(no subject)
Aug. 24th, 2004 06:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
x_losSo I've arrived at University of Iowa. The people are sweet, talkative, and even when they have homework severely tempted by offers to watch LOTR with cast and crew commentaries. It shouldn't take me long to make some friends, though part of me wishes I could be home instead of isolated and confused by a barrage of fresh stimuli.
I <3 my Latin professor. He read us a bit of C.S. Lewis to get us started, recalling the hoary details of Latin Teaching in Times Past. when my calc professor speaks, I understand concepts in a way I never did before. Burns never really taught the material. This professor explains to concept of a function and suddenly I know EXACTLY what he's talking about on this whole new level and I am fine with, even somewhat interested in, knowing more. He speaks too quickly for me to take good notes, but I am sure I can learn to adjust myself to his speed. In Latin 1: 15 students. In Calc: roughly 500 in an auditorium, but a far smaller group to each TA.
I am still somewhat worried about Calc.
I tried to call Kel to tell her they offer a history course exclusively about Piracy here. I'm sure you'll all be amused. They include 'Sodomy and the Pirate Tradition' on the reading list. I may even take that.
The other girls in the Writer's Learning Community, though I have not interacted with them well and thoroughly yet, seem too Emo for me. I am like a weird little David Sedaris thrown amidst the budding Emily Dickinsons, or at best Sylvia Plaths. They will possibly eat me, or sigh on me. Several resemble Kayta Brady. In all probability, I am not thin or poetic enough for this bunch. This is hyperbole- it may be fine.
I spent another night feverishly tossing and turning, waking up every few hours. At three this morning I woke up feeling sicker than when I had gone to bed and miserably dragged myself up to take a shower. Anyone not sick cannot quite know the confusion, the anguish. Immediately after wellness is reestablished, they are, thankfully, forgotten. It was hard to dress myself, I kept getting dizzy and tired and having to lie down between articles of clothing. Suddenly I began to sweat, spoiling the results of the shower I worked so hard to take, then to feel better. My fever broke- It was a 24 hour flu, not, as it felt like, something much worse. I could have cried. I could think again.
I really wanted my family or friends to take care of me, or know how sick I was, but it was the dead of night, and everyone was hours away.
The worst thing that happens to me when I get sick are the delusions. Forget about the frustrating inability to think normally, that's nothing compared to how little grasp on reality I have when truly feverish. Who am I? I really couldn't tell you. The fact that I'm a person at all has, at times, slipped away. It doesn't last long, but it is a miserable experience.
I don't trust my recovery, it was too full and too sudden. Behind my eyes I can feel the pressure lurking.
Tell me how you're settling in to your colleges.
I <3 my Latin professor. He read us a bit of C.S. Lewis to get us started, recalling the hoary details of Latin Teaching in Times Past. when my calc professor speaks, I understand concepts in a way I never did before. Burns never really taught the material. This professor explains to concept of a function and suddenly I know EXACTLY what he's talking about on this whole new level and I am fine with, even somewhat interested in, knowing more. He speaks too quickly for me to take good notes, but I am sure I can learn to adjust myself to his speed. In Latin 1: 15 students. In Calc: roughly 500 in an auditorium, but a far smaller group to each TA.
I am still somewhat worried about Calc.
I tried to call Kel to tell her they offer a history course exclusively about Piracy here. I'm sure you'll all be amused. They include 'Sodomy and the Pirate Tradition' on the reading list. I may even take that.
The other girls in the Writer's Learning Community, though I have not interacted with them well and thoroughly yet, seem too Emo for me. I am like a weird little David Sedaris thrown amidst the budding Emily Dickinsons, or at best Sylvia Plaths. They will possibly eat me, or sigh on me. Several resemble Kayta Brady. In all probability, I am not thin or poetic enough for this bunch. This is hyperbole- it may be fine.
I spent another night feverishly tossing and turning, waking up every few hours. At three this morning I woke up feeling sicker than when I had gone to bed and miserably dragged myself up to take a shower. Anyone not sick cannot quite know the confusion, the anguish. Immediately after wellness is reestablished, they are, thankfully, forgotten. It was hard to dress myself, I kept getting dizzy and tired and having to lie down between articles of clothing. Suddenly I began to sweat, spoiling the results of the shower I worked so hard to take, then to feel better. My fever broke- It was a 24 hour flu, not, as it felt like, something much worse. I could have cried. I could think again.
I really wanted my family or friends to take care of me, or know how sick I was, but it was the dead of night, and everyone was hours away.
The worst thing that happens to me when I get sick are the delusions. Forget about the frustrating inability to think normally, that's nothing compared to how little grasp on reality I have when truly feverish. Who am I? I really couldn't tell you. The fact that I'm a person at all has, at times, slipped away. It doesn't last long, but it is a miserable experience.
I don't trust my recovery, it was too full and too sudden. Behind my eyes I can feel the pressure lurking.
Tell me how you're settling in to your colleges.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-08-25 01:36 am (UTC)"In all probability, I am not thin or poetic enough for this bunch."
Waif-like is the word you're looking for. Or perhaps anemic.
I move in Friday...ahhhh.
no subject
Date: 2004-08-27 06:06 am (UTC)Exactly. I want to be Miss Independent (oh Christina Aguilara, you dirty dirty bad lyrics writing little thing) until I'm ill, at which point I want to be a limpet.
They have no blooooood!
Tomorrow, eeeeee! good luck!