Hey kids. I don't have much time to write today because I am mOVING ACROSS THE OCEAN. My plane leaves this evening for England so I'm spending most of my day throwing things into a suitcase and wondering if it's acceptable to take a nap at 10AM. But I'm not neglecting you! I've crafted a lil' video of my summer with deep, insightful reflection and awkward narration. Check it out!
Do you get the reference? This is me appealing to the youths. But sometimes the creative writing scene at Kenyon does feel a bit like a reality TV show. If you throw a hundred good writers into a pit with three ruthless professors, only about ten or so will emerge, clutching a manuscript with ink on their faces. If you want to take a creative writing class at Kenyon, you’re going to have to face up to some inconvenient truths.
This summer has both flown and stalled. I have moments where the hours seem to just barely pass, like water dripping from a faucet, and then other times where I’m writing the date and can’t believe it’s already August. But why am I telling you this? If there’s anyone who is more uncomfortably aware of the passing of time, it’s someone about to leave for college. Some of you might be doing Pre-Orientation, while others are arriving on August 24th like I did. Either way, the time is coming up and you have to prepare. Here I present to you your first piece of homework. Below is a list of quintessential Kenyon (Hey! That’s the name of this blog!) terms, events, and jokes that are unique to this hilltop. Study time is now--the next four years is your test.
If you couldn’t tell already, moving into a dorm room is one of my favorite parts of college. Throughout high school, I was constantly rearranging my room, and going through giant purges of my things. It was cathartic, like getting your teeth cleaned or getting a new haircut--a reason to start over. Now, I get to do that every year, learning from mistakes and ultimately making each room better than the last. The only fly in the ointment takes its shape in the form of housing regulations. No candles, no nails, no space heaters--nothing that could ruin the paint or set something on fire. After two years, however, I’ve found ways to make up for the things I can’t do. To prove it, I made a video of me setting up a makeshift dorm room in my basement using most of the decorations I had in my room this past year. After setting it up, I take it down. There’s no marks, holes, or blemishes in the paint. It all disappears faster than you can say “$100 room repair charge.”
In my drowsy daydreams that float through my head before I fall asleep, my future looks something like Kathleen Kelly in You’ve Got Mail. I run a quaint little shop, write when I want, eat what I want, and live in a giant apartment filled with quilts and typewriters. That’s why a big school with huge, industrial classes and a promise to make sure I graduate as early as possible did not appeal to me. I wasn’t doing this so I could get a job. I wanted to wander through college, reading things and petting cats. So you can imagine my surprise at finding myself behind the desk of a corporate powerhouse for the summer.