College is hard. Not because of the work, but because of the way it thrusts you into the whirlwind of discovering your path for life and embracing it. So far it's been a long road since my first day as a freshman. Here's what I can recall:
I chose to attend UNT for their awesome music program, primarily focusing on Jazz. Having no prior knowledge of music coming into my first year I was petrified, but I love to sing and it's what I want to do with my life, so, I was willing. My first semester was hard. The first 5 or 6 weeks I cried every single night because of the anxiety that comes along with fearing failure and the lack of friendships. If you don't know this already then let me inform you- as a music major at UNT, if you're not completely immersed in the Jazz scene or any organization, finding worthwhile friends is hard. You barely have any time to make them so how are you supposed to cope with all of the pressure? Well, my refuge is God, thankfully, but when I sometimes forget that he's by my side, trust me, the walls do tumble. I was also at a loss for a roommate my whole first year so I was always alone in my room. Which is a VERY poor situation to be in. Those of you who long for a room of your own, stop. Be so very grateful for that annoying person sleeping 5 feet away from you. I mean it.
Thankfully, I never failed any courses that first semester, actually, I believe I ended that semester with a 3.8 GPA, or something like that. And after those first rough weeks I got a hold of myself enough to begin to cope with all of my stresses. Then they let us out for break. Finally!
After break I returned for a new semester, again, without the roommate. This semester though, I had a few new friends to spend those times with when I had a much needed break. They were awesome people. Very funny and all of the different from each other. Spring of 2010 was a pretty solid semester minus a few bumps in the road due to my lack of focus on school and the distraction of the ever-so wonderful, male gender. I gigged with a good friend and pianist, Patrick, a few times which proved to be most educational in the ways of music and business. And in the process of growing through the last few months of the semester, I met my friend Bryan, who is now the leader of my band!
Summer came, bringing my first summer class, History. I've never learned or remember more about history in my life than when I attended that class. During June, while taking the summer course, I began working with Bryan to compose and arrange music for the band he wished to put together. In July I had my first job as the TA at a Jazz Camp in Oklahoma. I'm returning this summer to be promoted from TA to "personal assistant to the director" (: Who knows how much importance this truly holds, but I'm very excited to be surrounded by young kids so eager to learn about jazz. When all you know is the arrogant musicians, humility is like the water you crave after being stranded in the desert for 40 days. I was meant to be around children.
Summer ended and then came sophomore year.
Fall 2010. What joy you brought me. What anxiety you make me endure. School this semester was probably the most challenging I've faced. Fundamentals II and Jazz Aural combined into the same semester for someone who requires much studying was a task, to say the least. In addition to the difficult classes, nodules on my vocal chords were found just in time to keep me from performing my end-of-the-semester jury. Then I had the personal drama, mess, whatever you may call it. The Boy. The disaster who never thought before he took my feelings for a month then crushed them during finals week. How thoughtful of him. The problem was, that after 6 years of not being in a relationship and finally liking someone enough to be okay with it, then having your heart broken because they didn't care enough and never thought carefully about the situation they were entering into, it hurt. Bad. Nevertheless, I somehow got through those finals minus major injuries. And winter break came. Two weeks into break, I got the loving text message of "what we had was simply a crush and I'm talking to someone else, sorry". Needless to say I haven't spoken to it since and I don't plan to.
Now I sit here, survivor of the first week of the second semester of my sophomore year of college. I'm pumped about this semester. I truly am. I have no inclination to give my heart to anyone right now. I've been performing at shows with my band and I think this semester is the perfect time to focus on my life and my career. After all, it's what I'm in school for and shouldn't I be focusing on school? Focusing on anything else has proved fruitless. Yes, I'm pumped about it. Although, I am virtually out of a core group of friends. Those who I spent my time have moved off to apartments or other dorms and have roommates whom they spend their time with. Most of the time being focused on something helps. Most of the time.
These are my thoughts. I simply want them out of my head so I can feel like I've told someone. And I guess I have.
I'll continue trying to discover myself. Praying always.
'There is actually One who is standing beside me. A formidable adversary who you simply cannot see.'
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