This is about fashion.

gloves Top Shop

I consider myself to be a pretty logical person. And logically, clothes should matter no more than to aid survival and keep us from being arrested.
But ever since I could fully recognize my appearance in a reflection, I've loved fashion.
I have my mom to thank. For a long while I was her shopping buddy. She taught me the basics, what matched, what didn't, the importance of having different kinds of pieces in your closet, and of course the joy of clearance racks.
While many elementary children still had their moms take out school clothes, I was putting together outfits by the 3rd grade - an accomplishment that does matter thank you!
But those were simpler days when there were no rules nor money to care about.
Now (and now especially as an unemployed college student) being a fashionista isn't as easy.

This is about my first day of class. This is Part II.

I wouldn't call my life awkward. Not that the word doesn't fit, but I feel it's so overused.
To me, awkward is applied to the small things that have a big enough emotional effect to make me feel uncomfortable for an extended amount of time.
Like MTV's "Awkward.". I love the show, but accidentally announcing that you want to have sex with your boyfriend through the PA system isn't awkward, it's devastating.
That being clarified let me narrate my overanalyzed experience to my first ever class in the Loop, traveling solo.

This is about my first day of class. This is Part I.

It dawned on me while I was doctoring up my coffee at Starbucks at exactly 9:26am.
I was upset that the half&half was empty, but thankfully the nonfat milk hadn't run out yet. Unfortunately the kid next to me was unlucky enough to knock his drink a bit sending about 1/3 of the contents all over the counter. I was about to laugh to ease his embarrassment*, but quickly shut my mouth.
He was one of those people. You know, the super serious ones that curse life when they trip on an uneven sidewalk, make a freudian slip, or knock over their own coffee.
*Okay, maybe laughing would make you more embarrassed, but it makes me feel better. I'm not afraid to laugh at myself so I want someone else to do so too.
Napkins were seized, quickly ran over the spill, and he sharply left out the doors.
Then the thought really occurred to me how alone I was on my first day of class.

This is college.

Yeah Stitch is with me, so?!

My dorm room is all organized and now has that perfect lived-in-mess that makes it feel like home.
My roommates are cool and vary in range on the party scale so we balance each other out.
There's at least one party going on somewhere on campus.
And my last paycheck will be mailed in signaling my soon-to-be-brokeness.
I'm a college student.
So, how is the Nebraska native faring in the streets of Chicago?