10/9, no. 53

One thing I really love about college is the fact that I learn so much outside of the classroom. This past weekend alone I learned how to properly knit and ride a bicycle, both of which I've been actively and almost constantly utilizing now. Knitting needs little mental energy yet requires pretty focused concentration, which are two traits that aptly describe my favorite cathartic guilty pleasures (like painting nails). Biking is a literal source of escape, everything seems so much more fast-paced and urban when riding a bike (but I'm probably biased seeing as how the only times I've biked are after the sun's gone down).
And then there are the lessons learned that could very possibly help me out in random corners, significant or not, of life: how and why you should only drink black coffee, how to take care of a completely shitfaced acquaintance, how to make houses/shoe racks/bookshelves/etc out of cardboard boxes, how to engage in conversation better (people love to talk about themselves, so to lessen the awkwardness you just keep asking questions and seem interested. Luckily the latter portion of this protocol isn't too hard because people, as it turns out, are actually pretty cool).
I've learned other things, too. I talked to a close friend's cousin, a wise senior at Middlebury, and he explained to me that one shouldn't be whoring themselves off to different careers by changing or idiotically majoring in a subject they don't love; rather, we should be examining ourselves, seeing what we do best because "life is about doing, not just learning; you're not going to be reading essays and writing theses when you're 40, you're going to be doing." Thank you, by the way.
And during another phone call with the same close friend last night I was told something I've been severely overlooking during the past year: "Ashley, I know you love journalism and English. You've been wanting to do that for years. It might not be the most marketable major, but it's what you love to do. So do what you love to do, and be the best at it." (Thank you, too). And it's true. All throughout middle school I'd be obsessed with writing and I made sure I would be at the top of the class in the field of English - in the eighth grade, I had an immense desire to study journalism in Germany. But when I was handed a fat slap of reality, I guess I took it the wrong way and looked at other fields and freaked out.
I'm in a big state of transition right now. I'm just focusing on the doing as of now, because regardless of my major, the "doing" will always be marketable and important. I don't think my reasons for studying medicine were ever even very strong. Things are volatile and tentative right now, which makes me feel like I'm walking on eggshells, but I'll figure it sooner or later.
Essentially, all my ramblings in this post can be summed up with the words of one of my favorite authors: "Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that nothing that is worth knowing can be taught."