One of my closest, dearest friends became an uncle for the first time tonight when his sister gave birth to twin boys (Congrats to Jill and Matt, by the way -- and good luck with THAT whole adventure). Anyway, since I'm kind of an expert on Uncleing after my eighteen-point-five years on the job, I thought I should probably share some of my wisdom tonight, to prevent him from making some of the more typical "newbie" mistakes. I know some of these things won't apply right away and maybe not at the same level if you'll have a state or two between you and the fellas, but you never know what the future holds and I feel responsible for preparing you for any possible situation.
(1) Your life is about to have a lot more chicken nuggets in it than it did before.
(2) Christmas? Birthdays? Legos. But maybe hold off until age four, though. And whatever set you get them, make sure it has a few Lego guys in it that aren't already in their collection.
(3) Even if you know you're buying Legos, it's always a great joke to threaten that you're going to get them a Barbie for their gift. At least it's funny until the little turds team up and beat you to the punch.
(4) Just saying the word "poop" is a guaranteed laugh. And get an app for your iPad that makes fart noises. It will be years until they get tired of it.
(5) Stock up on sunblock, just in case you find yourself attending a lot of soccer/football/baseball/whatever games.
(6) Have a pocketful of change at the ready in case you're with them and you find yourself within seventy yards of a vending machine. They know where all of them are instinctively.
(7) When they're in the 2-4 age range and they find something to do they really like doing, like rolling one pool ball back and forth across the table and laughing hysterically? Just go with it.
(8) Don't be surprised by things like when they run around the house wearing cowboy boots, tightie-whities and Krispy Kreme paper hats.
(9) When your sister asks you to feed them, remember she secretly only wants them full. You have all necessary veto power on vegetables.
(10) Watch the little buggers like Secret Service if they are ever near fire or water.
(11) Pay close attention to when they start showing an interest in music (I'm sure you'll notice) so you can swoop in, buy them their first formative CD (or whatever they have in another ten or so years) and take credit for inspiring the musical direction of their life.
(12) Bribes really do work.
(13) At some point one of them will think a plastic bag could make a really good hat or helmet. Be ready for this. And if they burst into tears because they're startled by how quickly you pull it off their head? That only means you've done your job.
(14) Nicknames are a requirement at some point. But you already know this.
(15) Start practicing how to insert plastic straws into juice pouches. NOW.
(16) When they are little guys, you can tuck their arms into their sweatpants and then pull the waistband up to their armpits. This will keep them entertained for at least half an hour while they walk around the house trying to get people to laugh at them.
(17) Two words: Action figures.
(18) You will watch their favorite movies and read their favorite books with them so many times you will dream about them. There's no way around this.
(19) If you ever take them to see a movie in a theater, make sure they go to the bathroom before you leave the house and buy them a huge thing of candy from the concession stand to distract them from noticing they aren't getting the soda they asked for. Unless you want to miss ten minutes in the middle of the movie.
(20) Malls? Parks? Anywhere in public? ALWAYS WALK BEHIND THEM SO YOU KNOW WHERE THEY ARE.
(21) If they show you a YouTube video of their friends careening downhill in stolen shopping carts, try not to act impressed. If anything, discourage such behavior.
(22) They really need a dog at some point. If their parents are resistant about getting one, you should feel free to do the surprise gift thing.
(23) If they cut loose with a massive burp, don't demand an "Excuse me." Instead just say, "So do you feel better now?"
(24) I really wasn't exaggerating about the Legos.
(25) Remember you are NOT an aunt. Revel in the lowered expectations.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Echoes from the Past
This isn't a lighthearted post, so don't say you weren't warned....
I had a moment today that brought the following story into my active memory, and for whatever reason I know the only way I’m going to be able to purge it is to put it up here. Back when my sister was sick, the job of keeping the long list of concerned family and friends in the loop about her progress fell to me, being Writer Boy and all. So here are some excepts from the hundred-plus pages of text I mass-mailed out over a period of eight months.
