College Life
Well it's college all right. Wal-Mart is probably the best store on earth. You can tell who has to buy their own stuff and who has mom and dad's credit card. And then there's me who just spends money on things she doesn't need. Haha, I'm not that bad though.
So here I am at Oral Roberts University in Ooooklahoma where the wind comes sweeping down the plain and something or another sure smells sweet and the hawks make lazy circles in the sky. Only problem with that song is I must not be where the plains and hawks are. It's more city and there are hills. But I'm not complaining. I like it. It's all good.
I'm now in my second semester as a freshman, good grades still. I made the honor roll! I always did in high school of course, but never thought about it for college. My major is Mass Media Communications, emphasis in PR/Advertising. I'm liking it so far. This semester I will be making an actual campaign for a Christian bookstore named Mardel's. If that doesn't work out so well I might want to rethink my major... It's supposed to be one of the best things I've ever done etc. I'm excited about it. :) I think my two favorite classes this semester are English and Audio Production. They're both a lot of fun for me. My least favorite is American Government. Kinda the same thing I've heard before The good part about tests here is that most of them are scored electronically so they are multiple choice. You don't have to really know the answer, just be able to make educated guesses. I've gotten mostly A's so far! hehe I am also learning how little sleep a person can function on and just how many things I am capable of doing at once. That's mostly my own fault though, because I am a world class procrastinator. I'm getting better, though. I miss my mom's cooking like I never thought possible. I would even eat the stuff I never liked before. Saga (our cafeteria) is very... well... they try. Haha I heard this story one time about it. ok here goes. One of the ladies that works in there was very upset one day, and someone asked her what was wrong. She said, "Maaan! The health inspector was here today and we were serving chicken tortilla soup. We are in soo much trouble." At my table we had just been talking about the wonders of mystery meat and leftovers when this story came up. I had always figured tortillas did not seem like something that belongs in soup, so I never tried it. I'm safe. :) What else, what else. I'm a member of PRSSA. That's Public Relations Student Society of America. You can check out my chapter's website at www.geocities.com/oru_prssa It's very spiffy.
Also, I joined Alpha Lambda Delta in April. It's a national honor society thinger for first year students
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my major...
People have been asking me what I want to do with my major and what I want to do after college and all sorts of things like that lately. It was kinda frustrating at first, because I was all pleased with myself for having picked a college and a major and all that, so I had an answer for all the questions I got senior year. Ack! and then it started all over again. And honestly, I really am not sure what I want to do. I'm just really excited about the classes I get to take and things that are offered here that I get to try out.
Recently in my marketing/advertising class, we had a guest speaker. She was an ORU graduate who now owns her own advertising agency. It's doing well, and she just graduated about 4 years ago I believe. I was really interested by what she had to say about what professionals are looking for "out in the real world."
One of the things I get most excited about, I guess, is the fact that by the time I leave college I will have a portfolio of my work. A real actual portfolio. Maybe I'm just strange but I've always wanted one of those. I'm not all that artistic, but in this major I still get to be creative and actually make things that other poeple can see and get something out of. I've always wanted to do that. AHH I'm so excited. Haha, and I discovered that I don't have to actually be able to draw my designs myself... that's the artists job. I can just tell them what I want and they actually draw it. Which is great, because that's my big frusration.. I can think of it and see it in my head, but to get it on paper is another story. Anyway, yay! excited! hope for the future! is the theme of the day. That's what I want you to carry away from this. hehe :)
Story Time!
Sarah's Freedom
By Heidi Bruening
(This was my final exam essay for English. We were allowed to write a short story about a theme we had discussed in class. At the beginning of the semester we talked about language and expression, and how people need to be able to express themselves and share with others. It's one of the things that makes us "human." Towards the end of the semester my class was talking about a lot about art, what is true art and that sort of thing. For various reasons, those two themes stood out to me this past semester, and I decided to try to write one in which art was the form of self expression and release. I don't think this is all that great... but I'll share anyway and put something of my own rather than spitting back someone else's ideas haha)
Sarah stepped back from the canvas and tilted her head. It was finished. Setting her brush down, she turned her back and walked away. Shutting the door behind her, she moved out into the bright sunshine. Tilting her head back, Sarah lifted her arms and drank it in, spinning there on the busy sidewalk. Finally she was free.
It had been one year earlier that a much younger Sarah rounded the corner on her way home from school to see the road in front of her house swarming with flashing lights and people in uniforms. It was an accident, they said. Sarah’s parents were dead.
The days after that were a blur of well meaning people pushing, talking, planning. She couldn’t think straight. She was 17 years old, a senior in high school. Her parents were not supposed to die before her. But it had happened and Sarah as going to the city to live with her father’s sister, whom she had never met. She didn’t want to leave the town she had grown up in, but she had no relatives there. Numbness had settled in and she simply moved through the day mostly unaware of what went on.
The city and her aunt resembled each other in that they were both big and loud. They meant well, but neither was home. It wasn’t that bad, and her aunt not unpleasantly reminded her of her father. Outwardly, Sarah adjusted well, but inside she ached from missing her parents and the guilt.
That last morning, she had gotten in a fight with her parents about going to a party that weekend. All the popular kids were going, and Sarah had been invited for the first time, but her parents wouldn’t let her go. The last time Sarah had spoken to her parents it had been at the top of her lungs as she slammed the door on her way out. She kept replaying that morning in her mind. She desperately wished she could go back and change it. If she had known it was the last time she would see her parents, she would have said “I love you” on her way off to school instead of the hurtful words she had spit out. Maybe it was somehow her fault that this had happened. But Sarah was unable to tell anyone. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, but she couldn’t. The words wouldn’t come, and she was uncertain even of what she wanted to say. So Sarah continued in her silent world, alone.
And then one day, she met him. Unassumingly, he came into her life and showed her how to feel again. He was Kenny, a boy at her new school. Not exactly popular, he talked about God and what would Jesus do? But he reached out to Sarah in a way no one else had since the day her parents had died. He had a peace about him that Sarah wanted in her life. She felt like she could talk to him about anything and everything and he would understand, and it was true.
Sarah went to church with Kenny and finally let go of the hurt she had been holding on to. She knew her parents had loved her despite everything that had happened that day. She no longer felt numb inside.
There was only one more thing for Sarah to do. She hadn’t painted since her parents’ death, and it was time to tell the story. Onto the canvas she poured all the pent up emotions, and the grief. She told of the numbness that had melted into hope and new life. This was her story and Sarah told it in the best way she knew how.
Weeks later, she stepped back from the canvas and tilted her head. It was finished. Setting her brush down, she turned her back and walked away. Shutting the door behind her, she moved out into the bright sunshine. Tilting her head back, Sarah lifted her arms and drank it in, spinning there on the busy sidewalk. Finally she was free.
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