It’s a new year, a new semester, but the same me. Your girl is back and better than ever.
I’ve never been a New Year’s resolutions kind of chick, probably because all my promises to eat healthier quickly expire as soon as I have a craving for a burger after the ball drops.
Some things never change, but since we last spoke some did.
I’m 22 now, have three tattoos and finally swiped my New Year’s Eve kiss card to name a few.
After celebrating the birth of baby Jesus, it was onto the annual Benihanas turn up three days later for my own birthday. My cake featured six mini liquor bottles, a naked barbie and the words “22 savage” so if you can guess where the night went… Well your guess is probably better than mine since I don’t quite remember all the details.
After recovering from what was surprisingly not as bad as a hangover as I expected, it was back to Los Angeles to get ready for classes to start — my last semester as USC.
It’s so surreal saying that (wipes tears). For any other last-semester seniors, I’m sure you can relate to what has been a whirlwind four years. Filled with first-time experiences, self discoveries and (I’m sure) still a lot of trying to get it together. From falling in love and heartbreaks, internships and searching for what will be your career to making new friends and checking off all your boxes on the quintessential college experience list — we can’t forget beer pong tournaments, Trojan football games and cramming for tests.
You’re probably reading this at the conclusion of what will be your last first week of school. I know reality set in pretty fast, when I checked my inbox at about over 100 blackboard notifications.
To those of you who braved the rain and actually made it to all your classes for syllabus week, 10 points to you. After searching for my science building for way too long in the rain and walking into class on Monday to math written all over the chalkboard — yes, a chalkboard, I won’t lie that I for a solid couple of minutes had an internal debate with myself about whether or not this was something I actually wanted to commit to. But, I ended up sticking it out and realized that the class was really just like an episode of House. The professor, whose credentials went on for days, described a patient and his or her symptoms, and then called on students to diagnose the problem. I was already feeling like a full fledged doctor. Where my stethoscope at?
Followed by a class about happiness and well-being and then another all about drugs, I was off to a pretty solid start. I told myself I would never take an 8 a.m. again after suffering through the wake-up call for my Spanish class two semesters in a row, but when I saw that the infamous “Drugs, Behavior, and Society” class was open I had to jump on it regardless of the time slot. I guess discussing marijuana at the crack of dawn is doable.
I ended my week in my yoga class, or more accurately put, my scheduled nap time for the week, Thursday afternoon. I fully expected to look like an embarrassing excuse for a pretzel during the class, but we ended up focusing on our breathing and laying down the whole time. Guys, I could get used to this meditation thing. I think my chakras are opening up already.
Onto the long week… Bish, don’t kill my vibe.
Samantha Johnson is a senior majoring in communication. Her column, Sips Tea, runs every other Friday.