On the Freshman 15

It is not set that every freshman will gain 15 pounds in the first two semesters—some will gain more, some less, and even some (hope this will be you) will lose.

Here at UH, this campus is huge. As if we didn’t do enough walking, we have a wonderful recreational center that is soon going to be open 24 hours, and a small gym on the first floor of the newer dorms, Cougar Village. 

But I still gained weight.

We have wonderful, restaurant/buffet style, real food here on campus, and it is free with a meal plan. This makes it tempting to eat way too much, especially from the dessert area. 

So how do you keep it off?

Gaining the freshman 15 has a lot to do with how your body is; if you tend to gain weight quickly and find it impossible to lose it, if you have a high metabolism, etc. But the best thing to do for your body is find an excersize routine that works early in the semester and get into the habit. It might feel impossible sometimes, but it gets easier the longer it’s worked into your schedule. I missed one day of pilates early in the semester because I was sick, and I was done. I never went again.

There is another, possibly more important thing to do; stop gaining before it starts. With the UH buffet-style cafeterias, I was a big culprit for trying a little bit (or a lot) of everything because I hadn’t eaten before dinner. There are two things wrong with what I did: I skipped meals and I stuffed myself sometimes to the point that I thought food was disgusting. Skipping meals slows your metabolism and fools your body into thinking that you’re starving. Then, your body overcorrects and stores as many nutrients as it can in order to prevent you from dying. This results in gaining weight. The other problem, eating too much, is ovbious. Don’t feel like you have to finish everything on your plate. You don’t.

So, you’re good throughout the year. You excersize and eat regularly, and you eat the right amount of the right foods. You’re doing great; you haven’t gained. You’ve even lost. 

Pretty soon, though, finals week comes. “Study food”—what my roommate and I like to call the chips, dry cereals, cereal bars, candy, and others that dominate your life during long nights of studying—quickly become a staple in your diet. The best way to avoid study foods is to dring water or chew gum instead of eating. While this tactic isn’t as satisfying as study food, it is certainly healthier than chips.

Before I end, I would like to say that I am not a nutrition major or anything close. I do not have any experise on this subject. I only hoped to provide you with the basic knowledge—an advanced warning. Eat right, and get into an excersize routine.

Excellence

There is no such thing as perfection. I say this as a perfectionist.

Naturally, we all want to be perfect. I hold myself to a high standard, and anything less is degrading. But my standards are far from perfect—because perfection does not exist. However, I know that I want to be perfect because being so will make me successful. So much for being successful then, huh?

Wrong.

There is no absolute perfection, no holy grail of status, no easy button (Staples had better pay me for advertising). I’ve recently been plagued by a very strong personality feature of mine. If anything is not done to my standard by me or anyone else around me, I either get into a depressed “my will to change this is futile” mood or get into a rage and do it myself. This is frustrating, and it’s ruined my love life several times. I get depressed because I feel like I’m a freak; no one else feels the urge to always be better. They say “that’s good enough” or, when they’re trying to cheer me up when I don’t need it, “you’re smart enough”, “you’re really good at this”. But I’m not, and I never will be—because “smart enough” is perfect, and I’m not “really good” until I’m satisfied with the work I have done.

I have wanted to sing for a long time. I love singing. I’ve been told I’m good. But I haven’t broken out of my shell; I’m only a little afraid of what other people think of me, but the main reason for my silence is that I know that I will never be satisfied with some things I do, and therefore never be successful. The key with this is to keep practicing until I am satisfied, and the dissatisfaction serves as motivation for the next project. Yes, this might seem messed up to some people, but it’s me. And I couldn’t be anything less. If I were, I wouldn’t be me.

Last night, I was watching a show on Steve Jobs. I quickly realized that I was a lot like him in these ideas: simple is best, never settle, and laziness and mediocrity do not exist. Some people had even called him mean when he saw things weren’t done right, but if he saw that people were trying and giving their all, he would be incredibly patient. This describes me as well.

Not long after the show, I was asked to describe excellence. I said “not settling” and “doing things to where you’re happy with your work”. If that’s not excellence, what is? If that’s not a personal perfection—to do everything your best and not settle—what is? And, most of all, if this is not success…?

