I base this assertion on the fact that I woke up today at 7:15am (instead of 11:00am) and that I am planning to go to bed around 10:30pm (instead of 1:00am). Furthermore, I'm watching Laverne and Shirley right now...somehow I feel like that gives me bonus grown-up points.
On the whole, I would call today a success. I survived my first Greek class with only minor embarrassment (practically every answer I offered up was partially wrong, but that's to be expected on the first day of a foreign language class). The class didn't feel interminable either; the four hours actually went by rather quickly. I really like the professor, so that's definitely a plus.
Even better, I find that after today's class I'm WAY better at translating Greek sentences to English (yeah, we're doing that already, on day one). While my pre-class translations were things like "Brothers know that they see a lake" (coherent, and yet stupid), tonight's assignment read more along the lines of "In the hour of glory the Lord speaks to the hearts of children" (coherent, and not stupid). I really like being able to read full sentences in Greek on just the first day...French and German NEVER moved that fast, that I remember.
I do foresee a slight challenge in the fact that all my obligations now fall into the non-English category - Greek class/homework and French for my job. I don't know if it's because I was tired from waking up early or because my mind was all foreign languaged-out, but it was REALLY hard for me to push through my job today. I'm sure I'll get more used to it as time goes on.
In other news, I got barbecue for dinner with a friend, and have substantial leftovers in my refrigerator because I wasn't that hungry. Win.
I realize that this post is probably hugely uninteresting to people who are not me, and I commend you for reading it this far. I'll try to become more interesting in future posts...I'm planning on some cooking experimentation this summer, so at least there's that. But right now, I'm going to bed (at 10:30)...because I'm a grown-up, you know.
"The only way of catching a train I have ever discovered is to miss the train before." - Gilbert K. Chesterton
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Monday, May 30, 2011
Past My Bedtime, AH!!!!
So the go-to-bed-at 10:30 to easily wake up at 7am plan has failed, since it's now 11:02. Therefore, this post is going to be short and sweet. Here it is:
Today I worked on Greek, worked on Greek, got mad at the city of Dallas, got mad at my phone, worked on Greek, went to a Memorial Day barbecue with friends, worked on Greek, worked on Greek, wrote this post. Fun, right?
Back to classes tomorrow!
Today I worked on Greek, worked on Greek, got mad at the city of Dallas, got mad at my phone, worked on Greek, went to a Memorial Day barbecue with friends, worked on Greek, worked on Greek, wrote this post. Fun, right?
Back to classes tomorrow!
Sunday, May 29, 2011
All Greek-ed Out
Well, I've been working on Lesson 1 out of my Greek textbook for about the last 2.5-3 hours my life (not counting the 1-1.5 hours I spent working on this lesson earlier this week). I have come to the conclusion that this class is going to be INTENSE. I'm hoping the lessons will go a bit faster once I become more comfortable with the letters and things (different alphabet, you know), but it's definitely not the sort of class that you can slack off in and still be fine the next day. Thankfully, I have enough experience with foreign languages to know that this is the case. I'll just have to make sure I really stay on top of everything. I have high hopes at the moment. It'll definitely be an interesting six weeks of Greek-ification!
It's actually kind of been blowing my mind that little kids learn an entire letter system and their pronunciation and how to read it all with relative ease...I don't remember it being this hard to learn English. It's really remarkable; to me, the Greek letters look like a bunch of gibberish, but a Greek kid could rattle off their names and read the language easily. It makes me all impressed with the minds of children.
In less intellectual news, I totally watched Gnomeo and Juliet today, and it was all fantastic. Seriously. I loved it. It's one of those movies that is just delightful in every way. Also, Elton John was a producer on the film...did you know that? I thought that was odd, but that it made perfect sense at the same time.
Anyway, I'd write more, but like I said I'm all Greek-ed out, and I need to get to bed early so I can start being a morning person who will be appropriately bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 8:30 classes all month. Off to bed with me!!
In less intellectual news, I totally watched Gnomeo and Juliet today, and it was all fantastic. Seriously. I loved it. It's one of those movies that is just delightful in every way. Also, Elton John was a producer on the film...did you know that? I thought that was odd, but that it made perfect sense at the same time.
Anyway, I'd write more, but like I said I'm all Greek-ed out, and I need to get to bed early so I can start being a morning person who will be appropriately bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 8:30 classes all month. Off to bed with me!!
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Nature-tastic Hotel Experience
So tonight I find myself in a La Quinta hotel in grand ol' Muskogee, Oklahoma, en route to Dallas from St. Louis. This hotel is all nature-riffic in two ways, one good, and one bad.
The good way: I can see horses from my windoooooooow! Click on the picture to make it bigger, I promise they're there...
It really is quite a lovely view...definitely an improvement from the parking lots and Sam's Clubs I usually see out my hotel room windows. Very peaceful. But then, Muskogee is essentially in the middle of nowhere, and my hotel is even on the north side of the city so it's extra middle-of-nowhere.
