Candice's Journal

I find it hard to believe that my first year is done and over with. It's sad and terrifying but still so very rewarding.
I accomplished everything I set out to do, even with the home stretch of finals still ahead of me.
There is nothing I would undo.
I loved every minute of it.
I never felt exiled.
I never felt cheated.
I never felt alone.
I never felt disliked.
I never felt afraid.
I made friends forever, and God knows I learned more than I set out to.
Philosophy class was an eye-opener.
Humanities class was an indulgence.
Mathematics was a joy.
Actuarial Science was sweet.
Calculus was heaven.
I take every beautiful memory back with me.
I take the satisfaction that I never failed myself.
I never compromised.
I never faltered.
I never flinched.
I never regretted.
I never fell short.
I lived like there was no tomorrow.
I lived like there was no yesterday.
I am proud of myself.
I helped when I could.
I befriended when I should.
I was brave.
I was thoughtful.
I was creative.
I was myself.
I wouldn’t change one second.
I know that next time will be even better.

I’ve been feeling a bit despondent lately, I’m not sure why. I’ve been keeping in contact with friends and family but still I feel sad. I began thinking about things that would make me happy, things that I used to do back home and then it hit me. It had been ages since I really cooked anything, cooking used to be my solace. No matter how bad or sad I felt, all I had to do was switch it Chef Mode and all my troubles would just melt away. My mind was made up, I was going to cook something.

I had a few issues to deal with. Firstly, I had to decide what I was going to make, and second, I had to find the ingredients. Most of food available to us was either already prepared or frozen, and my last trip to the store did not yield anything worthwhile. I had to improvise on such short notice. Raw food was readily available at the Salad bar, I could work with that. Then it dawned on me… I could make noodles. I was so happy, everything was working out beautifully. After my last class, I made a quick stop at Romo’s Café and the Cafeteria’s Salad Bar downstairs. Four packs of Ramen and a pound of veggies later I was on my way to fun times.

I began by cleaning the workstation, a symptom of my mild OCD and years of my father’s influence. I put salted water to come to a boil and then added a tablespoon of butter. I took the noodles out of their packages, saving the small packets of seasoning for later on.

I prepared the mushrooms, onions and bell peppers by chopping them finely, along with some the large cubes of cold ham. When the noodles were ready I realized that I was without a colander or strainer. What was I to do?

It was then that the problem solver in me switched into thinking mode. I made use of a spatula and a skillet, and also came to the realization that I definitely needed to strengthen my wrists. Without spilling anything I managed to drain the noodles and set them aside. I added a little Olive Oil to them to keep them from getting sticky and gross. I began sautéing the mushrooms and meat, stirring occasionally.

Every few minutes I would break into a cleaning spasm, a habit I picked up from cooking with my dad. He never let anything stay on the counter and was constantly washing dishes as his pots bubbled on the stove. I used to tease him about, and in fact I still do, but little does he know that his habit is now my own. Sometimes I even find myself wiping the sink clean with paper towels after the dishes were packed away. How OCD is that?

I returned to my food, adding the onions and bell peppers to the sauté. I was actually a little sad that I had gotten to this point as I knew I would be finished soon. I had taken my time to prepare the veggies, cutting at them slowly as I listened to the sound of Josh Groban on my Ipod. I looked at the time and realized that I had been here for over an hour and it did not feel like it at all, I was really, really relaxed.

It was unheard of to overcook vegetables so I tossed the cooked noodles into the pan. Using a non-metal spatula was weird, and I found myself lifting and shaking the mix instead of stirring. It was time to add the seasoning mix and I tore open the tiny packets of soup mix that came with my Ramen. I mixed these in, added a sprinkle of pepper and my dish was finished. I was relaxed, happy and looking forward to enjoying the fruits of my labor.

I washed up for one last time, wiped down the counter and stove top (and yes the sink as well), packed up my pots and such and surveyed the room. Everything was as it was supposed to be. My dad would be so proud of me.

We left Pittsburgh under three inches of snow, wrapped in our scarves and jackets. My fingers were numb even in my gloves and I slipped them under my knees to keep them warm. The music on the radio and the eight bottles of Starbucks coffee stored at my feet were all I needed. We were headed away, with miles of interstate laid out before us and full tank of gas, there was nothing holding us back.

