All Good Things Come to an End

Everyone knows the common saying that "time flies when you're having fun". Heck, where did the past three years of my college life go!?!? I am kind of freaking out because I am in the last few days of being a junior...soon enough I am going to be married carrying a baby stroller around! I do not want to be a senior, that is just depressing!

This year has truly been one filled with so many amazing memories that have made the time continue to speed up! I had my 21st birthday, which I guess I don't technically remember, I lived in my first apartment ever and had a complete blast, I traveled to San Francisco and Colorado three times, and I have met so many amazing friends that have had a very good impact on my life. Is it normal that I am becoming nostalgic over my past few college years when I am still in college?

Another huge part of my life that is coming to an end is the show "Lost". After six amazing years of dedicating a whole night each week to watching the show, I have found myself so immersed in these characters' lives and their whereabouts. Why can't I be lost on an Island and not have to deal with the dilemmas of finding a job, not living with my parents, dealing with the gratitude of growing up, and having to find a husband? When this show comes to an end May 23rd, a whole chapter of my life will also be coming to an end. No more drooling over Desmond each week imagining him as my future husband. No more hoping Kate and Jack will finally elope after flirtations all these years. And no more continuously wishing that these characters will never make it off the island, in hopes that I can have a show for next year.

But I must realize that I need to move on. Just like all these fake characters move on from their parts, I need to embrace the life thats ahead of me and work towards having an optimistic view of things. Even though college is supposed to be your best years, who says you can't have fun afterwards? I just hope that the cruise to what it is I want to do is easy and will come to me eventually. But as of now, I must end this year with a smile and look back on it knowing that I made it out alive, and still have one more year to go!

The Importance of Teamwork in a Crucial Time

For those of you who have never been involved in the sorority life, Rush exists as a time when each sorority displays their house in hopes of gaining new members in the beginning of a school year. Over a thousand girls each year will go to all the 17 sorority houses at the University of Georgia and pick the house they admire the most.

Being in a predominately Jewish sorority (Sigma Delta Tau), we are completely lax when it comes to rush, always carrying the idea that if you are Jewish, you will join...so why work countless hours on cheers, songs, dances, chants and such when we can be laying out at the pool? Rush workshop is a brutal time period where we must learn every potential girls name over and over, practice beyond what anyone can imagine, and make ourselves as fake as we possibly can be, in order to seem appealing to all the freshman that come in.

When I went through Rush and traveled to each house, I was pretty appalled at the fakeness that each girl presented. They would smile tremendously and giggle at every little thing I had to say. Moreover, they would compliment me with the same compliments at each and every house: "I love your shoes", "Your dress is so cute", "You are just adorable! We would love to have you here!". I was SO over it. The only house that gave me a true real perspective and told me how it was was SDT.

A year later, it came time for me to be on the other side of things and be the one to be cheery and happy to all these girls. Needless to say, it was a miserable experience. We would spent 12 hour days a week before Rush chanting, memorizing, talking, dancing. As much as I wanted to skip it, I knew it was a $150 fine each day that I would miss. I trucked through the process, knowing that the next year I would have to get out of it some way.

And so I did. I got put as head of food committee, meaning that all I was responsible for was preparing/buying the food. No cheers, bubblyness, phonyness, nothing. While this seemed like a much better opportunity than the previous one, I still struggled with the whole Rush process and the artificial act that was given off to incoming Freshman.

So this year, I have planned to escape the Rush process by "getting my tonsils out". My other roommate has "an internship that lasts til the day school starts" and my third friend "is going on a family vacation that was planned a year ago". Needless to say, 30 out of the 40 girls in my pledge class have gotten out of Rush somehow.

At rush workshop this past Sunday, only eight girls showed up in my grade. While this number is quite shockingly low, it also pinpointed to the fact that all of us were denying a commitment that we needed to have; participating in Rush and gaining new members is the only way to have a future for SDT. Even though the Rush process truly sucks, I love the sorority and I would not want to jeopardize us not gaining any more members because none of the older girls failed to show up.

As upcoming seniors, we have the responsibility to be leaders and provide a good example of teamwork, and trucking through a time together that no one enjoys. I have decided to move my tonsil appointment up a few days and attend Rush, because through the thick and thin, I can't just think of myself when it comes to something I feel passionately about (the sorority). I hope that others will follow in my footsteps so we can show the next incoming freshman how truly awesome their senior girls are.

You Gotta Get Over Your Fears

Spring break always presents an exciting time for me; it is the one chance a year I get to go skiing with my family and get a break from the turmoil of school life. Every year me, my two sisters and my parents spend a week at our house in Steamboat Springs, Colorado. This year was especially beautiful; predicted whether of low 40's...what more can you ask for!
As the week approached, i was burdened by the news that my oldest sister Rachel would not be attending. She has been in and out of rehab for the past three years and once again had relapsed, so my parents felt it best to not have her come. However this news did not put me down. I was still persistent on having a fantastic time on the slopes and totally letting loose everything that I have been holding in.
The first two slopes we did were beautiful; the sun was shining, I was wearing only two layers of clothes, and everyone was in high spirits...until my dad tricked me into going on a side trail to a different slope. As I approached, I saw a double black diamond sign with the title "Hurricane" under it glaring right at me. Don't get me wrong, I have done Blacks before; But as I had not skied in a year, I was very rusty and unprepared for such a challenge. Even worse, the slope was ungroomed, meaning that it was extremely bumpy with moguls all over it.
I took a deep breath, nodded my head and went on my way, taking my sweet time and trying my best to have fun and not be scared. This was followed my an immediate fall on my butt. My sister Andrea laughed at me, my dad stopped to help me, and I got up still in semi-high spirits. I continued on for a little bit, trying to maintain control. It was then that my skis were falling in front of me and I could not gain any balance what so ever. I fell forward on my head, and instead of stopping like the first time, I toppled and summersaulted 20 feet down the mountain, unable to stop myself because the slope was so steep.
Upon stopping, my immediate reaction was to cry. I had snow built up all inside of my clothes, in my hair, my poles were missing up the mountain, and I felt completely at a loss and out of control. I was truly scared.
The rest of the trip proved more unsuccessful than I had hoped. After my traumatizing fall, I could not gain back the fluidity and carelessness that had always led me to be such a good free-spirited skier. I was constantly cautious, I avoided all blacks, and I truly felt myself holding back from what I knew I could do. Even up to the last slope on my last day, I was not skiing nearly to my potential.
Frustrated with myself on my travels home, I realized that you cannot keep in your fears and let them take control over you. A part of life is getting over the things that scare you and letting yourself move on. I wish I had this realization earlier so I could have enjoyed skiing much more. In all aspects of my life that I hold back, I am going to try my hardest to let myself go and not worry about what could be if I do happen to fall.