There’s really nothing “normal” about your first semester of college. You live in a building with 1,000 other people, you share a bathroom with girls you’ve never met, and you eat breakfast in a cafeteria in your jammies with no shame. As everyone will obviously feel a little awkward at least once in their first semester, I think I can argue that my first semester was a little more cringe-worthy than most.

Let’s begin with experience number one. Second night out of the week, and I’m ready to take on welcome week like the little unexperienced champ I claim to be. I’m armed with a crop top and high wasted shorts, gold iPhone 5s, lanyard around my neck and a whole lot of confidence. A few friends from my building and I all planned to go to a few parties around campus together – typical freshmen during welcome week. I’m feeling good, still sporting my tan from summer and ready to go. We go to the frat and let me tell you, it was poppin’. First-week-of-college-me is feeling myself, having a great time at this crowded, stinky party. Before I know it, my friends are ready to leave and I decide I am as well. I sat down on the curb with my group, and I notice my roommate is no where to be found. Being the heroic woman that I am, I’m compelled to gracefully sprint to go find her.

What actually ended up happening was I flew forward and completely wiped out in front of a yard full of frat boys. I scraped both knees, my hands, elbows, and even got a little scrape on my chin, but I popped up pretty quickly – Mama didn’t raise no quitter. People came up to me asking if I was okay, obviously trying not to laugh, but I brushed off the cement from my dripping knees and said I was fine. To my surprise, I had also shattered/crushed my iPhone and broke the wallet I had bought specifically to protect it. The rest of the night consisted of me wiping my wounds with my friend’s Nike sock. Welcome Week: 1, Me: 0.

My wounds quickly healed after a trip to the Health Center, and my broken pride slowly healed as well. But, when classes began, a whole new can of awkward worms was opened. I’m walking to class in what feels like the Sahara Desert. I’ve got my head down, minding my own little freshman business, trying to stay low-key because I was looking rough that morning. Since this is a 9:10 class in a high traffic area, there were lots of students out and about. I’m walking across the street to my math class listening to my SoundCloud when all of a sudden I hear police sirens and see lights in my peripheral vision and I think, Oh, someone’s probably speeding or something. Sike fam, no one was speeding - nothing is quite that simple. Everyone was looking at something behind me and I turn around and take my ear bud out to see what the commotion is all about. “Excuse me, Miss, please step over to the vehicle.” said the cop in the car and points at ME. I walk over timidly and everyone is staring at me. He roles down his window a little further and asks for my student ID. I hand it over with a trembling hand, obviously confused as to how I just got pulled over while walking, and he goes on to tell me that I should be fined almost $200 for walking in a “no walking zone”. By this time I see a few phones out recording me getting reprimanded for walking, and I’m a little embarrassed. Luckily I got “let off with a warning” and didn’t have a fine, but my ego once again took a little toll. I don’t even want to know how many Snapchat stories that ended up on.

So by now you’re probably thinking I’m just in the wrong place at the wrong time doing the wrong things. But that is only the beginning of the weirdness, my friend. I’m walking to class a couple days later, waiting at every stop light and making sure my feet are firmly planted on the ground. I’m walking past Wells Hall which is known for having protesters in the courtyard, which I walk through every day to class. I’ve got my Starbucks in my hand, and I’m striding to class on a beautiful day when all of a sudden a protestor points to me (very close to my face) and claims that I “don’t believe in Jesus and I need to be saved”. Now, I went to Catholic school almost my entire life so I’m not really sure why I gave off a vibe that I’m a nonbeliever but nonetheless, this guy was not feeling me. I try to keep walking, but he kept yelling at me about how much I need the Lord in my life. I escaped this encounter, but not for long. Three days later ANOTHER protester singled me out for the same reason, and a couple days later a different protester did the same thing. Clearly I look like I need Jesus.

You’re probably getting a little tired of listening to my series of unfortunate events and trust me I feel you – I’m getting a little tired of being in these weird situations. But, the fun didn’t end there. As the semester continued, I got my bike stolen at the Math Learning Center, slipped near a water fountain in front of a cute guy who was checking me out, got hit by a girl on a bike at a stop light (hard), destroyed my white shorts after wiping out at a paint party, and fell off my loft bed. Keep me in your thoughts as I continue clumsily into my second semester. Hopefully I won’t trip into any more awkward moments, but if I do, you’ll be sure to hear about them. XOXO.