Of Ice Breakers and Old Faces

Update: I’m back from England. Out from the cold and into the heat.

Speaking of which, the heat is CRAZY. 34 degree Celsius at night. That’s what my phone tells me at least. Imagine what it’s like during the day.

So, my first week back to college was alright.

As usual, the first day of classes always makes me super anxious. I spend the night before picking out what to wear – something decent but nothing that stands out too much because the last thing you want is for the lecturer to notice you, in the event they have a random Q&A in class. But you don’t want them to think you’re a hippie either.

“Give me examples of different cultures…. Kelly?”

Damn it.

And then I move on to packing my three pens into an oversized pencil case and I check to see if my wallet has my ID and money, like I did three minutes ago for the fourth time. I make sure my phone is fully charged, or just enough so I get to keep it close to my ear at night to increase the chances of me waking up in the morning. I set my alarms, the back up alarms and the back up for the back up, just in case. And then I try to sleep and fail miserably, like I do in preparing for any form of social activity with the outside world.

I honestly despise the first days of anything. I feel pressured into smiling at strangers I never met because my resting face is well, bitchy. Or so I’m told.

I try and smile at lecturers and be myself, but not too friendly just yet, because the last thing you want is for anyone to think you’re sucking up for good grades, even when you genuinely want to smile.

It takes so much of planning to look normal, it’s exhausting. I don’t know why I bother trying sometimes.

My aunty once asked me how do I even get on in college.

So my college ritual usually involves me sitting at the front of class, which by the way, take a lot of balls considering the person I am. Especially on the first day, cause I know there’ll be ice breakers.

Do not get me started on ice breakers. I always give the dumbest answers to the questions I’m asked and spend the next semester or life, as long as I know my lecturer, regretting it. They must think I’m stupid. Once I was asked what my favorite movie was in scriptwriting class and I said “The Dictator.”

I thought I was being funny.

This time around, we were asked why we chose to take this class and where do we see ourselves in five years.

I look around me and realize I have about half hour to come up with a decent answer and not royally screw up my first impression like I did in my diploma. One problem though, I don’t know where I want to be in five years yet. As I’ve mentioned before, I’m a little confused right now. I’m not as certain as I used to be. But, there’s 24 minutes left to come up with something.

I know I enjoy writing but, writing what? Don’t know that anymore.

News? Maybe. That and war journalism was always my first choice. But there’s a chance she might ask me about a current issue and then I’d have to keep standing up and speak longer when all I want to do is sit back down and observe everyone else.

So, bad idea. Next.

I have 15 minutes left now. Apparently half the class wants to do broadcasting.

There’s one guy who decided to give his life story and an introduction to Asian family feud. But heck, I’m next.

My turn comes and I can’t decide if I should face the class or the lecturer in front of me. So I just face somewhere in between, which is basically a wall while I stuggle with eye contact. Who am I introducing my self to, really? Haha, I almost fell too. I can’t even remember how. I hear J-Han say from behind me, “Calm down, Kelly.”

Apparently I wasted my time brainstorming cause class was almost over and the lecturer wanted to make sure everyone had a chance to speak, so giving a vague answer worked in my favor.

“I like creative writing. ”

She asked me if I liked to daydream.

“Yes!”

Oh well. So that’s my first week for you. I was made the class rep for Animation class. Ironic because I am the absolute WORST at computers and drawing – both skills you need to ace the subject. But, I’m not complaining. My lecturer seems fun. All of them are friendly and approachable, which is the most important thing to me.

Therefore, first impressions aside, everything else was good. Which is more than I could ask for. And I know at least five old faces from diploma, which is great.

Now excuse me, I have notes to look at and drawing skills to brush up on.

 

Kelly

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