I thought this quarter (and this semester, and this year–heck, all of my college life) would go by much more slowly.
As of 3:47 PM, when my Material Worlds: Trade and the Art of Asia class finally concluded our hour of enjoying chilled mung bean and jackfruit soup in the Johnson’s Morgan Japanese Garden, I am officially done with all of my sophomore classes. Forever.
It’s not like high school: the comforting thought of being able to enjoy all this sophomoronic bliss once more (with feeling) is now completely out of reach. Even if I choose to grad school (fingers crossed for those Creative Writing M.F.A. programs!), I’ll remain a “first-year” or some variation thereof for the rest of my academic career as a student.
Since I switched schools between my freshman and sophomore years of high school, I never got to really live through that lovely returning-student experience before: instead, I was essentially faced with another “freshman” year as I struggled to understand the new school and its social structures (hey, classes were a breeze compared with that).
Being a real sophomore at Cornell, then, was great for me. I’ve really focused on my interests both academically and extracurricularly, and my fields of study (Art History & English), which seemed so uncertain last year at this time, are now official. (I still don’t know which major I’m going to write my honors thesis in, but it’ll probably be Art History so that I can focus more on my writing than literary analysis. #stuffaboutkeelyslifeyoudontneedtoknow)
Speaking of creative writing, here’s a fun fact for any potential English majors (or, for that matter, any student): beware the inevitable dessert overload of the last week of classes. Like the Very Hungry Caterpillar, I’ve munched my way through a disturbingly large selection of “last-class-ever” treats. Trust me, the mung bean soup was just the beginning.
The last poetry class featured Wegmans shortbread, while peanut-butter-chocolate-chip cookies made a guest appearance yesterday during my Shadowplay seminar (we also watched a relevant part of the most recent Harry Potter flick, but that’s another story). To top it all off, this morning my beloved Narrative Writing professor (who’s retiring!) said she originally intended to bring us cookies, too, but then somehow Ithaca Bakery raspberry-filled cupcakes happened instead.
At 10:30 in the morning.
Fortunately, I have no finals for which to study (instead, I have “only” two 10+ page papers to write) and therefore had sufficient time today to attend not one but two sessions of zumba (that’s one hundred and twenty minutes-ish of crazy dancing, guys!) to burn off all my indulgences.
I’ll miss my sophomore semester a lot, I think–taking two creative writing classes and two art history classes was kind of a dream come true for me, and I’m not sure if it’ll ever happen again (mostly because it’d be awkward if I just kept taking the same 3000-level writing classes, and I can’t jump up to the next level until I’m a senior).
Now, most Cornellians will officially celebrate their freedom from classes tomorrow with wild antics and the disturbing sounds of Taio Cruz. Not me: I’m absolutely terrified of Slope Day. My celebration will probably involve hiding in my room and researching for one of my final papers (about the transmission of dragon iconography along the Silk Road and the Spice Routes, if you must know), eating chocolate (my dear friend surprised me with a massive bag of treats from Manndible Cafe last night when I was in need of it), and taking advantage of my newly fixed printer to make more Buffy-themed posters for my walls–I mean, uh, cleaning my room. Right.
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