fresh start课文翻译

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这篇文章提供的fresh start课文翻译,小编为你解读相关内容fresh start

fresh start课文翻译

我需要一个新的挑战,换个地方fresh start。小编为大家整理的fresh start翻译,希望大家喜欢。

fresh start课文翻译

I first began to wonder what I was doing on a college campus anyway when my parents drove off, leaving me standing pitifully in a parking lot, wanting nothing more than to find my way safely to my dorm room. The fact was that no matter how mature I liked to consider myself, I was feeling just a bit first-gradish. Adding to my distress was the distinct impression that everyone on campus was watching me. My plan was to keep my ears open and my mouth shut and hope no one would notice I was a freshman.

With that thought in mind, I raised my head, squared my shoulders, and set out in the direction of my dorm, glancing (and then ever so discreetly) at the campus map clutched in my hand. It took everything I had not to stare when I caught my first glimpse of a real live college football player. What confidence, what reserve, what muscles! I only hoped his attention was drawn to my airs of assurance rather than to my shaking knees. I spent the afternoon seeking out each of my classrooms so that I could make a perfectly timed entrance before each lecture without having to ask dumb questions about its whereabouts.

The next morning I found my first class and marched in. Once I was in the room, however, another problem awaited me. Where to sit? Freshmen manuals advised sitting near the front, showing the professor in intelligent and energetic demeanor. After deliberation, I chose a seat in the first row and to the side. I was in the foreground (as advised), but out of the professor’s direct line of vision.

I cracked my anthology of American literature and scribbled the date at the top of a crisp ruled page. “Welcome to Biology 101,” the professor began. A cold sweat broke out on the back of my neck. I groped for my schedule and checked the room number. I was in the right room. Just the wrong building.

So now what? Get up and leave in the middle of the lecture? Wouldn’t the professor be angry? I knew everyone would stare. Forget it ,I settled into my chair and tried to assume the scientific pose of a biology major ,blending slightly forward, tensing my arms in preparation for furious notetaking, and cursing under my breath. The bottled snakes along the wall should have tipped me off.

After class I decided my stomach (as well as my ego) needed a little nourishment, and I hurried to the cafeteria. I accidentally stepped in a large puddle of ketchup. Keeping myself upright and getting out of the mess was not going to be easy, and this flailing of

my feet was doing not good. Just as I decided to try another maneuver, my food tray tipped and I lost my balance. As my rear end met the floor, I saw my entire life pass before my eyes: it ended with my first day of college classes.

In the seconds after my fall I thought how nice it would be if no one had noticed. But as all the students in the cafeteria came to their feet, table by table, cheering and clapping, I knew they had not only noticed ,they were determined that I would never forget it. Slowly I kicked off my ketchup-soaked sandals and jumped clear of the toppled tray and spilled food. A cleanup brigade came charging out of the kitchen, mops in the hand. I sneaked out of the cafeteria as the cheers died down behind me.

For three days I dined alone on nothing more than humiliation, shame, and an assortment of junk food from a machine strategically placed outside my room. On the fourth day I couldn’t take another crunchy-chewy-saltly-sweet bite. I needed some real food. Perhaps three days was long enough for the campus population to have forgotten me. So off to the cafeteria I went.

I made my way through the food line and tiptoed to a table, where I collapsed in relief. Suddenly I heard a crash that sounded vaguely familiar. I looked up to see that another poor soul had met the fate I’d thought was reserved only for me. I was even more surprised when I saw who the poor soul was: the very composed, very upper class football player I’d seen just days before (thought he didn’t look quite so composed wearing spaghetti on the front of his shirt). My heart went out to him as people began to cheer and clap as they had for me. He got up, hands held high above his head in a victory clasp , grinning from ear to ear. I expected him to slink out of the cafeteria as I had, but instead he turned around and began preparing another tray. And that’s when I realized I had been taking myself far too seriously.

What I had interpreted as a malicious attempt to embarrass a na?ve freshman had been merely a moment of college fun. Probably everyone in the cafeteria had done something equally dumb when he or she was a freshman-and had lived to tell about it.

Who cared whether I dropped a tray, where I sat in class, or even whether I showed up in the wrong lecture? Nobody. This wasn’t like high school. Popularity was not so important: running with the crowd was no longer a law of survival. In college, it didn’t matter. This was my bid chance to do my own thing, be my own woman-if I could get past my preoccupation with doing everything perfectly.

Once I recognized that I had no one’s expectations to live up to but my own, I relaxed. The shackles of self-consciousness fell away, and I began to view college as a wonderful experiment. I tried on new experiences like articles of clothing, checking their fit and

judging their worth. I broke a few rules to test my conscience. I dressed a little differently until I found the Real Me. I discovered a taste for jazz, and I decided I like going barefoot .

I gave up trying to act my way through college (this wasn’t drama school) and began not acting at all. College, I decided, was probably the only time I would be completely forgiven for massive mistake (including stepping in puddles of ketchup and dropping food trays). So I used the opportunity to make all the ones I thought I’d never make.

Three years after graduation, I’m still making mistakes. And I’m even being forgiven for a few.

