Charm Is Deceptive and Beauty is Fleeting...

The unavoidable tragedy of my creeper is that he is the cutest guy I have ever seen. Let me explain. I have a friend here at Furman who asks me out all. the. time. For some girls, this situation might be fine, and even a welcome one, but I am NOT most girls. When anything in my life happens too much, too fast, I get freaked out and run. Therefore, I guy I met TWO DAYS AGO harassing me on facebook every time I get on is simply not ok, and is causing me to head for the hills. I don't care how nice he is, this is just too much. However, the tragedy of it is that he is the MOST attractive thing I have seen in awhile...a true tragedy in my mind. He's cute, why is he WEIRD?! Heres a lesson ladies: don't ever judge a book by its cover. It may be the nicest, most colorful and cute cover you have ever seen, but what matters is what is written on the pages.

In other news, I received a high compliment today. I was told that I'm refreshing, that I know how to enjoy the simple pleasures in life. I do, in fact. This week, I have been dealing with some particularly awkward food cravings as a result of high stress levels (I'm a girl, I can't help it). These include burgers, pecan pie, chinese food at 3 in the morning...yum. Because of these annoying urges, my friends and I decided to satisfy the easiest of these cravings in the form of a cheeseburger from five guys. I cannot even begin to describe to you the taste of that first bite of burger: my stomach was empty in preparation for the even, I had been waiting all day for it, it was juicy and complete with all the necessary trimmings. In other words, it was heaven. This may seem small, and even a bit greedy, but my week has been starting to wear on me, and through the mire of schoolwork and the drama that just comes from being young, to be able to put aside all that and laugh with some friends is a truly wonderful thing. I wish I had the ability to let go of those pent up emotions more often. I find that I sometimes bury my stress deep inside me, and it comes out at the most awkward times. Today in my leadership meeting, for instance, we had a really emotional session that involved one excercise where the man leading it read a scenario (it could be an easy thing like where you are from, or something harder, like stuff about suicidal thoughts, family issues...) and then we had to step into the circle and turn our backs to everyone else if it applied to us. I admitted some hard things, and watching others do the same brought me closer to crying than I have been in a long time (fun fact: i never cry). It was really emotional, and an interesting release of all the pent up emotions that have been bouncing around in my head. At any rate, life may be hard, and things my be stressful. But every little thing is gonna be alright!

Za Za Zsu

I have za za zsu on the brain. If you don't know what that is, experience my new addiction (well, new is a lie. This obsession is more like an old friend) Anyways, watch season 5 of Sex and the City, then you will understand. Actually, Sex and the City defined my fall break, or at least, parts of it.

The break was wonderful, as expected. I got to see some people in my life I truly miss, and some people I do not miss quite as much, but still need to see every now and then. I also got to spend more time with my sister than should be allowed. I think its a good idea to say, since it has not yet been said on this blog, how much I love my sister and my siblings in general. God has blessed me with a beautiful set of siblings, and to say that I love to spend time with them is a drastic understatement. I never run out of things to say or grow tired of spending time with them. When I think about the things in my life that are hard, or occurrences and challenges that i do not really understand and cannot make sense of, I remember the things in my life that are important, and the things that have been given to me to help with the struggles that will come my way. I know I have someone to go to when I am down, or when life becomes too hard to deal with. So, the bottom line. When things get hard, I will ALWAYS have something to fall back on, something I can never fully express how grateful I am for. My sister and I took our traditional trip to Charlotte on saturday, and it was fun. We sit in the car together, drink starbucks, and shop without really ever buying anything necessary. You know those things you do just for the pure joy of it, and not for any monetary or tangible gain? For example, when you walk by a pile of fall leaves and simply cannot pass without jumping in and inhaling the sweet and fresh smell, or when driving on the open road, and you cannot help but roll down the leaves and let the wind whip your hair into your face...these are what our trips to Charlotte are. Simply time spent together, simply being together and being OURSELVES in the purest form. Laughing, joking, contemplating life's questions; these are thing things we do together. In case you cannot already tell, this was the highlight of my fall break. I love my sister.

Its Always Better When We're Together

I'm not really sure why I'm awake right now. It is currently 5:23 AM, meaning that I have slept roughly three hours on this beautiful monday morning. My initial late-ness to bed was SORT of due to my complete inability to remember that I am doing laundry. At this point, I am almost convinced I should be diagnosed for ADD, it really is becoming quite ridiculous. Over the course of my entire evening, I started my laundry, then forgot about it, then remembered it but didn't go check it, then forgot, then....the cycle continues, culminating in my bold entrance into the laundry room at 2:30 AM. The only thing that sucks worse than that is the guy who had three textbooks surrounding him in the laundry room as he waited for his clothes to dry; its hot, stuffy, and loud in the laundry room, find a better place to study good sir. That, of course, is not the only reason, but it is the most frustrating.

