SLU Infatuation

With Mid-Semester break behind us, we are quickly moving ahead with the 2nd half of the semester. For me, this semester has been worlds away from first semester last year. First semester last year began in the middle of a scorching heat wave. It began with name-games, hectic class registration, and illness. My first weekend on campus I came down with a cold, which was quickly followed by a sinus infection, ear infection, topped off with a grand finale of mono. As my friends put it, I never half-ass anything, even being sick.

So while I got to know my way around campus, the people in my dorm, and how to order food at the pub, I probably got to know my bed, cough drops, and ibuprofen better.

Second semester I spent abroad, exploring the cobblestone streets of Rouen where it never got that cold and it snowed only once. I glimpsed the experience of a winter in Canton only briefly in the period of late November to December right before break, but what I remember is this: gingerbread men at the student center, impromptu snowball fights, and warm Saturday mornings watching the snow fall. For this reason, when I heard more than one rumor this week that the first reported snowflakes fell on St. Lawrence campus, I couldn’t help smile. Bring it on Canton. Bring it on.

There are so many aspects of first semester that I missed, and so many experiences of second semester I have yet to live. In many ways, I still feel the first-year excitement over the experiences I missed last year. This year I’ve seen sports games, gone canoeing, seen movies and a comedian in the Winston room, listened to talks about the military power of China, and so much more.

I’m halfway through my second fall semester on campus, and my relationship with SLU has not left the infatuation stage. So, as the rest of the leaves turn and fall off the trees and we move into the snowy days ahead, try not to get too caught up in the essays and research. Keep the inner-freshman intact and don’t be afraid to gawk at how beautiful the chapel looks when it’s lit up, or how ridiculous the squirrels look as they neurotically race up and down the trees.


– Emily Mulvihill

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