*****
Update - July 19
Erin called me this evening with some news she wanted to pass along. Her hospice nurse was out to see her and scheduled a hospital visit for her to have a PICC line implanted in her arm. She was bothered about this as she is whenever something new happens, but Jenny told her having a PICC line implanted was a pretty routine thing.
Mom says Erin will definitely spend at least one night in the hospital, but beyond that we don't know. It might only be one night, it might be two -- I guess we wait and see. She is tired of trying to cough so much and hopefully having this will minimize the pain she feels. After talking with her nurse, she had to admit things are progressing. She feels like she has a pretty good timeline in her head now and is trying to accept it.
Update - July 25
Erin didn't get as much sleep as she normally does and was a bit stressed about being away from her home, where she feels safe. Mom stayed with her in the room, sleeping in a chair. Jenny and I went to visit the first night for an hour or two. Mom was pretty wound up about being in the hospital again. She'd been in the room for more than a few hours when we got there, so I said I was hungry and wanted to go down to the cafeteria, which was only partially true. Mom said she had a sandwich in her bag that I could have and Jenny made a joke about Ron Weasley, a reference some people will get and some won’t. We were both thinking -- independently as it turns out -- that we wanted to get Mom out of the room for a much needed change in her surroundings. We eventually did.
Erin's mood bounced in several directions during her stay, but she was always welcoming and personable when one of the nurses stopped in. Those of you who know her well won't be surprised to hear she made fast friends with the nurses, and many of them stopped in just to chat during her visit. She had several other visitors as well; it was a lucky bit of chance her doctor was on duty during her stay so he was in to check up on her a few times. Every person that Erin knows through both hospice and the cancer center came up to see her when they heard she was checked in. Many came in on a professional basis, but several also came to visit during their time off. Erin’s hospice nurse even brought her one of the Monte Cristo sandwiches she treasures so much, a step up from hospital food.
The PICC line went in on Wednesday morning. The procedure was fairly simple, though she felt a little stiffness in her arm afterward. Jenny and I were there most of the day Wednesday. There was a lot of TV, reading, walks down the hall, snacks, naps, talks, breaks for meals, and visits from the hospital staff. One of Erin’s friends had sent me pictures of her new baby girl, which I printed and brought to show her.
Erin decided she wanted to continue her treatment relying only on the new pump for her morphine, which means she can finally stop using the patches. However, giving up the patches would mean staying in the hospital another day so the medicine from her current patch would have time to wear off before the pump can be calibrated. She is now done with the morphine patches, as well as the liquid morphine and the morphine she took from the nebulizer. She does still use the neb, though for a different medicine so she can breathe more clearly. Yeah, it's a lot of morphine and it’s all pretty nasty, but trust me when I say you’re being spared the worst of it. Erin, Jenny, and I were making some jokes about her symptoms on Monday night that some of you would find thoroughly nauseating.
*****
After she died, I wrote out a cinder-block sized manuscript that described in excruciating detail what the whole experience had been like for our family -- my therapy. When I wrote about this hospital visit, I did actually describe the symptoms mentioned above. Out of context of the whole story, I’m pretty sure it would be appreciated if I leave them out here online. You're welcome.
*****
We were there for a long time on Wednesday, but as I look back at the day now I don't remember it feeling long or boring. Mom stayed again Wednesday night, and in fact did not leave the hospital the entire time Erin was admitted. Although I'm sure she was wishing she'd brought a change of clothes.
When I got home on Wednesday I had an e-mail from my cousin Kelly, who works in pharmacy like Jenny, and is scary-smart about it all like Jenny. She said getting a PICC line was pretty routine and could be a wonderful thing when it came to pain management.
Dad brought Erin and Mom home Friday morning. Erin slept while Mom washed their clothes and cleaned up after being a hospital guest herself for three days. Erin was kind of down now that the whole thing was over, and here she had this "next thing" sticking out of her arm that she had to deal with.
