Waldorf says, "Hello" (in his fuzzy walrussy voice)

Well here we are. I've tried this so many times before, and I always end up being overly dramatic and artsy and trying too hard and then forgetting my password after a month. So I'm trying again, and this time, I will attempt with every fiber of my being to remain realistic. Let's keep it real, as I like to say. I'm in college. I'm an ex-artsy music school kid, future pre-law student, headed off to an adventure in the grand old southern state of North Carolina. Wake Forest University, here I come. And of course, I couldn't have picked that right out of high school like anyone else would have. No; I had to be different and seemingly amazing and go to the Royal College of Music. Live in London. Like so many American kids dream of. Just had to take off and be different. Well now I'm back, because I didn't want that any more. I don't want to be different and seemingly amazing right now, I just want to be good, even exemplary would do. Just not amazing. So there we are, I'm a transfer student. But even my transition to the norm couldn't be normal. I'll still stick out; be one of the ones no one quite knows what to do with. To be honest though, I don't know if I could be comfortable any other way simply because that's always how it's been. She's always the new girl, always the musical girl, always the homeschooled girl... always the something girl. Never just her.
Anyway, you may (if you are in fact reading this) be wondering who exactly Waldorf the walrus is. And I am here to tell you, my friend, that it will be revealed in good time. He's part of a story that I'm hoping to tell with this blog. Over the course of my endeavors as an amazing music kid (and please, realize my sarcasm when I say "amazing") I've managed to amass an incredible postcard collection. "Why postcards?" you may ask. "Well," I would say, "they're cheap, and they have better pictures of the stuff I've seen than I could ever hope to take myself." So there you have it. You will be getting a mixture of my postcards, my pictures, and my musings. I may also include, in addition to my musings, random vents, pensive rants... you know; whatever I feel like. And you are by no means encouraged to read it. I just have that annoying and all-consuming need for another human consciousness to read what I think, although it has no real relevance. Basically, I'm bored and a little bit lonely, so you, my unknown mystery reader are going to be my best friend for right now. Ok? Ok.