Hello, dearest reader, and welcome to my final blog post. I’d like to quickly thank you, dearest reader (whoever ‘you’ may be) for reading up until now. It’s been a pleasure writing these blog posts, and I hope you enjoyed reading them as much as I did writing them. This blog post will be a recap of my experience in ASTU which will include (most) of the things I’ve learned, my favourite part of the course, what I did well in, and addressing the mistakes I made in this class and how I could improve on them moving forward.

This class really pushed me to further improve my writing skills and gave me the tools to transition from a high school to university level of writing. Did my grades translate on the same level? Nope, but that’s to be expected like when finding the rhythm to a piece of music or adjusting to a different recipe (yeah, adjusting, that’s it). The point is that ASTU, regardless of my grade, gave me the tools to write a great essay. The most notable feature I learned was the “discursive ‘I'” as the usage of ‘I’ is discouraged in my high school, and this feature definitely made essay writing a lot more flexible.

My favourite part of the entire course was definitely the dramatization of The Reluctant Fundamentalist because it was extremely enjoyable (reminded me of my high school theater days) and allowed me to connect with the text a lot more. And the dramatization was probably what I the best in the entire year, because I definitely didn’t do as well as I could have in terms of writing and analyzing text. Again, it’s to be expected because of the transition period, and external distractions like social media and the internet in general did not help me stay focused. But at the same time, I’m thankful that what happened, happened, because now I know what my faults are and knowing is half the battle. With new found confidence, I can now face the next year head-on knowing that everything I’ve learned from my peers and professors will carry-on and support me in the future.

Hello dearest reader, and welcome back. It’s been awhile, and I hope you’ve been taking care of yourself properly because a few of my friends have caught horrible colds. Not just ‘walk it off’ colds, these buggers surge through the body, every nook and cranny, causing migraines and despicable fevers. Paralyzing conditions that leave them house ridden for a few days, possibly even weeks. Now, lets say that this cold has taken a turn for the worst, unable to leave the house for months and unable to do much but endure and hope and pray to recover. Being stuck in a secluded environment, no physical communication with the outside world, ignorant of the events unraveling around the neighbourhood, there could be a slight culture shock once that step is taken from the void to the outside world. A slight pinch might equate to the ‘shock’ experienced, yet changes are still noticeable. An unrecognizable elongated hound resembling a hot dog frolics irritably around the uncommonly trimmed grass, that’s odd. The neighbours were allergic to hounds, and canines synonymous to the one on the grass. The lilacs seem to have replaced the lilies, the Explorer parked closely adjacent to the driveway has transformed into an Adventure (its moved back a little, probably in the midst of its transformation), and an unsettling feeling of curiosity and uncertainty occupies the air of the newly discovered neighbourhood.

Newly? That’s incorrect, because the area should feel familiar, like home. Sweet home. Home sweet home. And at the same time, it’s not. This quality of unfamiliarity was also felt by Sgt. Price in Redeployment after stepping into the celebratory ‘welcome home’ atmosphere, filled with friends, family members, loved ones, and bouncy castles. “A fucking bouncy castle,” notes Sgt. Price. After being integrated in military culture, his concept of ‘home’ was very different when he and his squad had arrived. ‘Home,’ Sgt. Price felt, was not here. Was it back in the front lines? Was it back at the barracks with the rest of his ‘family?’ Was it with or without Cheryl?

Whatever the feeling of ‘home’ was for Sgt. Price, what he thought he had longed for, it certainly was not where ‘home’ previously was. Similarly to birds of prey, home sweet home had migrated elsewhere to the land of milk and honey.