Ready, Set, Done? Already?

As I sit here preparing for finals, I can’t help but wonder – where did my first semester go? The concept of time in college is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Days seem to pass with the blink of an eye, and often when I go to bed at night I feel as if I just crawled out of it.

It honestly feels like a week ago that I arrived on campus with two cars that held my life and began to unpack. Somehow, three months have passed since my first day at Holy Cross and just two finals stand between me and winter break.

When I sit down and think about everything I’ve done since August 29th, I realize that in actuality, a lot has happened. First and foremost, I’ve learned more in one semester through four classes than I think I did during my entire senior year in high school, and while I was a senior I felt like I was learning a lot. My study habits have morphed (undoubtedly out of necessity) into ones that I’m proud of, and wave of high expectations at HC no longer overwhelms me. Don’t get me wrong, the work isn’t easy, but I’ve gained a better understanding of what’s expected of me and how I can meet these expectations.

Outside of the classroom has been just as busy. I’ve had numerous occasions to get my adrenaline pumping between intramural sports, pickup games, and lifting sessions at the gym. I had a glorious career as a floor hockey goalie that lasted all of one game, something that no one can ever take away from me.

I’ve had the opportunity to experience firsthand the unique talents and capabilities of my peers by attending live performances of music and the arts, and just by living with them every day. I must admit, I’ve never been around a group of more talented, well-rounded people.

In addition to classes, sports, and hobbies, there’s the day-to-day activity. These are the times when I really get to know my friends – lunch, study groups, video game competitions, and so on. It’s hard to say that any aspect of life on campus is better than any other. Every part is unique and valuable, but if one thing has really struck me thus far it’s the relationships I’ve been able to forge with the people on campus.

Of course, some memories stand out. Most recently was the night of night of Worcester’s first snowfall. It was a lazy Saturday and my group of friends and I had grown lethargic after a movie marathon that featured “The Santa Claus,” “The Santa Claus 2,” and yes, the unremarkable “Santa Claus 3”. (In my opinion, this movie series should have ended after the original, but no one asked me. Seriously though, the woman who plays Tim Allen’s ex-wife is different in every movie. What’s going on there?) I had been just about ready to call it a night when one of my friends asked if I wanted to throw a football around in the snow. I figured, why not?

We stepped outside into a winter wonderland and had an absolute blast until the ball rolled down a hill on the third throw and transformed into a slick, wet chunk of ice. So much for that. Undeterred, we focused our efforts on the construction of a snowman, but were interrupted by a gang of snowball-wielding hooligans approaching rapidly. What ensued was one of the biggest snowball fights I have ever witnessed. Our peaceful evening out in the fluffy whiteness was morphed into a war of attrition.

Before long, more and more gangs started to join the battle, and when I took a quick tally I realized that nearly 50 people were packing and chucking the frozen ammunition, and more were on the way. I noted that I had never met most of the kids who were out there, but once the first snowball flew it didn’t matter. A snowball fight is a snowball fight. And with every ‘thud’ of snow against jacket, with every whitewash, with every snowtackle and with every innocent passerby who turned into a savage snowbeast, came laughter. And with laughter came more laughter. And laughter makes memories.

I guess it turns out that my first semester of college was pretty busy after all. That’s probably why it went by so fast. Thus I find myself facing an unsolvable problem. The saying goes, “time flies when you’re having fun,” but the second half of that is the harsh reality that time that flies, flies. I know, you’re thinking, ‘what is this kid talking about?’ But what I’m really getting at is the fact that three months has felt like a week. It’s scary. I can’t control it. But I love it. So while I wish that life would slow down at times, I guess I can’t complain. If having fun means accelerating time, I’d better get used to it.

I don’t see any signs of the fun stopping.

This entry was posted on Friday, December 11th, 2009 at 8:51 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.

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