*****
She lived a little more than two months past these events. It was always the “next things” that would come along, the surprising benchmarks that would remind me everything about her illness was real. These days, so many years later, it’s still the random reminders that unexpectedly remind me it all really happened.
I had a moment today that brought the following story into my active memory, and for whatever reason I know the only way I’m going to be able to purge it is to put it up here. Back when my sister was sick, the job of keeping the long list of concerned family and friends in the loop about her progress fell to me, being Writer Boy and all. So here are some excepts from the hundred-plus pages of text I mass-mailed out over a period of eight months.
*****
Update - July 19
Erin called me this evening with some news she wanted to pass along. Her hospice nurse was out to see her and scheduled a hospital visit for her to have a PICC line implanted in her arm. She was bothered about this as she is whenever something new happens, but Jenny told her having a PICC line implanted was a pretty routine thing.
Mom says Erin will definitely spend at least one night in the hospital, but beyond that we don't know. It might only be one night, it might be two -- I guess we wait and see. She is tired of trying to cough so much and hopefully having this will minimize the pain she feels. After talking with her nurse, she had to admit things are progressing. She feels like she has a pretty good timeline in her head now and is trying to accept it.
Update - July 25
Erin didn't get as much sleep as she normally does and was a bit stressed about being away from her home, where she feels safe. Mom stayed with her in the room, sleeping in a chair. Jenny and I went to visit the first night for an hour or two. Mom was pretty wound up about being in the hospital again. She'd been in the room for more than a few hours when we got there, so I said I was hungry and wanted to go down to the cafeteria, which was only partially true. Mom said she had a sandwich in her bag that I could have and Jenny made a joke about Ron Weasley, a reference some people will get and some won’t. We were both thinking -- independently as it turns out -- that we wanted to get Mom out of the room for a much needed change in her surroundings. We eventually did.
Erin's mood bounced in several directions during her stay, but she was always welcoming and personable when one of the nurses stopped in. Those of you who know her well won't be surprised to hear she made fast friends with the nurses, and many of them stopped in just to chat during her visit. She had several other visitors as well; it was a lucky bit of chance her doctor was on duty during her stay so he was in to check up on her a few times. Every person that Erin knows through both hospice and the cancer center came up to see her when they heard she was checked in. Many came in on a professional basis, but several also came to visit during their time off. Erin’s hospice nurse even brought her one of the Monte Cristo sandwiches she treasures so much, a step up from hospital food.
The PICC line went in on Wednesday morning. The procedure was fairly simple, though she felt a little stiffness in her arm afterward. Jenny and I were there most of the day Wednesday. There was a lot of TV, reading, walks down the hall, snacks, naps, talks, breaks for meals, and visits from the hospital staff. One of Erin’s friends had sent me pictures of her new baby girl, which I printed and brought to show her.
Erin decided she wanted to continue her treatment relying only on the new pump for her morphine, which means she can finally stop using the patches. However, giving up the patches would mean staying in the hospital another day so the medicine from her current patch would have time to wear off before the pump can be calibrated. She is now done with the morphine patches, as well as the liquid morphine and the morphine she took from the nebulizer. She does still use the neb, though for a different medicine so she can breathe more clearly. Yeah, it's a lot of morphine and it’s all pretty nasty, but trust me when I say you’re being spared the worst of it. Erin, Jenny, and I were making some jokes about her symptoms on Monday night that some of you would find thoroughly nauseating.
*****
After she died, I wrote out a cinder-block sized manuscript that described in excruciating detail what the whole experience had been like for our family -- my therapy. When I wrote about this hospital visit, I did actually describe the symptoms mentioned above. Out of context of the whole story, I’m pretty sure it would be appreciated if I leave them out here online. You're welcome.
*****
We were there for a long time on Wednesday, but as I look back at the day now I don't remember it feeling long or boring. Mom stayed again Wednesday night, and in fact did not leave the hospital the entire time Erin was admitted. Although I'm sure she was wishing she'd brought a change of clothes.
