The summer of Zo as we all (ok, as I) know and love it has officially come to a close. Today was my first day of school, and from here on out I will be a serious professional student and will no longer spend my days sleeping until noon, doing Pilates, drinking tequila and writing about it — thus confirming that grad school is going to be very different than college.
As sad as I am for my summer to be over, I will say that I am very, very excited to be going back to school. This is an incredible opportunity, and I am looking forward to "becoming a stronger
interviewer and writer, and finding out what I am passionate about so that I can apply it to my work and my career" (that is, word for word, what I wrote on my introductory index card this morning. NERD ALERT!!!!);.
Having been out of the game (read: school) for two years, I forgot how horribly, horribly boring orientation is. Sitting in a room for 9 hours straight, surrounded by complete strangers, learning about how to use the library and how to log into the printers? I mean, it's brutal.
After day one of my two day mandatory orientation (which, one of my friends advised me to "100% skip if you want to make any friends at all. Orientation is for losers.") my only takeaway was that I really needed a drink (and that I still had no idea where the library was). Luckily, it was Thursday, and a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend was having a birthday party at Village Tavern (a dive bar in the West Village where I met two of my last three boyfriends), so convincing people to go out was relatively effortless.
The bar ended up being great—so good, in fact, that I ordered several rounds of Fireball shots for everyone there. After all, since I was all of a sudden back in school, it felt appropriate to behave like I was 19 again.
47 rounds later, it was time to go home.
I recently started seeing a guy who happened to be out that night and begged him to order pizza to his roof after the third bar of the night (the first two of which I remember clearly, the third— not so much) and by the time we got home and the pizza got there it was so late I decided it would be easier to just spend the night and go home before school in the morning to change and pull myself together. Drunk logic, as it turns out, doesn't always make sense.
Cut to 8:30 the next morning when I shot awake, still wearing my white jeans from the night before, in his apartment. The orientation program started at 9, and was at least a 45 minute subway ride uptown. After we had been lectured for an hour the previous day about the importance of being on time ("If you are even ONE minute late, you will be locked outside the classroom and considered absent"), my hope for going home (all the way from the West side to the East side) before going to school was totally out the window.
So, I Walk of Shamed to Day 2 of Grad School.
In white jeans, black tank top and (thank God) a pair of flat sandals, it definitely could have been worse, but that combined with the fact that my hair was matted to one side of my head and I reeked of a dive bar, it definitely wasn't great.
To make matters worse, I fell asleep halfway through the lecture on How To Make The Most of Our Extracurricular Activities, and the lovely British girl next to me had to tap me awake and offer me a 5 Hour Energy.
It was an apt close to the #summerofzo — now I just need to finish my summer reading.
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| My cute first day of school outfit, very appropriate for August |
interviewer and writer, and finding out what I am passionate about so that I can apply it to my work and my career" (that is, word for word, what I wrote on my introductory index card this morning. NERD ALERT!!!!);.
Having been out of the game (read: school) for two years, I forgot how horribly, horribly boring orientation is. Sitting in a room for 9 hours straight, surrounded by complete strangers, learning about how to use the library and how to log into the printers? I mean, it's brutal.
After day one of my two day mandatory orientation (which, one of my friends advised me to "100% skip if you want to make any friends at all. Orientation is for losers.") my only takeaway was that I really needed a drink (and that I still had no idea where the library was). Luckily, it was Thursday, and a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend was having a birthday party at Village Tavern (a dive bar in the West Village where I met two of my last three boyfriends), so convincing people to go out was relatively effortless.
The bar ended up being great—so good, in fact, that I ordered several rounds of Fireball shots for everyone there. After all, since I was all of a sudden back in school, it felt appropriate to behave like I was 19 again.
47 rounds later, it was time to go home.
I recently started seeing a guy who happened to be out that night and begged him to order pizza to his roof after the third bar of the night (the first two of which I remember clearly, the third— not so much) and by the time we got home and the pizza got there it was so late I decided it would be easier to just spend the night and go home before school in the morning to change and pull myself together. Drunk logic, as it turns out, doesn't always make sense.
Cut to 8:30 the next morning when I shot awake, still wearing my white jeans from the night before, in his apartment. The orientation program started at 9, and was at least a 45 minute subway ride uptown. After we had been lectured for an hour the previous day about the importance of being on time ("If you are even ONE minute late, you will be locked outside the classroom and considered absent"), my hope for going home (all the way from the West side to the East side) before going to school was totally out the window.
So, I Walk of Shamed to Day 2 of Grad School.
In white jeans, black tank top and (thank God) a pair of flat sandals, it definitely could have been worse, but that combined with the fact that my hair was matted to one side of my head and I reeked of a dive bar, it definitely wasn't great.
To make matters worse, I fell asleep halfway through the lecture on How To Make The Most of Our Extracurricular Activities, and the lovely British girl next to me had to tap me awake and offer me a 5 Hour Energy.
It was an apt close to the #summerofzo — now I just need to finish my summer reading.
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