Anything and Everything: A Review of My First Semester Adventure

A full semester of UBC. A full semester of equal parts haste, equal parts precision. It showed me that intuition and intellect go nowhere without hard work, much like the papers to prove said intellect. It was fun though. I felt like an high school exchange student in a foreign nation, recognizing key concepts and learning patterns but reveling in this newfound form of tweaked education. Also, I can see the difference between high school and university now. At high school you’re part of the mass, trying to shine just a bit brighter than that guy or that girl. But at university, you’re a shining individual (that’s why you were accepted!), making up the shining mass. I like to think of university as a league of superheroes, because I’m amazed by what people are doing around me, intellectually and socially.

The clubs we have are amazing. I had the opportunity to be in a UBCimprov workshop, and it was my social highlight of the semester. There’s a beautifully ridiculous aura you gain when telling a story about a goat’s estranged mother, a balloon party for lumberjacks, an amusement park in a swamp, anything you want to say. That’s what improv is. It’s those niches we crave which give us the experiences we treasure. How many 100-level courses will we vividly remember? A couple, I’d say. And only the ones that truly touched us. But that crazy and monumental Colour Wars, that chaotic yet fulfilling Totem One Acts, that quaint Lord of the Rings marathon in rez, those are my vivid memories. That’s my niche.

And I feel now that I’ve found it, second semester will be much better. I’ll spend more time on what I only dusted across. CiTR, for example, drew me in like a 90% off Boxing Day sale. Not my best metaphor but let’s push on. I was trained, I was motivated, I sat in on a fantastic experience, and then papers happened, and then exams happened. And my mind that had window-shopped through social experiences now had the boutiques of experience closed down by the police of responsibility and time management. I was sacrificing CiTR volunteer hours for a “just a bit more” sleep philosophy. And I was sacrificing nights at the UBC Film Society for surprisingly decent poutine and surprisingly challenging Philosophy questions. Never before in a course have I wanted to proclaim, “I have not a single clue” and walk out.

But it’s amazing how my History class contrasts that. My History paper was perhaps the best academic assignment I’ve ever been given. In a subject you’d think revolved around memorization, this course, History 103 taught by Dr. Steven Lee, gave me a paper that I could weld with my own passion. One aspect of history I was always interested in was Nazi occupation. Why was France treated so well in comparison to Eastern Europe? Who wielded the control in separate occupied nations? It was fascinating to me. So I buckled down, with apple juice and dill-flavoured Old Dutch chips aplenty, and just wrote, and examined, and expressed everything I wanted to express. And man did I learn. That’s how education should be. With passion. With expression.

And that’s a tip we’re all given; live with no regrets and seek what you love. But that advice is so overused that we’re desensitized to it, sadly, so we heed the little ones. For example, I was told very early on to buy bulk drinks (pop, juice) to save money. And so I kept on getting these small plastic bottles of apple juice, in bulk. And so one day, when I hadn’t done my recycling in a while, I stacked them. Pretty soon I recycled none of my apple juice bottles. So now I have a couple hundred small empty bottles of apple juice. My ultimate goal is to weld them into a huge pyramid, perhaps as a centerpiece to the Brow house. Damn, that would have made a swell Christmas gift. They say someone’s trash is someone else’s treasure. Well, my trash is my treasure, so back off “someone else.” If only I could turn my chip bags into some sort of heavy-duty tent, then we’d be talking. Not intelligently or anything, but we’d most certainly be talking. Mainly,

“Why’s Evan’s tent all shiny?”

“Because it’s made of chip bags.”

“Oh…that’s weird.”

All in all (and I know I shouldn’t use that to end an essay), UBC has been an experience, one that I’ll be sure to craft more precisely next semester. I think it’ll be like red wine. I’ll find it getting better with experience, mature with age, and always good with a slab of cheese.

Happy Holidays everyone. May your break consist of delicious food, wonderful films and altogether fantastic people.

I’ll see you soon UBC.

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