When I got home on Wednesday I had an e-mail from my cousin Kelly, who works in pharmacy like Jenny, and is scary-smart about it all like Jenny. She said getting a PICC line was pretty routine and could be a wonderful thing when it came to pain management.
Dad brought Erin and Mom home Friday morning. Erin slept while Mom washed their clothes and cleaned up after being a hospital guest herself for three days. Erin was kind of down now that the whole thing was over, and here she had this "next thing" sticking out of her arm that she had to deal with.
*****
She lived a little more than two months past these events. It was always the “next things” that would come along, the surprising benchmarks that would remind me everything about her illness was real. These days, so many years later, it’s still the random reminders that unexpectedly remind me it all really happened.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
An Open Letter to Nephew #1 (and #4)
Dear Nephew #1, and #4, and... step-niece?... that sounds right... and any number of cousins about to experience or already experiencing their earliest days and years of college (but mostly Nephew #1):
If I was given the chance to revisit any period in my life, I’d go back to any random month I spent in college. The learning, the newfound independence, the emerging self-definition, the failures and successes, the constantly evolving relationships both long-term and temporary... it’s an exhilarating time. I’m a tiny bit jealous that you’re about to become immersed in all of that.
There’s a cliché about how “if I knew back then what I know now...” meaning there are things people would have done differently with the benefits of age and experience informing their decisions. Of course nobody gets to do this, but today I get to do the next best thing: I get to set out some advice to an eighteen-year-old kid who is frighteningly similar to me. You know this is true; we’ve both seen examples of it and have had it pointed out many times. And I don’t mind that, because if your best characteristics are things people see in me as well, hey, I’ll take it. But I’ve also noticed how sometimes you can reflect a few of my weaknesses, and I’d hate to see those things get in the way of your happiness. I won’t go into the list of what those things are because if you didn’t agree with me you’d find a way to deconstruct my point and turn it around in a reasonably logical way that would be hard to refute (and yeah, that tendency would be high on the list for sure), so instead I’m just going to plow ahead with what could appear to the bystander as little more than general advice about leaving home and going to college. But there will be a few things here that carry added depth. So here we go:
*I know you're psyched to leave high school behind. This is as it should be, and frankly I feel sorry for anyone who looks back at high school as the best part of their life. BUT. It's important to remember that everyone and everything you leave behind, all the positives and negatives of your school and your beloved community, had some part in forming the person you are now and are still becoming.
*The blank slate is a beautiful thing. You'll settle in, meet some new people and spend the first few weeks being whoever you want to be and nobody will care. No history, no baggage, no labels; everything completely neutral and waiting for definition. You'll live in glorious, intoxicating anonymity for awhile, and even after you establish your new circles of friends and acquaintances that's how things will be most of the time. Enjoy it.
*These coming years will be the very last time in your whole life you are almost exclusively surrounded by people your age. Take advantage of that. Soak up college life, whatever that winds up meaning for you. I’m not saying to forcibly embed yourself into every aspect of the campus community, but dip your toes into something new once in awhile. Some of my best memories from that time came from the chances I took, and my biggest regrets had to do with opportunities I let pass by. Do not let hesitation dictate your path. It’s not a path you want to follow.
*The educator in me has to get this out: In high school it was the job of your teachers to teach you. In college it will be your job to learn. If you don’t find a way to do the learning, you can’t blame anyone else for it, and it’s not always going to be a ride around the lake. Professors won’t care about which clubs people were or were not in, who took advanced placement and who had IEPs for extra help, who earned a letter jacket and who didn’t. To some of them you’ll be nothing more than a face in the crowd, a name on an assignment, or a number on a list. Some will recognize and appreciate what you have to offer, but be ready for that to be the exception. It’s just the way the machine works, especially in the first couple of years. (Especially in a BIG school, Hank.)
