Burnt Popcorn

smells really bad. My roommate burned a bag in our bathroom (where the microwave is...?) earlier and my dorm now smells like a gross mixture of burned paper and burned popcorn and flowery febreeze that isn't really doing it's job.

And all this burned popcorn got me thinking about ideas. Which is a weird thing to think about, because to me that sounds like I'm thinking about thinking which is confusing. But more specifically, the burned popcorn made me think of how this whole hall probably hates me. There's no way they can't smell it. I can practically feel it seeping into my hair and my skin and the carpeting and it's convinced me that I should get used to having this stench around because it's not going anywhere.

Which is why I thought of thinking. Because so often I'll get an idea in my head and once it plants itself, there's no going back. And I so over think everything that eventually I don't even remember what got me so worried. That doesn't make me stop worrying. In fact, it makes me worry just a little bit more.

Mostly I worry about the future. I'm majoring in Journalism, which I keep joking to people is like majoring in unemployment. I'm trying to make light of it, but really, I'm mostly serious. Which is sad, because it sucks that once I finally find something I want to do, something I'm more than just okay about, I can't get out of my head that I'm putting something in the future at risk, something so far into the future I don't even know what it is. And then I worry that I don't even want this. That I'm going to spend 4+ years getting a degree in something I might not even love.

I know I like reading. And I know I love writing. And editing. But it seems like part of growing up might be finding something substantial and coming to like it.

Is this the disillusioning part of growing up? Seems like it to me.

I need to escape this foul smelling room before I forget what actual oxygen smells like.

pieces
Kelly

School!

I'm sitting in my dorm room right now, ignoring my roommate's weird music and feeling like a college student, and I'm so surprised by how normal it is.

I think I imagined i'd be miserable here, and would cling to the "I wanted to go somewhere far away but pretended to be okay with UT" thing I do, but now that i'm living the Austin life and seeing all these cool things UT has to offer, I'm really glad to be here. 

Which is good, since being glad to be where you are is definitely a good thing.

So here's the breakdown of my classes, for anyone that is reading this/cares/doesn't care:

Biology, Ecology, and Evolution:kind of hard.

Sociology: pretty cool

Critical Issues in Journalism: I want to be friends with my professor because his sense of humor is super dry and makes me laugh too long when everyone else has moved on.

Rhetoric: English class, so good.

...and last but not really least, Modernity, Anxiety, and the Art of the Uncanny: really really freaky. But interesting. Mostly scary. We watch scary movies and read unsettling literature and think about what it is that actually scares us and why. Other than when we had to read Freud, which made me feel stupid, but I'm sure as soon as I stop being terrified I'll like it.

It's so weird being here and accepting the fact that I'm not a highschooler because this hasn't stopped feeling like a field trip yet. I think it's because there are West kids all over the place, so it's like any minute Homez will pop out and be like "alright back on the bus" and I'll have to stop hanging out on the drag and go back to Plano.

Which I kind of miss. I liked knowing who and where everyone was. I liked how it was quiet, usually. 

So there's a summary of my life, which I hate doing because I like when this blog goes months and months at a time with angsty post after post. Those are the best.

okay well when I think of something profound, or not, I'll write about it.

Hey Kevin.

Kelly