So for everyone out there like me, (those who sometimes feels lost and like there’s something wrong with them because they’re too hard on themselves and hate to hear it, those who know they can do better, those who always feel the need to better themselves and are frustrated by the world because they don’t): don’t ever settle, and don’t give up or lose your vision. If you do your best, you might become rich, famous, idolized, loved, and most of all happy. Why waste your life away?

“Stay hungry. Stay foolish.”—Steve Jobs

5 Things Your English Teacher In High School Messed Up On

From my other, late blog, College 1301.

#1: Not all essays are formulaic

Unlike many high school teachers who teach a formula (introduction, five body paragraphs, conclusion; etc.), college professors want you to move outside your comfort zone. Some of them, like my philosophy professor, will actually take points off if you follow the “basic formula”. In fact, you’ll find that you’re writing in the style the professor wants to see instead of your own. Even the rule of never using the word “I” in academic papers goes out the window; my philosophy professor requires it. As long as you’re aware that you need to write according to the professor’s prefences, you should be fine.

#2: “The more sources, the better” is not always true

Many college professors don’t like you using a lot of outside sources—so far, the most I’ve used is four, for a six-page essay. They prefer you to come up with your own ideas. But, remember, if you do use sources (which you should, just not a ton of them), REMEMBER TO CITE THEM CORRECTLY.  Fail to do this might get you kicked out of the college.

#3: Tutoring doesn’t always help

Sometimes, it’s better to listen to what the professor wants rather than a tutor. I had a tutor who told me to do something that made me have a lower grade than if I didn’t do it. I’m not saying that all tutors are bad, though; it’s beneficial to get an outside view on what the professor wants. However, that advice is better heard from someone who won’t make you change your work if you think it’s a bad idea.

#4: “Work smarter, not harder”

This saying, while sometimes effective, is commonly used by college students as an excuse to be lazy. While it is wise to find a learning style that works for you, do not change it because it will give you less work. Sometimes more work is a good thing, especially when adapting to a professor’s style; I wrote five practice philosophy essays in two weeks just to get the hang of what my prof. wanted—and this was what saved my grade.

#5: “If you have writer’s block, power through it”

This is not always a good idea; if you don’t feel it, don’t write it unless you’re desperate. If you have writer’s block for the first couple of days, don’t sweat it. Writing those important essays when you’re relaxed and in the mood to write will save you from writing a lot of trash.

21 Things Not to Forget When Packing for College

From my other, late blog: College 1301.

#1: A plunger

Like many things on this list, I learned to not forget them firsthand. This one is accompanied by a story: It was about halfway through my first semester, and I had just taken a shower. I went to flush the toilet, and—lo and behold—the thing was clogged. Panicking, I told my roommates that the toilet was out of commission for a few hours; none of us had thought to bring a plunger. When me and my roommate were shopping, I thought to buy one, but we were on such a limited budget that we skipped over it, thinking we didn’t need one. They never needed one last year.

So, needless to say, my roommate went on a scavenger hunt and found—to our amazement—that no one on the entire hall had a plunger, apart from the guy who earned the esteemed Golden Plunger from the scholarship games the week before…and we weren’t about to use that. After a few hours of searching, my roommate brought a coat hanger in the room and began to bend it out of shape. Yeah. That didn’t work so well.

Then, she told me that they usually kept a community plunger at the front desk, and sent me after it. After a while, I brought it back to the room and—success! 

Do yourself a favor and don’t let this be you. Bring your plunger.

#2: A toilet scrubber

Yes. I’m ashamed to say that we passed this essential item up in the grocery store as well. My roommate eventually picked one up for a dollar somewhere.

#3: Toilet paper

Many colleges don’t provide toilet paper—at least mine doesn’t. Instead, they give you four rolls to last you until one of you can buy some from the local on-campus convenience store (which is hilariously overpriced). Believe me, you’re better off bringing a good supply of your own and buying it throughout the semester elsewhere.

