Mount Pleasant is one of those places that wears fall well: the red- and orange dyed trees, the rain-soaked streets, the pines that appear greener, piles of hay by the farms near the highway, the vast yellow and brown fields, the crumbled leaves on the grass. It’s such a beautiful period of the year. Too short also if you ask me; fall is my muse. Not to mention that cider mills and corn mazes break out over the area, along with the new cinnamon and pumpkin spiced items on the coffee menus. Then you get to wear scarves and boots and long coats.
The aftertaste of summer still resides in the southern part of Michigan. As an autumn woman, it feels like traveling back in time, similar to visiting the parents over the weekend, which is a somewhat weird experience you never get used to. Even if you’ve gone to college for three years. It somehow stopped being “my” house once I started living in the dorms and now I feel more like a very welcomed guest. I suppose I could explain this concept in more detail, but the reasons behind my reasoning are largely personal. What I mean is that when you switch from complete independence to returning to your roots every now and then throughout the year, you find yourself in a middle stage where you’re someone’s kid and they expect you to follow the rules under their roof. At the same time, they expect you to take off at some point and see what those wings are for.
This semester is fascinating, because it’s my last fall here in Mount Pleasant. Unless I do decide to teach English courses, then I wouldn’t mind coming back – but only when I’m older and after I’ve had my fair share of adventures. Anyway, another fascinating aspect is the fact that I’m taking six courses, working part-time and meeting with people who are helping me figuring out post-graduation. It’s a testing time as I do my best managing my assignments, sleep hours, moments to eat, and most importantly, moments to talk and laugh with friends. I find it so pleasantly surprising that I handle it with such optimism; the naive girl who moved into the Towers three years ago would have had an emotional breakdown weeks ago.
College is in a way an intellectual bootcamp. A few things I’ve realized recently is that I’ve conquered several issues I carried with me from high school: fragile self-esteem, stage fright, an unpredictable stutter and fear of talking to strangers. Since freshman year – through risks, success and failure – I have beaten those four opponents and I have never felt so free. I have found my voice. I have grown in character. I have become more politically aware. I have improved my writing and I have a clear sense about my career prospects. No matter how difficult this semester will be, which I surely as hell know it will be, it feels damn good knowing that I can accomplish anything I put my mind to.
So wherever I’m going to find myself next fall, it will be just as exciting and challenging as college; probably even better.
Extra message for followers:
I’ve been silent on this blog for a long time, partially because it hasn’t been as apparent to me anymore what I should discuss with the world and partially because I don’t have a clue how much I should open up on cyberspace. I’ve used Twitter and my Facebook page a lot more for short commentary on news and stuff, however, in regards to this blog, which exists for longer messages, I haven’t made up my mind on its purpose.
I used to share personal matters that might be relevant or even helpful for others; I used to talk about things that amused me or made me angry; I used it for my journalism class to comment on worldly events and current issues. The only thing of interest left is talking about my novel, its progress and my potential writing career. I want to do more, though. To those who read my posts and who have checked back these past months, I would like to say thank you. For giving me your time and for listening (well, reading).