全新的开始

我第一次开始思考我的大学要做些什么,不管怎样我的父母把我送到大学校园便开车离开了,我一个人孤零零地站在停车场,此时此刻我只想平安地找到去我宿舍的道路。一个无法改变的事实是无论我认为自己多么成熟,我都觉得还是有点儿大一新生的稚气。此外我还有一个烦恼就是总觉得大学里的每一个人好像都在注意我。我只想张开耳朵闭起嘴巴希望这样就不会有人注意到我是一个大一新生。

基于这种想法,我抬起头,耸耸肩,于是一边看着手里的校园地图,一边朝着宿舍走去。当我第一眼看到一个真正的大学足球运动员时我情不自禁地盯着他看。那是是一个多么自信,多么淡定,肌肉多么有型的人啊。此时我只希望能引起他注意的是我的外貌而不是我颤抖的膝盖。我花了一下午的时间来找每一间教室的位置,这样以后上课时就可以准时赶到,而不用问我们教室在哪儿这样愚蠢的问题。

第二天的早上我去上第一节课。然而我刚进教室,又遇到了另一件麻烦事。我该坐哪儿呢?新生手册上说我们最好尽量往前坐。这样就会给教授留下聪明好学又精力旺盛的印象。仔细考虑之后,我选择了第一排靠边的一个位置。虽然我坐在前排,但是没有在教授的视线范围之内。

我打开了我的美国选集然后在排版整齐的书上随便地写上日期。“欢迎来到101教室的生物课堂,”教授开始了他的开场白。然而我的脖子后面却冷汗直冒,我摸到了我的时间表,然后校对了一下门牌号。我才发现我进对了教室却跑错了教学楼。

现在怎么办呢?上课期间起身离开?这样教授难道不会生气吗?我知道如果这样每个人都会盯着我看。别胡思乱想了。我坐在椅子上装成生物专业的学生的样子,身体稍微地向前倾,我绷紧胳膊准备疯狂地做笔记,并悄悄地骂娘。墙上挂着的那些瓶装的蛇似乎也在暗示我应该认真点。

下课后我饿的肚子直叫,于是我飞奔到自助餐厅。我的托盘上放着美味的三明治然后便走向了卖色拉的窗口,结果一不小心踩上了一堆番茄酱。此时想要站直并摆脱窘境一点也不容易,我也开始控制不住我的腿。正在我准备想别的办法时,我的托盘开始倾斜,我一下子

失去了平衡。当我摔得四脚朝天时,我觉得我这辈子都完了,我在大学上课的第一天就这么结束了。

在我摔倒后的几秒钟我想要是没有人看到我的丑态该多好啊。可是餐厅里的'同学们就站在眼前,一桌挨着一桌,他们在鼓掌,在欢呼。我知道他们不仅看到了,而且让我永远不会忘记这一刻。我慢慢地踢开被番茄酱浸透的凉鞋,跳过打翻的一干二净的托盘和洒出的饭菜。一群清洁工过来用拖把把垃圾冲出了餐厅。当我身后的掌声渐渐地平息的时候我偷偷地溜出了自助餐厅。

有三天的时间我都是一个人进餐,然而吃的只不过是从我们宿舍外面的一个处在一个抢眼位置的机器里取出的各种各样的垃圾食品。在第四天的时候,我实在受不了那些嘎吱嘎吱又不易嚼碎不仅甜而且咸的垃圾食品了。我需要的是真正能吃的东西。也许三天的时间让同学们忘记我应该足够的长了。所以我还是去了自助餐厅。

我小心翼翼地穿过排队打饭的人群,安心地做了下来。突然间我听到了一声熟悉的破碎声。我抬头看到一个可怜的家伙遇到了原以为只有我才会遭遇的不幸。当我看到那个可怜的家伙时我更是感到吃惊,因为他竟然是我几天前看到的那个非常淡定而且超赞的足球运动员。(尽管现在洒了一身的意大利空心面他看起来并不镇静)。当别人冲着他像以前对待我一样欢呼雀跃,拍手称快时,我却对他充满了无限的同情。接着他站了起来,举起双手摆了一个胜利的姿势。我原以为他会像我当时一样偷偷地溜出自助餐厅,然而他却转身又打了一份自助餐。直到那时我才意识到是我太把自己当回事了。

我刚才所解释的,比如故意让一个幼稚的大学新生难堪时光只不过是大学快乐生活的一瞬间而已。也许自助餐厅里的每一个学生都曾在他们大一的时候做过一些很无语的事情——并且都曾有过“现场直播”。

谁会在乎我是否打翻了托盘,我会坐在教室的哪个地方,抑或是在那节进错了教室的文学课上我是否会出现。没有人会在意。这里跟高中完全不同。名声不再那么重要,追随大众也不再是生存的不二法则。在大学里,这些都是无所谓的。这里我有机会做我想做的事,如果我可以超越偏见并且凡事都做到最好,我愿意做真正的自己。

当我意识到我除了要兑现自己的承诺而不用为了达到别人的期望值而费心时,我真的好轻松。当我甩开自我意识的脚镣时,我开始把大学生活当做一种完美的尝试。我试着拥有一些新的感觉比如在穿衣服上,看看它们是否合身并且物有所值。我破坏了一些规定以此来检验我的良知。我的打扮有点另类直到我找到了真正的自己。我发现了爵士舞的味道,并且我决心要光着脚来跳。

我放弃了大学的表演之路,并决定以后再也不表演了(我们学校并不是学校)。大学的时光也许是我决定要彻底忘记曾经犯过的错误的最好时间(包括我踩在那堆番茄酱并打翻了托盘)。因此我竭尽所能犯了一些我觉得以后绝不会再犯的错误。

毕业三年后,我仍然在犯错。然而我的一些小错误甚至可以得到别人的原谅。

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