The CSSSA Reports 1

After four days of figuring out the tangled web of dorm life and cafeteria lines and two teachers and lots of writing homework (hence the dearth of blog posts) and getting to know my three roommates, I can safely say that CSSSA is not as bad as the two "policewomen" of the place made it seem. (It's just that the campus life sucks compared to Stanford's.) So far, despite art school's reputation for being pretty dopey, I have not seen any drug use or even heard of it. The food's pretty good, and changes every day, though if you don't like the day's main course you're basically screwed (not much variety in a single meal). At first I think I wasn't eating enough vegetables or something - my mouth felt weird. Tonight I accidentally ate a vegan meal, chili beans and brown rice with sauteed vegetables and vegetable soup, and now I feel great. I love chili. Yesterday two of my roommates (one in Creative Writing with me, the other in Visual Arts - the third is in Film and already has friends in CSSSA, so she's out a lot and I haven't gotten to talk to her as much) and I ordered Thai food delivered, mainly because they both suddenly craved boba tea for whatever reason, and also because none of us had done this before and we wanted to try. That curry was good. Made me happy. Yum.

Crap the lights are out, I have to go to bed soon and I still have work to do. Uhhhhh today there was a faculty reading, basically our four Creative Writing teachers got on stage and read examples of their work aloud. I really wish I had the poet and department chair as a teacher - she was fucking brilliant (sorry cuss words proliferate a great deal around here) and hilarious as hell. My two teachers are also very good though - both playwrights/screenwrights, as it seems CSSSA has a pretty big emphasis on the film industry. It's why the school was built in the first place, according to the handbook. The fourth teacher, the short story writer, he told a story about a father and his daughter and his inability to connect with her because they lived apart, even though he loved her a lot; and for whatever reason I started to cry and I wanted to talk to my dad and make sure he knew I loved him and I really really missed him. So after, as I was walking back from the reading to my dorm, I called my parents up and then started bawling like a baby as I tried to say, "Hi Daddy." My mom is probably reading this, though, haha - I love her too. I have such a great family. In my memoir class, I realized what a perfect life I've had: loving, stable family, great grades to compliment a great education, never ever had to worry about money. This is probably where all my problems come from, oddly enough. In my lack of problems. I'm gradually learning how to make use of my advantages though - there was a speech my older sister showed me that dealt with this too. Later when the lights are on I'll post the link. 'Night.