collegiate

The college meeting tonight was fun - getting to see friends whom I hadn't seen since June (yay!!). But it has made me start to worry about college!!! My list keeps changing. It's like it is stubbornly refusing to stay the same. I research new colleges and discover programs at places that I didn't knew existed before. I examine my ambitions and second-guess myself because I am always changing about how I want to get where I want to be.

I want to be a writer eventually - write books. I've always wanted that; it's been a constant for so, so long. Everything else is a backup career! An imperitive backup career. I think it would be hard to just start having books published right out of college and well, one needs money (brilliant deduction, Oliver). I could be a journalist in the meanwhile! (Major: journalism/communications.) I could work... in a museum! I like museums. (Major: history with a concentration in a specific period, most likely 1800s.) I feel like I may have to triple or quadruple (is that even possible?) major just to, um, "cover all the bases". Just to make sure.

I loved Bennington a few weeks ago, but then I learned more about it, and realized it is extremelyextremely liberal, which I am not. I don't know what I am, well, I don't like politics! And it seemed quite political, and activist, and such, and well, I'm a prude, and I guess I'd be "moderate" if you must talk politics. So here is a list that is Subject to Change:

Amherst
Wheaton (MA)
Quinnipiac
UMass-Amherst
UConn
Endicott
URI / RIC
Wesleyan??? I forgot to put that on the list I turned in tonight!
Connecticut College? Forgot that one too!

I am Confused. I KEEP CHANGING MY MIND. And all of the schools except the state ones in there depend on my getting financial aid and a lot of it. Good Goodness. Y'know, money. Really. I think that in the Garden of Eden, the green thing was not REALLY an apple; it was money. Money is so pretty and lovely because of all the amazing things one can buy with it, but it is so annoying because it controls so much! I think the metaphor fell apart before I even wrote it but oh well.

I am too indecisive!!! But one can't just JUMP into something. It's my FUTURE we're talking about! AKA, a big thing.

Holy holy potato.

self-righteousness

Last week I was eaten by incessant worries. Because I was worrying so much about college in thoughts like these: that I'd not get recognition if I didn't go to a very fancy school - I'm afraid of not being recognized, of being overlooked - that I'd be stuck in mediocrity. I thought of this list that they posted up at the end of last term at my school: it said where all the graduated seniors went to college. When I saw a fancy name - Emerson! Johns Hopkins! Wagner! Johnson and Wales! and so on - I admired the student under whose name such titles were printed and thought of how he or she must have been so talented to go to such a place. I admit that I can be quite a jealous girl and rather a spotlight-hog. I was thinking in secret: if I didn't have a fancy school under my name, no one would look at it and admire me. Then I'd be jumping up and down vying for recognition: "Waitwait! But I got straight A's too!" and such. Then I realized, I'm a brat, aren't I?

At least I can be. Goodness, I'm annoying. I'm not really modest. I want things. I can't stand others being recognized and myself being overlooked. What a conceited snob.

But I still want it. For someone to look at the respected name listed under mine and think that I achieved something. I try too, too hard to impress other people. I feel like I have to prove myself. Having been "the quiet one", "the shy one" all my life and hating that image with such a passion, I want someone - a stranger - a fellow student whom I've never talked to - to think, there's more to her than I thought; she's not that little meek mouse after all. That's what it comes down to. I fear going to a not so fancy school would make people think that I did so because it was safe and that's what mousy shy girls do: never step off of the safe path. Really in secret I long to be thought of as daring and dynamic...

bennington visit

Today I visited Bennington College. It's my first college visit because even though I'm supposed to be visiting them all summer, the vacation spree sort of prevented that. Anyway. I really really like it. It's a small private college in Vermont. What I love about it is that it has no core curriculum and one is not confined to a single area of study by declaring a major. Instead the students concentrate in their area of interest but also take classes in other areas of their choice so they can study anything they want and always have room to change their minds and try new things. The other thing I love is the field work term which is when, each winter term each year of college, students are required to complete an internship that an office of the college helps them find anywhere in the country or even overseas. Allowing students to try out different jobs and have a resume already when they graduate college, making it easier to get the career they want after graduating.

The only problem is, yes you guessed it, money. It's very expensive at $30,000 a year for tuition not even including room and board. On the way home I remarked to my mom that it would be so much easier if we were rich. Then she said something interesting; if I were rich, would I want it as much, would I appreciate it as much, or would I just be spoiled and not appreciate anything? She's right, but still, it is so annoying finding a college that I would love to go to but not knowing if I can or not because it costs so much. If I get scholarships it would be amazing. Also I don't know if I'd want to take out loans and be in debt for years.

more than dreams

I've found that the best way to get over fear is to do things in spite of being afraid. I've tried to sit myself down and talk and reason myself out of fear and tried to relax and reign in my thoughts but none of it worked for a very long time. What has worked, though, is being shaking and sick with fear, all jumpy inside and rattling, and trapping myself into doing just the thing that I am afraid of. Afterwards I always get this feeling of freedom and like I could do anything.