*When you throw yourself into doing your best and things still don't quite work out, let that be okay. I got a B instead of an A on an English paper once because I argued with the professor about an analogy I refused to change (I was right by the way; it’s not wrong to compare large groups of junior high kids to insects). Try to handle those situations with a little more poise and diplomacy and maturity than I did. You'll make mistakes or things will take a wrong turn of their own accord, or even a combination of the two might happen. Just pick up the pieces and move on, and don't make it bigger than it needs to be. And in the end, remember your GPA will only wind up being one line on the resumé. Yeah, it's important, but it's not everything.
*When you move off-campus, think really hard about the neighborhood you’re choosing. For instance: If you ever get an apartment only blocks away from a meat-packing plant, don’t look out the window when you hear a truck pulling out. Some of those trucks have open tops and you don’t want to see the cargo they’re hauling away. This may seem oddly specific, but I promise it’s worth remembering.
*There will be a temptation to think you’re an adult and believe that you know everything. After all, you’ll live away from home, you get to vote this year and you’re making a lot of independent decisions. Don’t make the mistake of thinking this automatically levels you up to the rank of Responsible Adult. If you feel like you know everything, that’s okay. It’s normal for your age group to think that. And you do know a lot more than most people. But in about ten years when you’re closing in on thirty? You’ll slowly start to realize that you do not, in fact, know half as much about anything as you’ve always thought you did.
*Remember the lessons Davy taught you this summer, but remember that college is not meant to be a four-year Turtle Lake weekend. Part of college is getting as much stupid out of your system as you can before life really starts to count. Remember there is always a line to be drawn for stupid in any situation. If it’s the kind of stupid that leaves you with nothing but some temporary embarrassment after the weekend, that’s not the end of the world. But avoid the kinds of stupid that can abruptly point your life in a direction you don’t want it to follow.
*Get a girlfriend and date her for at least a few months, and when things fall apart make sure she really tears you to ragged shreds. That way you’ll eventually see getting dumped isn’t the end of the world.
*You’re going to be surrounded by a lot of people who have awful taste in music, and yet they’ll feel as passionate about their music as you do about yours. Resist the urge to point out how misguided they are. You’ll only come off like a fifth grade boy dramatically covering his ears and complaining about how much Justin Bieber sucks.
*There is a lot of pizza in your immediate future. Get some exercise. Seriously.
*You might be tempted to blow off your generals. Some might be easier than what you’ve already done in high school, but don’t give in. No matter how easy they are, the grades you get in that first year carry a lot of weight when it comes to establishing a baseline GPA. And you don’t want to find yourself hundredths of a point away from graduating one level of honor higher than you will, and knowing that it would have made all the difference if you’d just gotten a B instead of a C in that one freshman class where you spent half your time playing with the light reflecting from your watch onto the ceiling. That kind of thing can stick with you.
*A lot of the things you’ll wind up hating because they frustrate you so much, whether they are classes or experiences or people, will someday become the things you can dismiss with an eye roll and a laugh. The worst class I had is now one of my more amusing college anecdotes. These trials won’t be fun while they’re happening, but eventually they’ll be reduced to footnotes. Hold that truth in the back of your mind.
*Stay in touch with people. I know, texting and Facebook have changed the world a little since the late 1980s, but one of my best memories from college would be the days I’d walk into the dorm lobby after class, check the mailbox, and find a letter from one of my cousins waiting for me. Mail is always a good thing, even if it’s electronic. Subscribe to a magazine or two, just so you can enjoy that break in the routine when it shows up.
*Text your mother sometimes, just because. (I’d say “call,” but that’s kind of outdated, and we both know getting your mother on the phone is no easy task.)
*If you have a professor tell you there are multiple forms of a test and you’re using a bubble sheet to mark your answers, pay very close attention to which form you have and where you should hand in your answer sheet. That way you can avoid studying really hard the night before and scoring an 11 out of 50 because you put your answers in the wrong *&%@! pile. Which is really a hard pill to swallow when there are only three tests in the term and your grade is based on their average.
