TCU wonders

I would have like to see a transition of seasons from summer to fall. I adore it when the leaves change from green to yellows and oranges and drift amidst a thriving college campus. Perhaps this time I can let go of these childish fantasies and come to realization that the South is at a lack of seasonal changes. While I do love the campus itself, I wish for it to be located elsewhere with scenic modifications. Maybe a place with mountains instead of mounds and winter attire instead of Ugg boots and jean skirts. Or maybe I should recognize the "maybe's" in my statements and stick to the reality of before summer, summer, and after summer periods.



But before I jump to any conclusions, I realize that my surroundings are beyond what may be considered mediocre. Anyone who has been to the campus has taken notice of the castle-like structures and constantly evolving archetecture that adds instant beauty to the campus appeal. Even in the heat of the day, the structures take my eyes captive.



And yet it's hard to ignore the money signs that walk beside me. It bothers me at times to see such little regard for money...and with me who lives the typical college kid life of coupons and no income. Can't mommy and daddy's checkbooks be forgotten for 4 short years? In this realm I am an outcast.

Purple dresses engulfing the stadium at game time revolts me entirely.

One may realize the benefits in seeing those familiar faces in a place that was once so full of the new and unexpected. I cannot seem to emphasize the importance of maintaining a name and a face rather than a meaningless number in the crowd when it came to choosing a college. Making friends at a new campus is inevitable, but being able to spot faces and friends on such a wide path of future leaders and ambitions is a priceless occasion.

The life of a Greek has spoken to me through rumors, movies, and tv shows of hazing rituals, stuck up rich snobs and the effects of daddy's money. I have yet to oberve it in its entirety, however, the pressure to change and become another faceless stereotype rides on my back every time I walk through the door. To my surprise there are those who similarly wish to exceed beyond thise cliches and gain a greater network of friends in such a new and vulnurable year of our lives. Yet the jingle of checkbooks instead of change will be a sound that I will never adapt to.

But what is there to say when one runs out of dresses to wear? I cannot reverse a life of jeans and sweatpants.

Although a wardrobe of purple does fit me nicely. A spirit that was once of burnt orange has faded into a violet catastrophe in my closet. And who is one to say that a horned frog isn't intimidating? Once they catch a glance of super frog's bulging biceps and shoulders, they may reconsider their assumption.

Overall this new style of living suites me to no end. The Milton Hilton has become my home, or as close to what a home can be without family. Sleep has been moved to the bottom of my priorities list, yet it has inspired me to see so many lives of the dorm to be proceeding the same way that mine is. The always available cookies in the BLUU has quickly become a friend and an enemy but always something to look forward to at the end of the day.

I can see clearly through the purple haze.



-KurFez