The bad way the hotel is nature-tastic: Ants.
My room has ants. Not a lot of ants, but ants nonetheless. They've been showing up in squadrons of 3-4 on and off for the last couple of hours...not majorly intrusive, but minorly unpleasant. I just went down to the front desk to see about changing rooms, and they're completely booked (happy Memorial Day!). But, the receptionist did come up and spray some kind of ant-killer around the areas where I've seen them (which is somewhat localized to the right nightstand). My personal strategy has been to move to the other side of the bed, and since it's a king-size this has been proving rather effective so far. So it's not a big deal, but it did make my night slightly more interesting.
Really, it's quite a lovely hotel room...I've never stayed in a La Quinta, but every other hotel I checked out in Muskogee was completely booked by the time I made my reservation. I like the decorative scheme here...burnt orange and camel-colored walls and curtains and such. It's all warm and inviting-like. And this bed is SUPER comfortable. And I'm super tired, so that's a good thing.
Back to Dallas tomorrow!
The good way: I can see horses from my windoooooooow! Click on the picture to make it bigger, I promise they're there...
It really is quite a lovely view...definitely an improvement from the parking lots and Sam's Clubs I usually see out my hotel room windows. Very peaceful. But then, Muskogee is essentially in the middle of nowhere, and my hotel is even on the north side of the city so it's extra middle-of-nowhere.
The bad way the hotel is nature-tastic: Ants.
My room has ants. Not a lot of ants, but ants nonetheless. They've been showing up in squadrons of 3-4 on and off for the last couple of hours...not majorly intrusive, but minorly unpleasant. I just went down to the front desk to see about changing rooms, and they're completely booked (happy Memorial Day!). But, the receptionist did come up and spray some kind of ant-killer around the areas where I've seen them (which is somewhat localized to the right nightstand). My personal strategy has been to move to the other side of the bed, and since it's a king-size this has been proving rather effective so far. So it's not a big deal, but it did make my night slightly more interesting.
Really, it's quite a lovely hotel room...I've never stayed in a La Quinta, but every other hotel I checked out in Muskogee was completely booked by the time I made my reservation. I like the decorative scheme here...burnt orange and camel-colored walls and curtains and such. It's all warm and inviting-like. And this bed is SUPER comfortable. And I'm super tired, so that's a good thing.
Back to Dallas tomorrow!
Friday, May 27, 2011
Happy Fake Birthday to Me!
It is not my birthday. But, since I'm currently home and among family (until tomorrow), and will NOT be home on my actual birthday in a couple weeks, we did the family celebrations today. We went to O'Charley's for dinner - home of awesome rolls and awesome baked potato soup and awesome chicken tenders with awesome honey mustard. I have yet to locate an O'Charley's in Dallas, so it was fun to eat there tonight...we used to go there ALL THE TIME in the Lexington college years, generally with a group of about 10 people. I had some flashbacks.
Speaking of flashbacks, in just a couple days it will be a WHOLE year since I graduated college...it's weird.
I'll also be starting summer classes in just a couple days. It's also weird, but in a different way.
But enough of that. Back to the fake birthday.
Fake birthday celebrations yield real birthday gifts! Specifically, it yielded a super awesome wall-hanging of the Paris Opera house (which I found while shopping with my mom a couple months ago and which she bought then as my birthday present with instructions that I wouldn't be allowed to have it until my birthday), Friends Season 6 on DVD (I've been slowly collecting all ten seasons), the Voyage of the Dawn Treader Narnia movie (it's my favorite book of the series, and the movie made me cry multiple times), and And AND a Vera Bradley purse that I fell in love with several months ago but never thought I'd actually own. I like the pattern (Watercolor) because it reminds me of Madeleine storybook illustrations. Here it is now:
So it was a good fake birthday :)
Tomorrow I'll start the trek back to Dallas, phase one, to Muskogee, Oklahoma. Back to the real world I must go...with my new purse and DVDs and artwork. At least the real world will be more stylish!
Speaking of flashbacks, in just a couple days it will be a WHOLE year since I graduated college...it's weird.
I'll also be starting summer classes in just a couple days. It's also weird, but in a different way.
But enough of that. Back to the fake birthday.
Fake birthday celebrations yield real birthday gifts! Specifically, it yielded a super awesome wall-hanging of the Paris Opera house (which I found while shopping with my mom a couple months ago and which she bought then as my birthday present with instructions that I wouldn't be allowed to have it until my birthday), Friends Season 6 on DVD (I've been slowly collecting all ten seasons), the Voyage of the Dawn Treader Narnia movie (it's my favorite book of the series, and the movie made me cry multiple times), and And AND a Vera Bradley purse that I fell in love with several months ago but never thought I'd actually own. I like the pattern (Watercolor) because it reminds me of Madeleine storybook illustrations. Here it is now:
So it was a good fake birthday :)
Tomorrow I'll start the trek back to Dallas, phase one, to Muskogee, Oklahoma. Back to the real world I must go...with my new purse and DVDs and artwork. At least the real world will be more stylish!