I have no desire to go to class this week. My workload last week was brutal (yes, thank you Furman. I would love a test/paper due every single day of the week.) Therefore, I am completely burnt out. I look at my load of reading that I do and think to myself, "fall break, three days away." Then I find better things to do. That reminds me, I am truly excited about my fall break plans. Funny how things change, two weeks ago I scoffed at the idea of going home for fall break; I'm not sure why, but for some reason I equated this with being a loser. I wanted to go somewhere else, do something new and crazy (as if I haven't done enough new and crazy things lately. At least my life is never boring) However, these past few days have shown me something very important about myself: I am tired. I am tired of sleeping in a bed thats not mine, I'm tired of a communal life situation (though I love my roomates/hall-mates). I'm tired of, quite literally, being in the Furman bubble all the time and not really knowing what is going on in the real world. I've taken to reading the news online every morning just so I don't feel so isolated from society. So...my decision was made completely on a whim, as all my decisions are. I decided what I wanted, then made it happen. This entailed calling my sister, relaying my desire to sleep in her bed for four days, receiving a "HECK YA!" in response (not really, my sister doesn't use that expression) and now I cannot wait. For four days, I am going to get to hang with my favorite person in the entire world, plus see the friends that are going to be home, and I CANNOT wait. These next couple of days cannot go fast enough. Wednesday, you are wanted!

One more thing that I just thought of. I have been contemplating this entity that is college, and how it has changed me, even in the few months that I've been here. As I examine the person I am right now, I realize that it is one that is very different from the (in many ways) wide eyed girl that stepped into haynesworth 100 only a few weeks ago. I have changed a little bit since I got here, I think. I'm re-evaluating a lot of the things I thought I had completely figured out; in many ways it seems as though my rose colored glasses have been shed, and I can see the real world. I've finally left behind many of the perceptions placed on me by my upbringing and the environment I was put in; I think I'm growing up. When I consider the direction Rachel Glasser is headed, it is one that is filled with sudden uncertainty. I no longer know exactly where I'm headed, or the things I want to do. All I know is a basic outline, and I'm letting God fill the rest in. I must say, this new me is not one that I would have predicted, but I like her.

Fall on me...

I love autumn, and all it entails. There are very few things that bring me more pleasure in life than the sight of red, orange, and yellow leaves hanging from the trees. To me they symbolize time, and its effects on our lives. New things come and grow old, and then they move on. Some things are only around for a season. They come, give to us what they can, and then blow away with the breeze. It is our responsibility to be aware of the lessons that can be learned from the events and people that shape our lives, and not remain stagnant towards entities that could serve to further mold us into the people we are supposed to be.

Today was Fall Fest at Furman. I love my school, and the fact that it offers me the chance to dress up in a crazy costume and go trick or treating and play games with a bunch of kids from Greenville who otherwise wouldn't have this opportunity. I could not have gotten a more beautiful group of girls + one boy; they were all so sweet and looking for love, it was the highlight of my week running up and down the halls of south housing and eating snow cones. The one thing that truly broke my heart was, amidst the screaming and running around trying to convince me that I WASN'T a real fairy and that I couldn't actually fly or give fairy dust that brings good luck, one girl said to me, "I'm so glad I came today. Home is boring, I don't have any toys there." I grew up in a very privilaged situation, I'm fully aware of that. I have no idea what its like to not have toys growing up. They could not believe this is my school. Sometimes I feel like I have so much, and I either think I deserve it or I don't even stop to think about the people that are not as lucky as I am. It makes me feel very selfish, and very oblivious. There are so many kids like the precious ones I got to hang out with today, who do not have nearly as much as I do...and yet I complain about things like how crappy the DH food is and how my bed is not as big as I would like it to be. Where is the sense in that? I wish I could take those kids back to my dorm room with me, and I wish there was so much more I could do for people in need. There are so many opportunities here, I just need to find them. Anyways, today was great. I'm tired.

Do you prefer fashion victim or ensemblelly challenged?

My obsession continues. I took the facebook quiz today, its official. I AM Harry Potter. Therefore, my dream was wrong. I shouldn't have been the keeper in the Quidditch World Cup, I should have been the seeker. Duh. How could I have been so wrong about this. Today during my seminar, I placed my Harry Potter book next to my Shakespeare textbook, just for safe keeping, and Radel stared at it for a good 25 seconds, and then looked away without commenting. I was so confused. This man is the most amazing/socially awkward/controversial man in the world. For some reason, I want to be just like him in many aspects, walking around in the world just being me, not caring what other people think or feel about the way I am. All his actions say, "Yes, I am in fact a genius in many regards. I'm your tenured professor, and that makes me a boss. DEAL WITH IT." Thats why I want to be a college professor (well, one of a few reasons). I can walk around with my nose stuck straight up in the air, because when I have PHD, it will mean I truly am smarter than you, I'm not making it up. Finally, a genuine reason for pride.

