I have been living in my apartment in New York City for a week now.
It doesn't feel like that long.
Unless I think about it harder, and then it feels like ages since I've seen my friends and family or ridden in a car or seen a Freddy's or slept in my bed.
But most of the time, it feels like it's only been a couple of days, and everything is still new and fresh and exciting.
I can ride the subway! I can hear protests right outside the building during class! I can walk past Alexander Hamilton's grave every day on the way to school! I can eat whatever I want! I can randomly go to the MET! (I haven't yet, but I can!) I can go to Central Park to study!
It's weird. Wonderful, but weird.
Sometimes it doesn't feel real. It doesn't feel real that I can pop over to Brooklyn for grocery shopping. That I live 1, 385.5 miles away from almost everyone I know. That I can pop over to Battery Park because it's just around the corner.
And other times, I'm carrying toilet paper down Washington Street, and it all feels totally normal. This is life, just in a different city. Life, just with different people.
Meeting people is weird. Trying to make friends can be hard, and I so, so grateful for the House system at King's. I'm grateful for the girls in Barton who will invite me over for cupcakes or just to hang out, who will come over and eat pasta on our floor because there aren't any chairs, for roommates who will teach me how to cook chicken and go grocery shopping with me and help me out when my debit card gets rejected. I'm soooo grateful for phone calls and skype so I can talk to my people back home. I'm grateful for the opportunities to jump right in and get to know kids and professors. I'm grateful for the list of churches and who goes to them so I can start looking for a church to invest in right away. I'm grateful for the first Refuge meeting, and for Eric Bennett for challenging us, and for friends who will already hold me accountable. I am grateful for the amount of freedom and responsibility given to King's students. I am grateful for the Honor Code and the fact that people do take it so seriously and will drill it into our heads.
I cried today -- actually, I've probably cried every day for various reasons: Mom and Dad left, I opened Mom and Dad's card, Ellen said she got to hug Holly, I watched the Priceless movie trailer, I watched Avatar, I watched a So You Think You Can Dance video, I listened to "Sunrise" from In the Heights, etc. I'm someone who cries at most things, really.
But anyway, today stands out because Laura -- who I have officially known for less than a week, although we did meet and talked a bit at the Founder's competition -- complimented me. I don't remember what it was, she was sitting on our hallway floor and I was making pasta and she said something nice and I probably jokingly said something like "Oh, keep going, this is how you can pay for your dinners." I didn't think she would but she did.
And I started crying, not just because a) she was so nice and it was so good to hear that someone appreciated me and that I, individually, was noticed in the sea of hundreds of people that we have met in the past week, but b) the compliments rang true and didn't feel contrived or made up, which reveals a great deal of observation from her, as we've known each other for less than a week, and c) the things she brought up -- individuality, authenticity straight from the start, going to Refuge, trying and wanting to be held accountable for trying to pursue Christ -- are all things that I try to prioritize.
Being myself and accepting myself in all my quirkiness is something I have struggled with and tried to do in the past four years of high school, and I was afraid that when I moved I would lose that confidence and try to fit into the mold again. And seeking Christ and making Him a priority even in the chaos of this city and college life is, again, something I want to strive to do and something I want help with and want someone to hold me to.
I was afraid those were things I would lose sight of amongst the craziness of the past week, and if I didn't start off, I would forget through the year as well.
So it made me cry because, even if it's only been a week, I feel like my fears have been kind of put at rest, at least for the time being.
Not to mention, now that I know someone is aware of what I'm really like I can't suddenly... quit being that person, I guess.
I am this person.
I am Addison Herndon, a clumsy, awkward, obsessive girl with a passion for people and creativity and books. I have too much of a penchant for sweets and procrastination. I am a romantic through and through. I cry... a lot. I have a deep faith in Jesus and His salvation. And dare I say it, I have faith in my fellow humans.
I was this person in Kansas and I am this person in New York.