#4: Laundry detergent

Now, since we’re away from the “toilet team”, we need to focus on something else that’s more…inspiring: your clothes. Chances are, you won’t be going home every weekend to wash your clothes like I do—so bring a jug of laundry detergent that you like. It doesn’t have to be expensive, just make sure that you like the effect it has on your clothes. Living with accidentally-bleached clothes on campus is a nightmare.

#5: Notebooks

You need them to take notes, if you hadn’t guessed. Even if you bring your laptop or netbook, it is still wise to have one of these things on call if you need it.

#6: Snack and/or lunch foods

The odds are against you that you will wake up in time for those dreaded early morning classes every day of the week, so make sure that you can grab something quickly before you run off to class when you’re late. You also might want to keep this supply steady—but don’t buy too much!

#7: A graphing calculator

That’s right—don’t groan—you’re going to need to take at least one math class. Might as well be prepared for it.

#8: Two or more sheet sets

I did not do this, but I wish I had. You should try to buy at least two sets of sheets for your bed, so one can be in the dirty clothes hamper while you use the other one. This eliminates the stress of “I have to do my laundry….today!”. You’ll be grateful later. 

#9: Earplugs and eye covers

If you have a roommate, you will definitely find yourself in the situation that you dread: you want to sleep, but your roommate is hard at work at his or her desk. You don’t want to ask them to leave, but your eyes are drooping and stinging; you’ve been up 24 hours already. Having earplugs and and eye cover will solve this problem (though personally I can’t sleep with either).

#10: Toothbrush and toothpaste, bath soap, razors

Yeesh. Enough said.

#11: Your clothes

This might be glaringly obvious, but it would be dreadfully embarrassing.

Read More

Self-analysis. Part 2

I apologize for the length of part 1. Even having to split this post into to parts is rather ridiculous in itself, so I’ll try to keep this part short. To summarize:

• I need quiet to study
• Don’t tell me that I need to relax and that I will make an A without trying because I’m “smart enough”. (How do you think I got here?)

On the last point, we all got this scholarship for a reason: we work hard. Yes, we’re all naturally talented in what we do, but just because we were awarded the scholarship doesn’t mean that we have permission to slack off for the rest of our lives. In fact, the founder advocated the opposite. He was humble and hard-working during his 95-year lifetime and, though he died recently, the scholarship will continue to choose people who work hard for the foundation. I refuse to dishonor him by using his money for that nonsense.

Many people accuse me of being too much of a work-a-holic, and I agree I am, but I think it’s the appropriate amount. I also get the urge to stop working or just take a break, and I also get cranky when I don’t get one. I just know how to prevent myself from mixing work and relaxation—because, at school lat least—nothing gets done that way. I’m not saying that they’re wrong. I’m asking them to respect my ways and get off my case. 

In all, I think the only person who understands me in this way is my roommate, I hate to say it, but not even my boyfriend understands me on this point. I need to be able to work, and somehow being told to relax about it and that I will be fine makes me think I’m being talked down to—because then it’s like they would be saying that they wouldn’t even bother to study at all because it’s not a big deal to them. Because they’re smarter than me? I don’t understand their thinking. I don’t even understand mine. I just know this gets under my skin.

My biggest problem on this topic is that I can’t bring myself to tell people how I feel about it, and when I do, I can’t communicate it because my words fail me. I always sound whiny, self-damaging, depressed, etc. whenever I tell people that I need to freak out. When I do, I’m told to not to be so hard on myself, and that I need to relax. This makes it worse. Are they not listening, or am I not communicating my thoughts correctly?

An aside: I have a driving urge to be listened to. When I speak in front of a classroom, I physically cannot talk until every single person is looking at me and quiet. I can’t even talk to my boyfriend when he’s not looking at me. It distracts me. For this reason and others, I will never be a teacher. I need to communicate, and I need to be listened to, not just heard. But this one time, while trying to explain point two, words fail me. So—

• I need to communicate, not just talk

At any rate, all this musing has brought me to this conclusion, and I’m thinking that I might make typography of this and enter it into deviantART’s quote contest:

Communication is the only thing that can make someone truely understand you.