Right now, I'm in a truly bad mood. It's late, and I made the tremendous mistake of drinking coffee around 10:00 tonight (really, whose stupid enough to do that. I think, "Oh, I'm hungry. Coffee is my mmmm, feel good, beverage of choice. WHY NOT?" I'll tell you why. One word: caffeine.) Anyways, instead of sleeping, I'm going to make a list of things that are making me in an even worse mood, just for fun. Its one in the morning, what else is there to do?

THINGS THAT TICK ME OFF AT ONE IN THE MORNING:

1. Unnecessary public displays of affection. Come on, no one wants to see that.

2. Facebook chat. It freezes, never sends things when you want it to, and the annoying sound it makes when you receive a new message is terrible.

3. Its freaking hot in my room. Lets face it, dorm life has lost its charm. I love college, everything about it actually. I'm so happy here. But cement walls and heat stroke make me unhappy.

4. Sorority/fraternity shirts. I don't know why, those little greek letters....not good.

5. Cold weather. Lets just face it, its going to be cold tomorrow when I walk outside the door around 10:00 AM. Curse you, upstate SC. I can either have heat stroke in my room, or coldness outside.

6. The fact that I generally can't have things that I want. I'm such a jealous person, and I've been pitching more inside fits than anyone on the planet. I just want a genie in a magic lamp that I can wish on and solve all my problems. Then life would be easy.

7. Studying. I'm lazy, why did I pick Furman again? The overnight room at the Furman Library reminds me of the orphaneches in Oliver Twist or Annie, where all the kids are stuck there and totally miserable, pining away scrubbing the floors. Furman studying is the same way. You're stuck doing something you hate in a cold, uncomfortable place, and all you want is more coffee. Its a hard knock life for us.

8. One word responses to text messages. Alright. I sent you something interesting. Stop being lazy, and type something out. I do not respond (as a general rule) to: hey, whats up, nice, lol, thats cool....you get the idea. Grow a personality and write something interesting.

9. Drunk Dialing. I have this one friend who drunk dials me all the time (it just happened actually). If I didn't love him so much despite his antics, I would not pick up the phone. His calls are always obnoxious, he has mean things to say...its just not fun. The only plus is that sometimes, he'll tell me things that in real life he would never say...which is useful.

10. Entitlement. People touch my stuff without asking, it gets moved around, suddenly I can't find things...I'm a shareful person. And I will be totally ok with it, for the most part. Just ask me.

Well, I'm now tired of making that list, because its making me even more irate. I also feel a little bit rude for complaining so much. I hope I dream about Harry Potter again. That would be epic.

What is that mysterious ticking noise?

Harry Potter is my life right now. There are very few things in my life that could make me truly resent William, however my desire to read The Sorcerer's Stone has fully eclipsed any love I have for Hamlet, currently open in front of me. I am coming to resent my FYW seminar professor, who forces two acts of Shakespeare on me in two days. Radel, thats a little bit excessive. All I want is Harry. This desire is taking over my life at such an alarming rate that I dreamed about it last night. Yes my friends, I played Quidditch in my dream last night, culminating in an epic one handed catch, while hanging onto the broom by one leg. I now fully believe I was destined to be a keeper at the World Cup in my former lifetime. Too bad reality, the ever present downer, dragged me out of Hogwarts with the buzzing of my alarm. I was slightly disappointed all day.

I spent my last night in the overnight room at the library, and now here I am again. This place is becoming simultaneously the most familiar and most hated place on Furman's campus. To think when I visited Furman, I was walking on cloud nine after I left the library; I could not believe I was going to get to check out books from that place. Now, the rose colored glasses have been removed from my eyes, and it has become my constant companion. Shakespeare, Psychology, Religions....the laundry list of homework is ever recurring and never done. Beethoven plays in my ears, echoing my slightly turbulent mood. I hate studying.

Final update for the day. I sought revenge on my sister in a technologically advanced way (by that I mean, revising her facebook). Not only did I post heinously unattractive pictures of her, and THEN i wrote things like INTERESTS: knitting. cross stitching. planting flowers. I laughed for a good twenty five minutes, no joke. Shows the level of my maturity: I have a headache from the tears that poured down my face. What goes around comes around, I suppose.

"As it is common for the younger sort to lack discretion..."

