CIGARETTE SMOKE TWIRLED IN SMALL TENDRILS TOWARDS THE SKY as I walked through the campus today. Of course, it’s just my luck to unknowingly pick the smokers section to sit down and rest. I’d only walked fifty yards and yet it’s surprising just how heavy a backpack can seem after having my shoulders be free of it for the last four years. I sighed, picking up my weary body from my bench and plopping down on the grass, far away from those who actively wish for black lungs. Waiting for my class to start, with no materials for entertainment, I began to ponder all that I’d gathered in the past twenty-four hours about higher education.

You know, college had a stigma to me. And that stigma was exactly what you see in movies -  that you walk into a class, get totally and utterly lost in the coursework, pull a few late nighters, wreck your car, get robbed, and then go into class late without your assignment and get ridiculed. I imagined, to my horror, walking into a class full of 300 students and made to sing “I’m a Little Tea Pot” while the teacher wallops me repeatedly in the back of the head with a ruler.

It was nothing like that.

College is…unexplicable. It feels like high school, except nobody cares about status. Of course, there are still the obnoxious jocks, prissy California girls that only talk about the O.C., nerds with perfect glasses and well spoken retorts, surfer bums (in Utah? Oh yes. Wanna be surfers) that have hair longer than me and say “Heeey!” and “What’s UP dude?” like it is some secret surfers code, and then there is me.

Me. The first girl to class, the quiet one that walks with my head down to avoid having to make eye contact with everyone. The preppy that has all the books, and has the whole syllabus read before the teacher utters a single sound. Me, with my pink calculator and black notebooks and brightly colored highlighters.

Me, who all the sudden is realizing that I’m still the same person I used to be in high school. To my pleasant surprise, I can still ask a question, take notes, be on time. I can still memorize and analyze and hypothesize. I can still quote and retort and solve. I still have the potential to be the preppy with a 3.97 GPA. I’m just glad that I didn’t get placed back into Elementary all over again, as I’ve seen in my dreams over and over for the past few months.

The main difference from High School to College is that here I am on my own, 100%. And surprisingly? I’m okay with that.

Oh, and there’s that slight difference of me killing my out-fashioned bangs sometime between then and now. Remind me to show you a photo of them sometime, they are an absolute RIOT.

I PRAYED LAST NIGHT.

Hard.

I prayed for a few things. That college would go well, that I’d know which career route to take, that I’d know if the price is too high to pay, and that my tooth would stop hurting. I prayed for my sisters’ forgiveness for recent disagreements, although I refuse to ask for it. I prayed for confidence, strength, everything I don’t feel worthy of but selfishly ask for anyway.

And I realized.

I am loved.

And I am blessed.

I am blessed to be surrounded by many people who stand by my decision no matter what. I am blessed to have so many people who love me, who are so many shining examples to look up to. I am blessed to live in America, with the ability and means to provide for myself and create the type of person that I want to become.

I’m thankful.

So, so very thankful to each and every single one of you who has mentally, spiritually, emotionally and even physically helped me to pursue my dreams. You know who you are. Thank you from the bottom of my humble little heart. It is because of you that I was able to walk into college today – on D-day, my first day, the beginning of the end or the end of the beginning – with my head held high and a confident bounce in my step.

I’ve survived day one of college, and I’m not turning back.

THERE WAS ONE ACCIDENT at the derby that made all the cars stop. One driver experienced a door hit (which is against the rules and regulations. Basically, no door hits and no head on hits) and his helmet popped off and out the door, rendering him unconscious.

The announcer started screeching for all cars to hold their positions so they can help the poor driver. The car below, number 72, didn’t seem to hear the call to halt and just kept on going.

So there he is, in the middle of the arena as everyone yells STOP! and he just plows on ahead, ramming into the back of one car and backing into the front of another.

I was wondering if in his mind, he was like “Sweet! Everyone’s stopped, I win!!”

The car he backed into, number 70, had so much damage done that we wondered if his car would even work. Thankfully it did.

Everyone was raging mad at number 72 while he kept plowing into other stopped cars. He hit the gas, spun his tires and aimed his car right at the car with the unresponsive driver. This is when the firemen jumped the berm and risked their lives to jump in the delinquent drivers path. They waved their flags, they shouted, they jumped up and down. Finally, the idiotic number 72 figured out that he was supposed to stop.

I was just waiting for the crowd to jump out in hordes and attack him like a swarm of angry bees.

Once the car was stopped, the EMT’s and fire crew were able to access the situation and help the driver.

Everyone waited with bated breath, hoping that the driver was okay.

More trucks came.

And the Jaws of Life were put into use. After twenty tense minutes, the roof was peeled back off the car and the driver was given a full check up.

And he was fine!

All credits given to the firefighters that put their lives on the line to dive out and protect his car.

And the car was towed out, the games continued and all was well.

OH BOY. Did I ever laugh when I found these charts, and I’ve been laughing ever since. They remind me of a few years ago when I got my tonsils out,  and I’d explain it to little kids as “we’re not friends anymore. They’re not nice to me so we have to get them removed”.

It was easier than saying that my best chick friend in high school gave me tonsillitis (yes. I am still bitter about that) and that the subsequent infections and tonsil stones were just too much to deal with.

These charts have quick funnies that anyone could laugh at. My favorites are the spleen and the pancreas. Which ones did you enjoy?