Alright, I admit, it sounded better in my head when I was in the shower. What is meant by it is this: no one can truly understand anyone because each person has different experiences that shape their beliefs. Just like Professor Estess said in his Human Sit lecture on Brian Friel’sTranslations, there’s a buffer zone between people that prevents them from understanding one another; one person says something that he perceives will communicate his thoughts efficiently but, because of the hearer’s experiences and beliefs, the hearer interprets the words differently—and of course, both the talker and the listener believe they’re correct. This logic basically proves communication by any means to be worthless. So yes, you are alone, unless you have someone with the exact same experiences, thoughts, and beliefs as you. You are not, and will never be, understood by anyone but yourself—not even by your significant other. 

It’s quite a lonely world out there, isn’t it?

Self-analysis. Part 1

I had said that I couldn’t post because I had no inspiration. However, thanks to the people I live with, I finally grasped some as my anger fizzled. 

To begin my story, it’s finals week at the University of Houston, and everything’s in chaos. Everyone in the dorms are buzzing around, taking up lounges, and burying their heads in books. Luckily for me, I only have one final this week: Human Sit Oral. During this final, the student goes into the office of a computer-assigned professor (not your discussion leader) and is examined by him or her for 30 minutes on the seven to eight books that the class has read that semester. This task is daunting enough for the student who has any professor—but the consensus is that Doctor Morrisson is the harshest.

Guess who I have.

I’ve never been one to let myself go. I’ve always made myself over-prepare for these things, expecting the worst, and then heave a huge sigh of relief after I walk out of the office with the knowledge that I’ve made at least a solid A-. Now that I have Morrisson for this final, though, my brain has somehow decided to run away and choose to ignore the fact that I will come out of that final crying, no matter how much I prepare. I stay up late, waste my time on various websites, and surf Ebay with the knowledge that David Hume is staring me in the face, telling me, taunting me: He’s going to bring me up, you know. And yes, I do know. But my brain refuses to admit it. This is a problem.

I had Morrisson last semester for discussion. Let me describe him. He’s an Irishman; his accent is thick, he cusses constantly (“He’s focking hilarious!”), and he sports a thin beards and reddish-brown hair, which, in my mind only, is auburn and gelled to small horns on the top of his head (really, I’m not joking). He’s most often seen wearing dark, almost black jeans and a light blue polo, although he also wears button downs and slacks. He’s skinny, muscular, attractive, young. Hilarious. Sarcastic.

All of this seems rather well at first glance, but there’s something about him that makes you stiffen when he looks at you. His eyes—I’m not sure what color, either a honey or a dark brown—are always searching, judging, measuring. He’s cocky, and he knows it. So does everyone else. He’s highly intelligent, and you get the feeling that he wears his cockiness as a facade, but you’re not quite sure. He seems about 6 feet tall in my memory, although I’m not sure if that is because he’s so intimidating. Additionally, he has a horrible temper that can be set off with one blink, and he doesn’t wear his wedding ring on his bad days—yet he adores his wife unconditionally. From personal stories, we know he moved recently, has a very protective dog, and grew up around Ireland v. England violence. Because of the latter, he is adamant that you differentiate between the UK and Ireland. He is a philosopher, trained to kill, and holds a doctorate in the same subject. 

In discussion class, he’s a harsh grader, but luckily your final grade depends on your improvement in his class. My grades were going backwards, so I went to see him about a grade on a paper. Once I got into his office, I sat down and, after a little prompting to pull out the paper I came to him about, I muttered that I didn’t have it, but that I had one of my five practice essays I had written that week to try to understand how he wanted his papers. At this point, I wasn’t making eye contact, but then I never really have. I knew he hated people coming unprepared. I did too.

Five minutes later, I was bawling in front of him. I had watched as he tore apart the introduction of my paper, but that was not why I cried; I cry when I am intimidated. At this point, he stopped and—I’ll give him credit for this—softened his tone a little. He asked if I was ok and, not being able to speak, I nodded. He continued. Needless to say, my tears got stronger the longer he went on, and all I could think about was that he had noticed my emotion, a weakness in this situation. He stopped again as I began sniffling.

Read More

I’m sorry for being so inactive. It’s finals week, and I seem to have lost all inspiration. Will post again soonish.

My photography blog is up!

http://lightningsavagephotography.tumblr.com/