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Thứ Năm, 10 tháng 3, 2011

For students in Art programs like me, exam is not a bad time. However, now is. March is the period of essays, papers, presentations and the like. We don’t usually have exams, just staying home writing papers. Yes, just that. Somehow my mom can’t ever get through the idea that not going to exam can be as stressful and tiring as the other option.

Anyhow, yesterday’s weather was extremely sad and depressing, snowy, gloomy, windy, dirty, muddy and wet. It was a pain even to go outside, wait for the bus in the wet snow, get wet all over from head to toes. But a good way to pass the time in such weather, that I haven’t known before, is to hang out with your classmates in a café, discuss your professors, their pros and cons, watch the snow swirling outside the window, with a soy latte added cinnamon powder.

I’ve never had the pleasure of discussing my professors with friends, simply because I don’t hang out with classmates, and those Im close to major in different departments. I’ve always been jealous (well, kind of) when I have to sit in silence and watch my friends having a lively conversation about this and that prof, such a pastime they apparently enjoy so much. That’s possible because they are in the same program, mostly Computer science, Math and Economics. Even those who are in Arts like me major in different disciplines, and I just can’t talk with them about what Im studying.

I just never know that it can feel so good to be able to talk about what you are thinking, how you are doing, 
 to be reassured that Im not the only one who feels a little lost in this class, or to be secretly pleased that I’ve done well in an essay most people failed miserably, to laugh and know that this prof doesn’t like me only, he doesn’t like any student. That’s what they call “the power of sharing”, I guess.

I’ve never been “friend”, in a true and meaningful sense of the word, with any of my classmate, and I have come to accept it as a matter of fact which no longer bothers me. I’ve stopped for a long time my effort in getting close to people who I see a few hours every week. All of sudden, in a snowy day, as I sat in a cozy corner in a café so empty I could only hear us talking and laughing, I realized I have missed so much a part of student life.

Next time, if there is a “next time”, I’ll do better.

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