EVERYTHING IS FINE HERE

Everything went precisely to hell this semester.

I started out as a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed little creature, flitting about North Campus like a coked-out baby deer. Fluffy, happy, ready to see each day as the beautiful gift that it was- this was me on September 8th, the first day of class.

And then it was September 9th and with that basically came the tidal wave of poop. Let me make a poop list. I’m not trying to have a ‘My Life is Busier than Yours!’ competition because no one likes the person who starts those, but let me just make a poop list. Poop list- 15 hours per week at a job; two hours of practicing a day; 18 credits; rehearsals; two hours a day of working out. So basically everything went to hell. I got my first D on an exam. Everything was seriously in hell. My boss yelled at me. Everything=in hell. I wasn’t performing as well as I hoped. Everything was getting roasted in hell. My pet rat started losing weight for no reasons, and everything was in hell.

This class- and my teacher Shelley- are two of the things that went to Home Depot, bought rope, filled a little basket with marshmallows and Moscato and everything else I like, and lowered it down to hell, thus luring my entire life back to earth.

I loved this class because it didn’t stress me out. Now, I know that sounds like a bullshit reason, but let me explain. My whole semester, I’ve been faced with the kind of stress that is centered around getting a final product. With horn, I was stressed because my playing wasn’t what I wanted it to be in the concert. With work, I was stressed because my boss would be mad at the end of the night if there was a complaint. There wasn’t a lot of room for wide-stretched growth, without running the risk of getting completely derailed because of short-term goals. With this class, I knew that the grades I got, I could make them better if I continued to work on the project. This was very comforting to me, because I knew that I could always keep improving and getting recognized for it. The short term deadlines were just that- deadlines. I had all the time in the semester to keep going back and making my work better, which was something I’d never felt in a class before. I never felt like my entire grade was resting on getting something done in the short term, because this class is so long-term based. This is not to say that I never felt the heat in this class. When I was scurrying to get my memoir done, I was really wigged out at the thought of not getting it finished in time. When I hit the submit button, I was excited because it was done, but I was scared that it wouldn’t be up to par. When I learned that I had more time to keep working on it before the ePortfolio deadline, I was thrilled!

Also, can we just take a moment to make a dope monument of Shelley Manis’ face and put it in the Diag? Like right next to the big M. People would avoid stepping on the M in pursuit of a good grade, people would avoid stepping on the Shelley monument in pursuit of a good life. I feel like this should be the university’s next sculptural idea.

So life went to shit this semester. But this class prevented me from sitting in a corner, quietly weeping and eating Thin Mints by the sleeve. And if that isn’t a positive experience, I don’t know what is.

Ellie Snyder

Underweight, annoying glasses-enthusiast seeks nice Jewish boy to sit on her feet when they're cold. And also some good words and some not-too-strong coffee.

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