And for that, I am grateful.
It doesn't feel like that long.
Unless I think about it harder, and then it feels like ages since I've seen my friends and family or ridden in a car or seen a Freddy's or slept in my bed.
But most of the time, it feels like it's only been a couple of days, and everything is still new and fresh and exciting.
I can ride the subway! I can hear protests right outside the building during class! I can walk past Alexander Hamilton's grave every day on the way to school! I can eat whatever I want! I can randomly go to the MET! (I haven't yet, but I can!) I can go to Central Park to study!
It's weird. Wonderful, but weird.
Sometimes it doesn't feel real. It doesn't feel real that I can pop over to Brooklyn for grocery shopping. That I live 1, 385.5 miles away from almost everyone I know. That I can pop over to Battery Park because it's just around the corner.
And other times, I'm carrying toilet paper down Washington Street, and it all feels totally normal. This is life, just in a different city. Life, just with different people.
Meeting people is weird. Trying to make friends can be hard, and I so, so grateful for the House system at King's. I'm grateful for the girls in Barton who will invite me over for cupcakes or just to hang out, who will come over and eat pasta on our floor because there aren't any chairs, for roommates who will teach me how to cook chicken and go grocery shopping with me and help me out when my debit card gets rejected. I'm soooo grateful for phone calls and skype so I can talk to my people back home. I'm grateful for the opportunities to jump right in and get to know kids and professors. I'm grateful for the list of churches and who goes to them so I can start looking for a church to invest in right away. I'm grateful for the first Refuge meeting, and for Eric Bennett for challenging us, and for friends who will already hold me accountable. I am grateful for the amount of freedom and responsibility given to King's students. I am grateful for the Honor Code and the fact that people do take it so seriously and will drill it into our heads.
I cried today -- actually, I've probably cried every day for various reasons: Mom and Dad left, I opened Mom and Dad's card, Ellen said she got to hug Holly, I watched the Priceless movie trailer, I watched Avatar, I watched a So You Think You Can Dance video, I listened to "Sunrise" from In the Heights, etc. I'm someone who cries at most things, really.
But anyway, today stands out because Laura -- who I have officially known for less than a week, although we did meet and talked a bit at the Founder's competition -- complimented me. I don't remember what it was, she was sitting on our hallway floor and I was making pasta and she said something nice and I probably jokingly said something like "Oh, keep going, this is how you can pay for your dinners." I didn't think she would but she did.
And I started crying, not just because a) she was so nice and it was so good to hear that someone appreciated me and that I, individually, was noticed in the sea of hundreds of people that we have met in the past week, but b) the compliments rang true and didn't feel contrived or made up, which reveals a great deal of observation from her, as we've known each other for less than a week, and c) the things she brought up -- individuality, authenticity straight from the start, going to Refuge, trying and wanting to be held accountable for trying to pursue Christ -- are all things that I try to prioritize.
Being myself and accepting myself in all my quirkiness is something I have struggled with and tried to do in the past four years of high school, and I was afraid that when I moved I would lose that confidence and try to fit into the mold again. And seeking Christ and making Him a priority even in the chaos of this city and college life is, again, something I want to strive to do and something I want help with and want someone to hold me to.
I was afraid those were things I would lose sight of amongst the craziness of the past week, and if I didn't start off, I would forget through the year as well.
So it made me cry because, even if it's only been a week, I feel like my fears have been kind of put at rest, at least for the time being.
Not to mention, now that I know someone is aware of what I'm really like I can't suddenly... quit being that person, I guess.
I am this person.
I am Addison Herndon, a clumsy, awkward, obsessive girl with a passion for people and creativity and books. I have too much of a penchant for sweets and procrastination. I am a romantic through and through. I cry... a lot. I have a deep faith in Jesus and His salvation. And dare I say it, I have faith in my fellow humans.
I was this person in Kansas and I am this person in New York.
And for that, I am grateful.