*Never walk barefoot in a dorm bathroom. Never, ever. There’s more awful going on in those than even the CDC could categorize.
*Take advantage of this time to discover who you are and to prepare for the life you want to have. Learn to recognize the small events as well as the big ones. Pause and occasionally allow yourself half a thought to appreciate what’s happening to you in the moment, because, believe it or not, these next few years are going to absolutely fly by.
If I was given the chance to revisit any period in my life, I’d go back to any random month I spent in college. The learning, the newfound independence, the emerging self-definition, the failures and successes, the constantly evolving relationships both long-term and temporary... it’s an exhilarating time. I’m a tiny bit jealous that you’re about to become immersed in all of that.
There’s a cliché about how “if I knew back then what I know now...” meaning there are things people would have done differently with the benefits of age and experience informing their decisions. Of course nobody gets to do this, but today I get to do the next best thing: I get to set out some advice to an eighteen-year-old kid who is frighteningly similar to me. You know this is true; we’ve both seen examples of it and have had it pointed out many times. And I don’t mind that, because if your best characteristics are things people see in me as well, hey, I’ll take it. But I’ve also noticed how sometimes you can reflect a few of my weaknesses, and I’d hate to see those things get in the way of your happiness. I won’t go into the list of what those things are because if you didn’t agree with me you’d find a way to deconstruct my point and turn it around in a reasonably logical way that would be hard to refute (and yeah, that tendency would be high on the list for sure), so instead I’m just going to plow ahead with what could appear to the bystander as little more than general advice about leaving home and going to college. But there will be a few things here that carry added depth. So here we go:
*I know you're psyched to leave high school behind. This is as it should be, and frankly I feel sorry for anyone who looks back at high school as the best part of their life. BUT. It's important to remember that everyone and everything you leave behind, all the positives and negatives of your school and your beloved community, had some part in forming the person you are now and are still becoming.
*The blank slate is a beautiful thing. You'll settle in, meet some new people and spend the first few weeks being whoever you want to be and nobody will care. No history, no baggage, no labels; everything completely neutral and waiting for definition. You'll live in glorious, intoxicating anonymity for awhile, and even after you establish your new circles of friends and acquaintances that's how things will be most of the time. Enjoy it.
*These coming years will be the very last time in your whole life you are almost exclusively surrounded by people your age. Take advantage of that. Soak up college life, whatever that winds up meaning for you. I’m not saying to forcibly embed yourself into every aspect of the campus community, but dip your toes into something new once in awhile. Some of my best memories from that time came from the chances I took, and my biggest regrets had to do with opportunities I let pass by. Do not let hesitation dictate your path. It’s not a path you want to follow.
*The educator in me has to get this out: In high school it was the job of your teachers to teach you. In college it will be your job to learn. If you don’t find a way to do the learning, you can’t blame anyone else for it, and it’s not always going to be a ride around the lake. Professors won’t care about which clubs people were or were not in, who took advanced placement and who had IEPs for extra help, who earned a letter jacket and who didn’t. To some of them you’ll be nothing more than a face in the crowd, a name on an assignment, or a number on a list. Some will recognize and appreciate what you have to offer, but be ready for that to be the exception. It’s just the way the machine works, especially in the first couple of years. (Especially in a BIG school, Hank.)
*When you throw yourself into doing your best and things still don't quite work out, let that be okay. I got a B instead of an A on an English paper once because I argued with the professor about an analogy I refused to change (I was right by the way; it’s not wrong to compare large groups of junior high kids to insects). Try to handle those situations with a little more poise and diplomacy and maturity than I did. You'll make mistakes or things will take a wrong turn of their own accord, or even a combination of the two might happen. Just pick up the pieces and move on, and don't make it bigger than it needs to be. And in the end, remember your GPA will only wind up being one line on the resumé. Yeah, it's important, but it's not everything.
