Archives for the month of: October, 2013

This past week, while I’ve been stressing out over the rapidly approaching early action and early decision college application deadlines, my mom’s been in France with her parents and her sisters (they’re traveling just like they used to decades ago!).  I think it’s the cutest thing ever, and it sure sounds like they’re having a lot of fun.

The thing is, with my mother not around to yell at me to do homework, I’ve been feeling the strong urge to slack off.  I’ve always recognized my tendency to procrastinate—”Hmm, I’ve done 5 minutes of homework; I think I deserve a snack”—but I know now that my mom’s not going to be around to crack the whip when I’m in college.  So for the past week, I’ve been working really hard to get my work done.  I even went so far as to organize my binder, just like my mom asked me to do.

So while I was organizing my binder and all of the loose-leaf notes I’d shoved into my backpack, I came across a bunch of old assignments, some from last year.  I remember writing most of them—specifically, I remember putting off writing them until the very last minute and then working furiously to turn them in by the due date.  I started working on at least one essay on the day it was due; obviously not a very good idea and not something I should continue to do.  It doesn’t help that I get decent grades on them, because then I feel even less motivated to start on them early.

My older readers know that I’m…not the most organized of students.  I get sidetracked so easily: the internet is a black hole of distractions, “hunger” is my most frequently used excuse to stop doing work, video games are addicting, and the constant craving to check my text messages keeps me from fully focusing on work.  There have even been days when I’ve neglected all of my homework assignments in favor of staring at the ceiling, which I apparently found much more interesting.

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Pretty much.

I don’t fail my classes because sure, I can get my act together when I really need to, but it’s not like I’m acing all of my classes, either.  It’s a struggle.

I’m sure other people experience this, too—I can’t be the only one, can I?

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First off, I’d like to thank everyone who followed my blog since the last time I posted!  Leaving Xanga was probably a good choice on my part; everyone here is so nice!

And now to the meat of the post: women’s colleges.

Ever since I was old enough to understand, my mom has repeatedly told me how much she wants me to go to Wellesley College, her alma mater—and even then, I didn’t fully understand what it meant to go to a women’s college.  I’d always listened to all the good things she had to say about the school and nodded absently, thinking that there was no way I’d ever be interested in going to an all girls’ school.  And a school my mother went to.  Gross.

But over the summer, I visited Wellesley and two other women’s colleges in Massachusetts: Smith and Mount Holyoke.  It turns out that I really like them all, in large part because there’s a certain sense of community that women’s colleges seem to share.  As something of a reticent student (but an outgoing girl outside the classroom), I have some difficulty expressing my thoughts in class.  In most of my classes, guys get the most attention because they put themselves out there and like to be competitive—I’d even argue that they get attention because they goof off and behave obnoxiously in class.  Meanwhile, self-conscious girls like myself tend to keep quiet until called upon, for fear of saying something wrong.  This is a problem for me, but it’s also something that I’ve been trying to overcome.  I’ve started to understand the appeal of being in an environment where girls can talk amongst girls and work together.  Studies show that boys and girls learn differently, after all: read about the differences here.

Of course, when I tell people I’m thinking about applying to a women’s college, some of them stare at me with an expression somewhere between horror and pity.  “But girls are so catty!” and “Watch out—you might turn into a lesbian,” and “That’s like living in a convent!” are some of the responses I get.  Obviously, women’s colleges aren’t for everyone.

In any case, I can talk all I want about Wellesley and women’s colleges in general, but I’ve yet to actually be accepted into any of them.  There’s also the issue of the weather.  Honestly, I think it’s “too cold” as soon as the temperature drops below 70 degrees.

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This might be a problem.