Three states later the wind in our hair was a beautiful fifty degrees and the city of Knoxville welcomed us. I felt strange walking around the city with my snow shoes hidden under the fold of my jeans but no one seemed to notice, probably because of the person with us who was wearing the bright red winter hat in the midday warmth. It was not long before we were back in the car and headed for a new destination just a few hours away.

We passed through an area called Pigeon Forge or as I like to call it, 'The Freak Show" just miles of inns and restaurants, bars and freakish amusement parks. As if the Smoky Mountains weren’t enough to enjoy, investors made sure you were happy with every convenience available. The lights were almost blinding advertising rooms starting at twenty dollars per night, but at least we knew on the way back we were guaranteed a good breakfast on our way back the following morning.

The Smoky Mountains were breathtaking. They enveloped you before you knew you were there and for just a while the temperature dropped again to ice and snowy chill. We stayed the night in the town of Cherokee, where everything held to the native theme from the Pocahontas Inn to the Gift Shop where you could buy a dream catcher for a buck fifty.

The next morning we saw just how beautiful Cherokee was, so quiet and picturesque with a subtle sadness underlying the faux teepees and the painted statues of bears everywhere. I longed deeply to stay longer, to feel the pride of the past seeping into my soul. But I knew we had to leave soon and after a wonderful meal at the Freak Show's Cracker Barrel we were ready to hit the road, coming back to our life, coming back to Robert Morris.

It is difficult adjusting to university life, especially when we were doing so well and then get shipped off on Christmas Break. I know you miss your family, and I know you miss your dog, but trust me you will see them again. Your mom’s cooking was great for the few short weeks, but now it’s back to coffee and café food.

And so it begins again, readjusting; getting back into the swing of things. You have to try to get back into the serious pace. There are assignments to hand in on time, classes to wake up for and friends to entertain.

My bit of advice: Do not overwhelm yourself, strike a balance. Play Rockband. No doubt your workload has suitably adjusted to fit you lifestyle. What did you choose? Classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays only? Or did you fix your schedule to get up after 10 everyday, just like me : )

Whatever your deal, make sure that you keep your head on your shoulders. It may be easier this semester or it may be just as hard. Realize that you need a balance. Friends plus work equal good. It’s just like first semester, only not as scary and you pretty much know people and their inclinations a lot better. Remember what kept you going last year, remember your motivations. You made it this far, the rest is easy.

Our Resident Assistant at Ross Hall, Cristie, decided that it would be fun to celebrate our heritages, in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King Day. I love my R.A. so much by the way, she is much more than an R.A., she is someone you can really talk to, and you know that she will listen and offer her help, form roommate issues to personal. (Way to go Cristie!) She wanted us to be proud of who we were and where we came from. She gathered us all in the lounge of our dormitory and presented us with paper and a mass of colors.

Our instructions were to draw and paint all of the flags that represented our ancestry. It was quite an experience. I didn’t know that such a cross-section of the world existed in our little RMU. Some of the girls were not sure of the exact appearance of the flags, so we had to do a little research. We made a few mistakes, but we learned a lot.

It is so nice when we can get together like the unorthodox family that we are. We not be the closest of kin, put we all have such a sweet relationship with each other on our floor.

It's like a little bit of home where you didn't expect it. I've made good friends simply because we live on the same floor. I am so glad I chose RMU; honestly I would not have met the people that I love so much now. It may sound a bit cliché but it is true.

My name is Candice Amanda Gopaul and I am 24 years old. Approximately 23 of those years were spent on the island of Trinidad, one of the Caribbean islands, where it is summer all year round and English is the language spoken by all.

The rest of time was spent traveling to different places, like Guyana, Venezuela (South America), New York, Miami, Maryland and Abu Dhabi (United Arab Emirates). I enjoy traveling, any and everywhere, not just to see the differences in people, places and things, but also the similarities. It is pretty amazing the things that are consistent from one culture to the next.

My time spent in Pennsylvania has been quite a learning experience, not only academically. I have grown so much during this, my first semester, that I look forward to returning. To me, the people are kind, the professors are inspiring and the food is delicious (the pierogies, I am still waiting for). Most of my time is spent keeping up with my work and coping with living on my own. New friends are wonderful, but nothing can fill the void of those you have known and loved for years.

I like making friends, trying new things, music, reading, writing, seeing new places, cooking, and listening. I love epiphanies but these are few and far between. I am really looking forward to sharing, and I hope others will take what I have to say into consideration, and respond, especially if they disagree. I am Candice, and these are my thoughts.