My life now has meaning again. My time at Furman thus far has been rather dreary as far as my academic progress is concerned; I have never been one to receive bad (or even average) grades. Suddenly, I have scores of them to my name, and I take them all as a personal offense, because I know I'm capable of better. When I complain about this, upperclassman simply smile blithely and say, "Welcome to Furman." I hate this response, though it seems that no matter how hard I try, I am doomed to failure. This has been my mindset; I have never been more stressed about maintaining a GPA and succeeding in class in my life. I have yet to reap the rewards of this labor, and was growing rather tired of trying. However today, I was handed the most exciting compliment I have ever received. It put the proverbial wind back into my sails, so to speak.

At Furman, we (the freshman) are forced to take classes known as "first year seminars" that focus heavily on writing and other disciplines, in order to level the playing field of incoming students. If an intensive writing class is offered, then a stellar performance can obviously be expected post completion of this course. I love to write, and the idea of a writing intensive course is something that I relish, and have decided to put my heart and soul into. This is why my first paper simply HAD to be a work of art in my mind. I put blood, sweat, and tears into that assignment (as well as much of my sanity for several consecutive days). My professor did not like me, or value my opinion in any way. He saw no problem in telling me that i was WRONG, and that my opinion is invalid. "STOP IMPOSING YOUR SUBURBANIZED, CHRISTIAN GIRL PHILOSOPHIES ON THE REST OF THIS CLASS..." he says to me. Then, today, a breakthrough. Frustratingly, he refused to give me a grade on my first paper until i met with him. Walking into his office, I expected rage. I was braced for him to rip my paper to shreds, as he had all my other work. Instead, Professor Radel says to me, "Rachel Glasser. I submitted your paper to different plagerism sites on the internet, convinced that a college freshman could not produce this level of work. Where did you learn to write like this?" I respond in shock, "Professor, I love to read..." He says to me. "I could not even tell you what you're paper was about, I was so blown away by the style and level of polish that your writing possesses. In all my time at Furman, I have never encountered this level of skill in a freshman. You are one of the best writers I have seen in quite some time. Well done. Do you have any plans concerning writing as a career?" By this time, a smile has lit my face, and I respond with full confidence, "Why yes. Yes I do." WHAT?!

Conclusion: The one thing I profess to be able to do, at least I can do it well.

A Lackluster Weekend: Culminating in This Blog

I attend Furman University, and it truly is a great place. The campus is so beautiful that sometimes, in the midst of the bustle of my everyday, I stop and look around in wonder thinking to myself, "I cannot believe I live here." It offers me the chance for great friends, challenging and exciting classes, and countless ways to expand my horizons and turn me into a well rounded, exceptional jack of all trades. However, this weekend, Furman offered me a gift I was not necessarily ready to receive in the form of Parent's Weekend. This entity is one that I am positive no college student truly enjoys or longs for; the weekend is a time for us to kick back, cast off the stress of the week, and chill for awhile. Its a great thing to be able to cut loose and be young, before we have to step back into the pressures and struggles of our everyday lives. We have to be mature all week, we just want to be kids on the weekend. This joy is taken away from us, for instead of being able to "cut loose", we are forced to show our parents around our campus, telling them pointless details about our lives ONLY they would ever want to know. We have to awkwardly introduce them to our new friends, and they say things like, "OH honey you're so pretty!" , or "Is that young man your boyfriend?" We have to entertain them for three whole day! Why does Furman force this torture on us? At any rate, parent's weekend arrived, and as the child of a divorce, only my mother was in attendance. This was totally fine with me, a friend of mine had both her separated parent's in attendance, and the horror stories she has are utterly unfathomable. I was not very excited to see her, however she brought with her a gift in the form of my brother. I love my siblings; my relationship with them is one of the best parts of my life, and I would never trade them. My sister is absolutely tremendous. I wish I were more like her. My brother is hilarious and a total playa. He's cuter than I ever will be, and better with the ladies. ANYWAYS, my weekend was this. Instead of doing the thing that I want, I was forced instead to smile and show them the ins and outs of my campus and my new city. It wasn't too bad though, she did buy me a solid 3 meals and a sweatshirt. :)

The point is, after I watched the most terrible movie of my life (its called Gabriel, don't buy it, you will regret it) I came back to my room contemplating sleep. However, I realized that my weekend had been tragically UN-epic, so I decided to remedy the situation. Thus, this blog was birthed. "A collection of stories and memories from my out-of-this-world life, it shall be!", I decided. We'll Always Have Paris is about memories, and about understanding that life is hilarious. It is awkward, it is painful, it is not easy. However, if you are like me, taking on these challenges without fear and embodying the phrase, "when life gives you lemons, MAKE LEMONADE", you will find that your life has been worth living. That is what this blog is about, life, and specifically my part in it. Who wouldn't want to read that?