By the numbers

I haven't taken a math class since my junior year of high school and oh, how lovely that has been. Numbers aren't my thing. Nonetheless, I have utilized them to GREAT EFFECT in this entry, painting a glorious and nuanced numerical picture of my tenure at this institution.

Not really.

But here you go, anyway:

I am in the fourth week of my second year at Oberlin. I am 155-some miles away from my hometown in Michigan. I will catch a ride home this weekend with my friend Charlotte, just in time for my little sister's 13th (?!) birthday. It will take us approximately 2.25 hours to arrive at the University of Michigan School of Music. This is because Charlotte has selective vision and has never seen Ohio's speed limit signs (a prohibitively slow 65 miles per hour).

I am taking seventeen credits this semester and I think they're all great. Yes, I am even enjoying my theory classes! My token college class of the semester is Introduction to Linguistic Anthropology (I started out in that class as No. 8 on the waitlist and I got in - let that be a lesson to me and perhaps someone else that persistence does pay off when you're trying to get into a full class at the beginning of a semester). It's awesome. I am working quite a lot of hours a week at five different jobs (I am a dance accompanist like Will, except whereas I play an endless stream of waltzes for the intro ballet class, he probably does something a little more abstract and a little less schmaltzy for the modern classes. I also work in the music library, make Shabbat dessert, write this blog!, and teach at a nearby community music school). I am a terribly inconsistent practicer, but my semester goal is to practice piano at least three hours EVERY DAY (that every day part is key). I am also playing cello in a quartet (including me, that's four people!), which is nice. I enjoy pretending I still know how to hold a bow and play in tune.

I still love and live in J-House, but have moved to the second floor. My room is approximately seventeen times as large as a typical dorm room and the ceilings are five times as high. I do not exaggerate. I have six windows (for real). Thirty-nine paces (give or take) to the east bring me to the door of Old B. I'm not completely certain, but I think the B might stand for Best Co-op Ever. I am probably incapable of going an entry without mentioning my co-oping obsession.

I have one bike with me at school and it is currently sitting outside with the chain off the pedal sprocket. I fiddled with it for a bit last week but haven't fixed it yet. I am a bit incompetent. In the meantime, I have two feet which I find are totally adequate for walking everywhere. It takes about seven minutes walking at a healthy clip to get to the conservatory. I pass many beautiful trees on the way, some of whose leaves are turning color (it's officially Autumn!). When I return to my room in the evening, the long grass and wildflowers next to J-House glow in the setting sunlight. And I sit outside, look up at the sky, daydream, and think about what a wonderful place this is.