A college graduate. To become a college graduate. This is why I am here.
Not to make more money as an adult, not to learn more about the world so I can better understand it. I am here to earn a title, something I can say to myself, "I did this. Where others have failed in this area, I have succeeded." I want the title.

Of course, in the beginning I didn't realize this was why I wanted to go to college. In fact, I never even thought about whether I would go or not. It was merely assumed. Isn't this what smart people do? It's not like I-Poly had career placement options. Had I not come here, or gone to some sort of instutition of higher learning, my life would likely have been devoted to food service.

So now I am here. I am having a good time in this environment, but I am tired of school. I don't want to write any more papers that everyone else is writing. I want a job where only I write the paper, because it's realized that only one person has to do it, because that one person will do it right. Here, the professor will have a handful (and I literally mean a hand full, not a 'mere handful') of perfect papers.

I suppose my main issue is with no longer standing out. I know my intellect does rival that of my classmates, and in class I do find myself thinking things that no one else says. But I don't say them. I stay quiet. I think about the discussion, and actively listen in class, but I don't contribute. It seems unnecessary.

So I go through my days sleeping late and spending time with the few people I have come to know these past few weeks. Homework is something I do when I have nothing else to do.

I am here to figure out what I want to do with my life. What I need to do, though, at the moment anyhow, is homework.

I had my first real pang of homesickness today. I was talking to a friend of mine on AIM, and he said he missed me, and he wanted to see me. Although I'm reasonably sure he wouldn't have felt that way had I been in town, I am still getting anxious to go home for winter break. Talking about Thanksgiving, he asked me, "you aren't coming home?". And that set something off in me. The way he said, "coming home" instead of going home. As though he were a part of home for me.

He is, though. The friends I have in California are my home. Most of them have known me since I was thirteen. I've become more "myself" in the last couple years than any other time period. They've seen me go through the changes that allowed me to develop the relationships I have with them. And I miss them.

School is picking up. I'm liking my classes more and more. I feel more connected to the material, although I still haven't spoken in class. I smile more. I've met more people outside of my group of three. I'm finding my place here.

There is still one person back home that I think about every day, though. Despite my not talking to him, he has a hold over me that I can't shake loose from. I don't call it love anymore...it's like a habit I've had so long that I don't know where to start to break the addiction. I can only tell myself "in time, in time." I hope that is true.

In time I will be over him. In time I will go home, and collect on the things people keep promising me when I get back. In time I will do the things I've wanted to do since I was ten years old. In time, in time....

I miss California.

Damn.

The last five days have kept me on my toes, to say the least. I've been thoroughly freaked out, and my feelings for one of my friends has done a complete 180 toward the negative. I've learned 4 weeks of Calculus in one night. I've found the perfect place to study. I've finally finished reading Stephen King's The Tommyknockers. I sought advice from two of my most estranged friends, and was not only helped by their input, but now I feel like the two friendships are both a little more alive.

Life could be worse. It could be better, true, but it could most certainly be worse. I am still content. I don't know yet (I haven't gotten any work back), but I don't believe I'm failing my classes. I'm settling into a routine of sleep, friend-time, laundry room reading periods, and dining hall meals. Perhaps a frat party would liven up my routine a bit. I shall consider that as a possible activity this weekend.

Or maybe I'll just catch up on some sleep I haven't been losing.