Recently I have a lot of ambition. I feel like I know what I want. When some people find out my ambitions, they are doubtful and I understand why. Because I'm scared and timid sometimes and also because sometimes I'm shamefully irresponsible. But my ambitions do not seem to clash with my character to me - because who I am and who I want to be are rather different. I want to be courageous and exuberant and daring and all living-out-loud. I would hate to stay afraid and timid and so, I won't. I have always thought someday I'll change. Maybe magically when I turned twenty I would be daring. But I realize that I have to bring about the change and take chances and be courageous myself or else my life would be incredibly dull. Which is a great fear. How fear teaches to be unafraid. I don't want to live an ordinary life. I want it to be full of color and excitement and new things every day. I want no day to be like the one before it. So I have to make that happen. And you know what? I believe I can. I think believing gives a huge step-up into ambition: believing you can do it can make you able to do it.

ville de Québec

On Monday, August 1, we (me, my parents, and one of my best friends Nikki whom we had "abducted") drove to Quebec City, Canada. The ride was long. I think about ten hours. But we finally got there and it is so, soso amazing. I loooove it. :D Last time I went five years ago we stayed in the new part of the city in a modern hotel, but this time, we stayed in the old part where there are narrow cobblestone streets, horsedrawn carriages, so many outdoor cafés, and all the buildings are old and made of stone with flowerboxes in the windows. And instead of staying in a hotel, we rented an apartment for five days.


The part of the fort that separates the old city from the new city


The street we stayed on


The main street that our street came off of


The apartments (my parents had one and n & I had another) were in a building that's over 200 years old. Some of the walls were stone. The apartments had large living rooms but tiny kitchens. Nikki and my bathroom was down the hall so most of the time we used my parents' bathroom. Our shower was in a cabinet. But we could always hear the horsedrawn carriages going by and people speaking French on the road right there with the windows pulled open and curtains fluttery and lighted.

The apartments were only a few houses down from the Château Frontenac, which is an enormous, grand, and breathtaking mansion that is always towering up and being exquisite. It's so big and amazing-looking, like a castle, that sometimes it doesn't even seem real.



The Château is the red green-roofed building in the background




This is a poor splice of three images meant to show how big the Château is. But this is still only one part of it.


We spent our days going about and shopping, eating at French cafés, many of which are in summer outdoors with live music from guitarists, singers, accordion players, and other musicians. The food is completely delicious, especially, of course, the dessert. Once we had dessert at night (because the cafés are open past midnight most of the time) at a place called Le Petit Château Créperie, where I had a crepe with strawberry and cream filling and hot chocolate. The hot chocolate was always so good, and I had a lot of it since I don't really like plain coffee that much. Besides, I definitely agree with Cassandra Mortmain that cocoa is a heavenly drink.







During the day and sometimes at night there were street performers everywhere. Walking down the winding & hilly streets we would often hear joyful music coming from nearby and come across mimes, clowns, and other performers whom I loved.



A mime


A puppet playing piano and his puppetier


The city is like a magical place waiting to be discovered. The streets are old and full of history and stories, along with bright colors and snaps of French conversation that I could not understand in only passing. Every day was exciting because there were so many fascinating things to see and experience.











The language was thrilling. I can read and write French passably, but can only understand spoken French if it is spoken v e --- rrrrrr y yyyyy ......... s sllll ooooo www llll yyyyy. Very slowly. So I could understand a lot of something like a magic show because the magician was speaking not so fast and e-nun-ci-a-ting so everyone in the crowd could understand him. But a shopkeeper or a resident was harder to understand because they were speaking so fast so most of the time I had to speak English. My spoken French is sometimes so bad that I was ashamed to speak it.

But even if I couldn't understand a lot of things, it was intoxicating to be in a place where mostly everyone was speaking a foreign language. Like stepping into another world, and I am devoted to the search for & discovery of other worlds. It seems like if someone speaks two languages, he belongs to two worlds. The more languages he speaks, the more worlds he belongs to. So when someone speaks two languages, it seems to me like he can be two people. I want to learn a lot of languages. I think I will master French first.







A café called The Little Crazy Pig, Le Petit Cochon Dingue


While we were there, the Fêtes de la Nouvelle France (Festival of New France) was going on. It is something like a Renaissance faire. Except it takes place over the whole city. We would always see people dressed in 1700s costume walking down the streets which was very, very happy. Once we saw a man and a woman both in very elaborate and beautiful costumes, driving down the street in a bright Volkswagen bug. The festival itself has areas set up in places all over the whole city, where there are performers, food, booths with crafts for sale, and everything. We saw a lot of that and I reveled in it. The only thing lacking was a costume, because I adore costumes but they were so expensive I couldn't buy one. (And my Renaissance faire gown wasn't period-appropriate, so I didn't bring it.)





We also went to an international Fireworks Competition and the night we saw was Sweden. It was exquisite. Over the Montmorency Falls, a stunning waterfall. I had another hot chocolate and put on an oversized and so comfortable sweater that said Québec on it. It was cold at night.

Other things we did: took a ferry to Levis, which is right across the St. Laurence River from Québec City, and which is where my ancestors come from. Walked about a lot and shopped a lot. Had lot of Trademark Laura and Nikki crazy times of hilarity and laughing. Annoyed people with incessant picture taking. Ice cream on the boardwalk. Was utterly excited to be there.









A square with a church




I did not want to come back at all. I was entirely wrapped up in the place and thought it was awful to leave so soon. But once again I'm verified in my dream to travel the world. I know I'll do it because the more I see, the less I want to stay in the same place and the more I want to wander and experience everything. I have a passion for experience.

Now that I am back, it seems wrong that no one is speaking French, all the signs are in English, and the streets are too wide. I so miss the way of life there. Going to the patisserie for pastries and a baguette. Having dessert at outdoor cafés watching the interesting and lively people go by. Exploring. It seems too easy being able to communicate properly. Right now America seems weirdly like a foreign country actually.

I loved the city incredibly.