So that time of year is creeping up on us. The time when we must throw some clothes into duffel, fill the rest of the bag with dirty laundry, kiss our roommate and our bottle of vodka goodbye, and head home for fall break.

Yes, there are many up-sides to this little trip: we get a break from all the homework, we get to eat something other then cafeteria mystery meat for a change, and we get to curl up with Scruffy on the couch for a couple of days.

But with the comfort of being home comes a few downers as well. And I’m not talking about being woken up at 9am on a Saturday or having to empty the dishwasher. It’s those little comments from mom and dad that really get under your skin. And no matter how hard you try to be nice, you just can’t help but snap, say something mean and beeline to the car/airport (clean clothes and leftovers in hand, obvi) as soon as humanly possible.

Here are a few of the worst offenders:

“Honey, your pants look a little tight”
Yes mom, I realize that drinking 5 days out of the week and eating delivery pizza has done a number on my waistline. Am I happy about it? No. Do I know it is there? Yes. Is it helping that you pinch the muffin top and poke the underarm flab? Absolutely not!

“Have you found a nice boy yet?”
If by “nice” you mean “a tall pre-med student who considers hanging out in the library fun,” then no, dad, I have not found your ideal son-in-law quite yet. But I have hooked up with a couple of the guys on the football team who can barely form coherent sentences but have 8-pack stomachs you can bounce a quarter off of, if that counts for anything. Read More »

I remember crying as I packed for college a gazillion years ago and freaking out that I would never really be coming home again in the same way. But, the second I got home for Thanksgiving break, I realized exactly how wrong I was about that. My house was just as I left it (minus a few things my sister borrowed, stretched out, and left in the trunk of the car) and despite being insanely more educated, my family didn’t treat me any differently. I still fought with my sister over the remote (The Nanny reruns, really?), I still was expected to help with the dishes (ugh), and I still had to tell my mom in excruciating detail where I was going when I left the house.

However this past June when I left to go to New York I went through the exact same emotions, overly dramatic arm flailing and unattractive tears galore as I packed up. And once again, I proved myself wrong. I went home this past week to take a break from adult responsibilities, such as job hunting and obsessively updating my Linkedin and I discovered that still nothing changed. Read More »

Study hard, play hard – right? College is a major balancing act. It’s delegating what needs to get done and when, setting priorities and holding yourself to deadlines. And after a long week of working hard (attending class, writing papers, and staying ahead in the reading, just to name a few tasks), it is no wonder that college students have a reputation of wanting to party.

No one should be expected to sit in the library or stare at their dorm room walls every day of the week with their nose in a book. Everyone needs something that helps them unwind, especially on the weekends.

Sometimes finding something to do – especially on a campus where parties are a rare occasion -  is hard. I knew when I signed my life away as a Hollins woman, I was going to be living in Roanoke, Virginia,and that I wouldn’t have a big city as my playground on the weekend. I knew I wasn’t attending a huge state school where fraternity parties are the social factor and that club activities would be endless. As a prospective, I remember asking about the student life on the weekends only to hear the same fib that my fellow peers heard themselves as prospective students: “Don’t worry about it, you will always find something going on.”

Oh, but that is very far from the truth. Options on campus are very bleak. From the first weekend as a first year, I realized as no one was around on the weekends I would have to be entirely responsible for finding something to do Friday and Saturday nights. While not feeling bogged down by having too many social activities planned, I like that Hollins has a sleepy atmosphere (especially for those weekends I need to do a lot of work), but for the most part – I don’t understand why we can’t have some sort of decent entertainment when the weekend rolls around.

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So you’ve finished your first year of college! You’re relieved, excited, and filled with pride (hopefully) at your academic accomplishment. You say goodbye to your friends at school, and make the journey home.

For me, that journey home was pretty long: 1330.45 miles, if we’re being exact. And after two weeks at home, and that initial joyful reunion with my friends from high school, I am suffering from a major case of reverse homesickness.

During my first semester of school, all I wanted to do was go back to Florida, transfer to a school where academics are often neglected for tanning and water sports, despite the fact that I had come to Boston to get away from such a scenario. Nonetheless, I was ready to throw in the towel and head back home.

Second semester, however, I really began to find my footing at school, and I had a wonderful time. I did well in all my classes, fell into a groove that enabled me to balance my academic goals with some semblance of a social life, and participated in our school’s spring musical. My last night in Boston was the night of our cast party, which was not short on the debauchery or tearful goodbyes.

Suffice it to say, when I arrived home, I was feeling a little morose. I wasn’t going to see anyone from Boston until September! And now, as a couple weeks have passed and it’s getting stiflingly hot here, I miss Boston and my school friends like nobody’s business. I’ve even come to miss the simplicity of my tiny freshman double, the greasy food at our dining hall, even the drunken frat boys screaming outside my window at 3 in the morning on a Thursday night…I could go on, but I’ll spare you.

So, partly for my sanity, and partly for yours, I’m come up with a few ways to avoid, or at least diminish, that reverse homesickness. Read More »