I was looking through a box of junk left over from college when I came across the very first column I ever wrote for our town’s local newspaper. At the start of my sophomore year, I was picked to write a weekly column about life as a college student. To this day, I have no idea why anyone, much less a newspaper editor, thought the greater Cleveland area would enjoy reading about my (mis)adventures, but the column somehow caught on and I continued writing it until midway through my junior year when Starlite began to really take off and I had to cut some other commitments in my life, including the column.

As I was reading back through my first column, I couldn’t help but laugh at how similar it sounds to the blog posts that I now write some six years later. I thought you might like to see what my “voice” sounded like back then, so have a little peek:

Fall break, the glorious two days that are given to well-deserving college students, has come and gone.

While most of my friends headed home (and some even to the beach!), I found myself heading towards the oral surgeon’s office. The reason for my visit? A lovely procedure called wisdom teeth removal.

Frankly, I dreaded the operation. Friends and family had told me horror stories of dry sockets, sleepless nights and, oddly enough, the loss of teeth that weren’t meant to be removed.

My mother and I arrived at the office before my appointment time and ended up having to wait an extra 45 minutes. This added time offered me a prime opportunity to think about all the negative things that could happen while under anesthesia. By the time the nurse came for me in the waiting room, I was wishing that I was younger and could have my mom hold my hand during the operation.

I shouldn’t have worried. Within about three seconds of receiving the anesthesia, I was out. In fact, I was out for the rest of the day. When I woke up the next morning, I expected pain. I was surprised to find that, although I was as swollen as a chipmunk, I wasn’t in pain.

Friends that called to check on me told me to wait; the promised that, as soon as I stopped taking pain medicine, I would have the pain that they had endured. But as I write this, a week after the operation, I’ve still not had any pain.

Oddly enough, not many people are quick to share my joy. Apparently, misery loves company.

The new Behavioral and Social Sciences building (now known as the Humanities Center) on Lee’s campus is being constructed quite quickly. I’ve kept a close eye on its progress since my dorm room directly faces the extremely loud construction site.

In related news, Atkins-Ellis Dorm female residents have quit setting their alarm clocks, instead relying on the sound of bulldozers to wake them each morning.

Apparently though, there are a few advantages to having construction workers right outside your door. Several girls report that they rate their appearance for the day by the number of whistles solicited from the building site. Anything less than three whistles merits a trip right back to their dorm room for a new outfit and hairstyle.

On a separate note, my friend Christan has found herself in a bit of a predicament. Two weeks ago, out of the kindness of her heart, she decided to fix dinner for ten of our mutual friends. Between playing with her new dog, eating a home-cooked meal and having a girls-only “spa party,” all involved had a fabulous time. Problem is, now everyone wants to go there for dinner each night of the week. It just goes to prove that a college student cannot live on Ramen Noodles alone.

Originally published in Bradley News Weekly on November 5, 2003.