The Marvelous Adventures of Team Indecisive, Part 1 of How Ever Many I Want Because This is My Blog

While I was doing my undergrad, I had the opportunity to meet [more than] two of the most incredible girls in the world. I’ve never really had super close female friends, because I grew up in a super judgy small town and apparently fat girls don’t look cute in prom pictures. But the first day I moved into the dorms at the University of Oklahoma, all of that changed. Literally within hours.

I lived on the international floor, or as they called it, the “Global Community.” The premise was that they would pair one international student into a dorm room with one American student, and they would teach each other about their cultures and traditions and all that happy camp nonsense. Really what happened was that half the girls were Chinese and half the boys were Saudi, and they all hung out in their own cliques because they all went to high school together. The first semester I didn’t have a roommate, which was awesome because I got my own room without paying for a single and I had never shared a room before in my life.

Okay. Where was I? Right. Move in day. My mom and I had shipped as much of my stuff as I could to a family friend’s house in Edmond, and flew to Oklahoma, so on move in day we loaded up the rental car and headed down to Norman. We found a parking spot in the buttcrack of nowhere because it was move in day for ALL the freshman and there were about eleven billion of us. It was also a thousand and a half degrees out because it was Oklahoma in August, and as my mom and I contemplated exactly how  we were getting all of my things from the car (in the buttcrack of nowhere) to my fourth floor dorm, I just grabbed a bag and dragged it across the parking lot. Some time later, as I was able to squeeze into an elevator to get upstairs, I was standing in my empty dorm room, a blonde head popped through my door way and chirped “Do you need help?”

That blonde head was attached to Caitlin, one of the sweetest girls in the world. She was a sophomore, so had already moved in, and she and her friends from the Baptist Student Union (more on that later) were going down the hall asking if the freshmen needed help. I blearily nodded yes, and she and her friends followed me and my mom back out to the car (in the buttcrack of nowhere), and managed to bring all my things into the dorms in one trip. It was awesome. As I was unpacking, another little (I say little, but really she’s my height. We’re all little.) blonde girl wandered down the hall to shyly say hello. This was Anna, and we have been talking on Facebook for the past few weeks in the group our RAs had made for us to get to know each other. We quietly said hello, and went back to unpacking.

Later that evening, Anna messaged me and asked if I wanted to go get dinner at the caf, since neither of us knew how our meal plans worked. I said sure, and then she asked if her roommate, Kat, could come. I said sure again, and the three of us wandered off in search of food.

We spent three hours in the caf that evening, because we could not stop talking. Kat told us about the years she had lived in the Philippines, and then about her four younger sisters. I’m pretty sure we were all best friends by the time we were shooed out by the staff.

Even though our majors were different, we were ALWAYS together. To the point where if someone saw two of us, they’d look around for the third. Anna and I ended up living together the next year, in an apartment, and then Kat joined us the next year, along with Kelly, who lived across from Kat and Anna in the dorms. The four of us went on marvelous adventures, and then I graduated. Even after graduation, I’m still close to these girls. Kat is one of the first people I turn to when I have rough decisions to make, and as a result I’ve been setting off her phone to an obnoxious extent these past few weeks. I couldn’t imagine my life without them, and even though we’ve only known each other for three and a half years, I know I’m going to be friends with them for life.

ps: Caitlin initially called us Team Indecisive because we could never make decisions about what we wanted to do. And we ran with it. I made a Facebook group and everything.


That Time I Got Kicked Out of Law School

Two weeks ago today, I packed up my little car and drove six foggy hours on the Pennsylvania Turnpike to get back to Baltimore in time for the Spring semester of my 1L year. The first semester had been more than tough. I had been dealing with constantly changing dosages of happy pills, and my dad had told me he and my stepmother were divorcing right at the end of Thanksgiving break, and as a result of all this stress and tension that had been building up from this awful semester, I did not do as well on my finals as I had been expecting to. But I definitely did not expect a curt email from the Associate Dean’s office in my inbox on Sunday afternoon telling me that my GPA was .939, which was not enough to continue for the spring semester. If I wanted to appeal their decision (which had already been made) I could petition them to give me a hearing.

First of all, who does that?! They wait until the day before class starts, when I’ve paid my tuition and bought all my books, and send an email out at 3pm on a Sunday telling me they’re dismissing me, and then NOBODY ANSWERS THEIR PHONES. Granted, in my sheer panic I may have left too many missed calls and frantic email messages, but let’s be real, panic. Secondly, I think they might have timed this out on purpose, so I couldn’t get them on the phone and babble at them in a variety of languages.

So I drafted a letter explaining all the issues I had had the previous semester, got a letter from my psychiatrist explaining the bit about my medication, and sent it all in the first chance I got. Which was Monday. I also spent Monday morning camped out in the Dean’s suite, waiting for the woman whose name had been tacked onto the dismissal email. She finally waltzed into her office at 10:30, and promptly told me that she didn’t know what I should do now, that she did not have all the answers, and her job was to send emails.

Fuck that shit.

Having found no answers in the Dean’s suite, I went up to the Academic Support office, where the awful woman with cold dead fish eyes and bangs from the nineties told me it was “a shame we’re meeting under such circumstances.” This woman was a gem. And by gem I mean useless waste of time. She essentially told me that I should just drop my petition and forget about law school because I wasn’t cut out for it. Bitch please. I am fucking brilliant. Don’t even get me started on how goddamn brilliant I am. You were lucky to have me. Sensing I was getting no help or sympathy from her, I called my parents. Mom was all on the “Okay let’s figure out your other options let’s take more tests and apply to more schools” train, while Dad was “Fuck these fuckers they don’t deserve you anyway.” Both supportive in their own way. My aunt however, called hysterically a couple times telling me “Calm down. Just calm down. You NEED to CALM DOWN.” I think she was more freaked out than I was. I kept going to classes, on the off chance that they wouldn’t dismiss me, and by Tuesday I got another curt email telling me when my hearing was.

The hearing itself was comical in how they tried intimidating me. They put me in a windowless room, at one end of a long table, with the Academic Review Committee on the other end. Very adversarial (I learned that word in undergrad, FYI). I explained why the semester was an anomaly (I had straight AP classes through high school, finished my Bachelors in three years, and had a $10,000-a-year grant to THIS FUCKING SCHOOL), and how I had already made plans to improve my grades. They weren’t very interested, and ten minutes later said they had all the information they needed and that they would email me a decision shortly.

Shortly meant Thursday, right after I sat through another Contracts II class. They dismissed me. I walked back to my apartment in a fog, called my mom and then my dad, and started packing. I couldn’t leave that night because I was more than a little emotionally compromised, and had so much shit left to do. I packed up three big bins, two suitcases, and four reusable shopping bags, and then I fell asleep. I put everything into my car, and almost a week after I had gotten there, headed back through Pennsylvania because I just could not be in Baltimore any longer.

What I realized during the six hours it took me to get back to Ohio was that no matter how much schools or other institutions preach about how they’re a family and will do anything for their students, that just is not true. It’s not feasible. They can’t reach out to everyone and make sure they’re okay. And when you’re most decidedly not okay, it’ll show up in your grades, even though you think you’re strong and can handle everyone else’s problems. And when you’re not strong enough to put out the grades they can publish, to brag to all the other schools that their students are the smartest, they drop you. They cut ties and every email you send asking about what you’re supposed to do next is ignored for a few days and then gets an impatient reply. They won’t stand by you when you’re down. So don’t expect them to.