*When you move off-campus, think really hard about the neighborhood you’re choosing. For instance: If you ever get an apartment only blocks away from a meat-packing plant, don’t look out the window when you hear a truck pulling out. Some of those trucks have open tops and you don’t want to see the cargo they’re hauling away. This may seem oddly specific, but I promise it’s worth remembering.
*There will be a temptation to think you’re an adult and believe that you know everything. After all, you’ll live away from home, you get to vote this year and you’re making a lot of independent decisions. Don’t make the mistake of thinking this automatically levels you up to the rank of Responsible Adult. If you feel like you know everything, that’s okay. It’s normal for your age group to think that. And you do know a lot more than most people. But in about ten years when you’re closing in on thirty? You’ll slowly start to realize that you do not, in fact, know half as much about anything as you’ve always thought you did.
*Remember the lessons Davy taught you this summer, but remember that college is not meant to be a four-year Turtle Lake weekend. Part of college is getting as much stupid out of your system as you can before life really starts to count. Remember there is always a line to be drawn for stupid in any situation. If it’s the kind of stupid that leaves you with nothing but some temporary embarrassment after the weekend, that’s not the end of the world. But avoid the kinds of stupid that can abruptly point your life in a direction you don’t want it to follow.
*Get a girlfriend and date her for at least a few months, and when things fall apart make sure she really tears you to ragged shreds. That way you’ll eventually see getting dumped isn’t the end of the world.
*You’re going to be surrounded by a lot of people who have awful taste in music, and yet they’ll feel as passionate about their music as you do about yours. Resist the urge to point out how misguided they are. You’ll only come off like a fifth grade boy dramatically covering his ears and complaining about how much Justin Bieber sucks.
*There is a lot of pizza in your immediate future. Get some exercise. Seriously.
*You might be tempted to blow off your generals. Some might be easier than what you’ve already done in high school, but don’t give in. No matter how easy they are, the grades you get in that first year carry a lot of weight when it comes to establishing a baseline GPA. And you don’t want to find yourself hundredths of a point away from graduating one level of honor higher than you will, and knowing that it would have made all the difference if you’d just gotten a B instead of a C in that one freshman class where you spent half your time playing with the light reflecting from your watch onto the ceiling. That kind of thing can stick with you.
*A lot of the things you’ll wind up hating because they frustrate you so much, whether they are classes or experiences or people, will someday become the things you can dismiss with an eye roll and a laugh. The worst class I had is now one of my more amusing college anecdotes. These trials won’t be fun while they’re happening, but eventually they’ll be reduced to footnotes. Hold that truth in the back of your mind.
*Stay in touch with people. I know, texting and Facebook have changed the world a little since the late 1980s, but one of my best memories from college would be the days I’d walk into the dorm lobby after class, check the mailbox, and find a letter from one of my cousins waiting for me. Mail is always a good thing, even if it’s electronic. Subscribe to a magazine or two, just so you can enjoy that break in the routine when it shows up.
*Text your mother sometimes, just because. (I’d say “call,” but that’s kind of outdated, and we both know getting your mother on the phone is no easy task.)
*If you have a professor tell you there are multiple forms of a test and you’re using a bubble sheet to mark your answers, pay very close attention to which form you have and where you should hand in your answer sheet. That way you can avoid studying really hard the night before and scoring an 11 out of 50 because you put your answers in the wrong *&%@! pile. Which is really a hard pill to swallow when there are only three tests in the term and your grade is based on their average.
*Never walk barefoot in a dorm bathroom. Never, ever. There’s more awful going on in those than even the CDC could categorize.
*Take advantage of this time to discover who you are and to prepare for the life you want to have. Learn to recognize the small events as well as the big ones. Pause and occasionally allow yourself half a thought to appreciate what’s happening to you in the moment, because, believe it or not, these next few years are going to absolutely fly by.
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