Empowered

This Sunday I joined Weight Watchers again. College hasn’t been very nice to me, so it’s time to take control. I give the credit to my friend Victoria—Vic for short. I texted her Saturday morning to get lunch, and she said she couldn’t because she was at the gym. I just sat there and thought that that’s where I should be. So I put on my tennis shoes and joined her.

I hoped on the elliptical next to her in the empty gym and started my 30-minute work out. Afterward, she showed me the “magicalness” of the gym that I had never found. I was a little intimidated by the weight machines to try them on my own, but Vic showed me the ones she did and we did them together.

She also showed me the scale. The dreaded enemy. The second I stepped on it, I knew it was time to do something. So the next day I joined Weight Watchers online. It’s really cool how interactive it is. You can search for food and it automatically has the points value. You can keep a chart of your weight loss and see averages and what not.

I’m really into it. I’ve never actually wanted to go to the gym. But yesterday when I couldn’t go, I honestly missed it. I’ve pretended that I like going before and kind of sneered at people who say they like it. But it is official…I enjoy going to the gym!

So I’ve already seen results already and I’m definitely making conscious choices to eat better. I like making good changes for myself and it’s nice to finally be in control. I finally understand what people mean.

3 Parts of Me

Being in college is a little weird. For four years (well for most people, it’s 4) you’re living this life that’s divided into different parts. Think about it, for 4 months, you live at home, and for the other 8 months you’re at school.

So one part of me still lives at home with my mom. I go to work a few days out of the week, and the only other person I hang out with besides coworkers is my best friend Haley. I didn’t really stay in touch with people from high school, so all the people that I used to see on a daily basis, I only see their Facebook status updates. Going home is a little weird. Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing my parents and being in my own room in my own house. But it’s not where I am anymore. I spend more time at college than there, and with each year I feel like I’m getting farther and farther away from that life.

But then at college, there are still different parts of me. I have my own room as a Resident Assistant and a hall of great girls. This year I’ve met some of the most amazing people and I know that this is where I’m meant to be. I have a lot of responsibilities here, whether it has to do with schoolwork, helping a resident, or programming with my staff. There’s always something for me to do. But I love to be busy—so it’s great for me.

The other part of me is when I visit my boyfriend Jeff. He’s only a two hour car ride, so it’s easy to drive up to see him when the weather’s nice enough to let me. It’s like a mini vacation whenever I go up to Massachusetts. I try not to take any work with me, because I never get it done there anyway. And it’s just a break from everything school related. It’s hard that we only get to see each other maybe twice a month though.

The challenge is trying to make all these parts of me co-exist. Right now, I feel most grounded when I’m at school going about my normal routine. It’s when I step out of this that things get a little hard to manage. I’ll be home and want nothing more than to have things to do and be busy like I am at school. Or I’ll be at Jeff’s and wish that he could live a little closer to make it easier to have a relationship. It’s a weird time in my life, nothing can really prepare you for college until you’re actually there living it.

Being Juror #5 (Final Part)

Deliberation was a very unique process in itself. We were all basically strangers and the first thing we had to do was pick a foreman. We all sat around looking at someone else hoping they would step forward. After that bit of housekeeping was done. We went through everything about the trial. Since we weren’t allowed discuss the trial with anyone until a verdict was reached, it was such a relief to talk about it with others who experienced it with you.

On the third day, we decided to vote on the first count early in the morning. Someone collected all the folded pieces of paper and read it out loud.

Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty.

It felt like my body got heavier with each word.

Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty.

I tried not to make eye contact with anyone.

Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty.

It was official. Guilty on count 1. Everyone breathed a sigh. A sigh of what, I’m not sure. On to the next decision. This one took longer.

We had to have the court reporter come in the room and read to us a section of the trial. She fascinated me. I watched her throughout the trial, typing silently on her special keyboard. I had to ask her how she did it. She explained that she taught the computer everything it knows. It’s based on syllables instead of words, and that for every trial she sets new commands into it. Well, after she left, we talked a bit longer. And voted for the second count.

This time there was one not guilty. 5 more minutes of deliberation changed their mind. We called the bailiff to tell him we had reached a verdict on both counts and after a little bit more waiting, we were called into the courtroom. Within ten more minutes, the defendant heard the live changing word: “guilty”. The jurors were dismissed and left the room to go back to the regular routine of their normal lives. The defendant returned to some jail cell to be sentenced later on. I’m not sure how long he was sentenced for, but it doesn’t matter because I did my part of civic duty.