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Have a Six Flags Day!
Today I went to Six Flags on the coldest day of my life.
OK, perhaps not the coldest day of my entire life, but it was a COLD day for late May - 50 degrees, with a lingering soggy feeling from morning drizzle. But, today was the elected day for my friend Nick and I would go to Six Flags, and so off we went. There was a momentary discussion of substitution plans that was quickly ended by Nick pointing out that he had already printed off a pre-purchased ticket - something I hadn't done, because our printer is broken (and by broken, I mean out of ink). So off we went to Six Flags.
The cold was compounded by the fact that I didn't pack winter clothes for my vacation home. Silly me, I thought that it was almost summer; I forgot my parka. I did pull an old Transylvania hoodie out of my closet, though, so that was helpful...even if paired with shorts. The shorts have buttoned pockets, which were a necessity since my cell phone almost flew off The Boss last summer...
Despite the general cold and wet environment, it was actually the perfect kind of weather for a Six Flags visit because it's the kind of weather that no one wants to be outside in...which, of course, means that there was basically no one at the park. And although there WERE massive throngs of field-tripping middle schoolers everywhere, but they were mostly entertaining and rarely annoying, and we never had to wait more than 20 minutes or so for a ride. So yay for Six Flags in unpleasant weather!
Also, if you are about the St. Louis Six Flags, I recommend that you ride the Tony Hawk roller coaster (now called "Pandemonium"), and that you finagle things in such a way that you and one other person are riding alone in the 4-person car, sitting on the same side as one another. The physics of the situation make it so that the car spins around CRAZILY, because all of the passenger weight is shifted to one side. It was all kinds of awesome.
Of course, Six Flags and I also have a love-hate relationship because of the absolutely awful summer I spent serving pizza there. Today had its fair share of reminiscent groans, and even a sighting of my evil ex-supervisor. But, there is a certain awesomeness about walking around the park having fun and knowing that I'll never have to work there again.
All in all, it was a day well spent. I've been absolutely EXHAUSTED since, and spent a great deal of the evening laying on the couch watching "Miss Congeniality" before hauling myself off to more important matters like laundry. Vacation is rapidly coming to a close, and the world of reality is pressing upon me...
But now, I'm off to bed, for an early breakfast best-friend-date. Have a Six Flags day!
OK, perhaps not the coldest day of my entire life, but it was a COLD day for late May - 50 degrees, with a lingering soggy feeling from morning drizzle. But, today was the elected day for my friend Nick and I would go to Six Flags, and so off we went. There was a momentary discussion of substitution plans that was quickly ended by Nick pointing out that he had already printed off a pre-purchased ticket - something I hadn't done, because our printer is broken (and by broken, I mean out of ink). So off we went to Six Flags.
The cold was compounded by the fact that I didn't pack winter clothes for my vacation home. Silly me, I thought that it was almost summer; I forgot my parka. I did pull an old Transylvania hoodie out of my closet, though, so that was helpful...even if paired with shorts. The shorts have buttoned pockets, which were a necessity since my cell phone almost flew off The Boss last summer...
Despite the general cold and wet environment, it was actually the perfect kind of weather for a Six Flags visit because it's the kind of weather that no one wants to be outside in...which, of course, means that there was basically no one at the park. And although there WERE massive throngs of field-tripping middle schoolers everywhere, but they were mostly entertaining and rarely annoying, and we never had to wait more than 20 minutes or so for a ride. So yay for Six Flags in unpleasant weather!
Also, if you are about the St. Louis Six Flags, I recommend that you ride the Tony Hawk roller coaster (now called "Pandemonium"), and that you finagle things in such a way that you and one other person are riding alone in the 4-person car, sitting on the same side as one another. The physics of the situation make it so that the car spins around CRAZILY, because all of the passenger weight is shifted to one side. It was all kinds of awesome.
Of course, Six Flags and I also have a love-hate relationship because of the absolutely awful summer I spent serving pizza there. Today had its fair share of reminiscent groans, and even a sighting of my evil ex-supervisor. But, there is a certain awesomeness about walking around the park having fun and knowing that I'll never have to work there again.
All in all, it was a day well spent. I've been absolutely EXHAUSTED since, and spent a great deal of the evening laying on the couch watching "Miss Congeniality" before hauling myself off to more important matters like laundry. Vacation is rapidly coming to a close, and the world of reality is pressing upon me...
But now, I'm off to bed, for an early breakfast best-friend-date. Have a Six Flags day!
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Learn How to Write, People.
I've decided that I could be a journalist, if only because of the ridiculous amount of typos and misspellings that I've seen over the past few weeks on various news sites from around the country. I may sound like an 82 year-old librarian, but hear me out.
The amount of news stories I read on a daily basis has skyrocketed lately, as I've been following stories on 1) the Harold Camping clan, 2) the Joplin tornado, and 3) the never-ending severe weather warnings that pounded Missouri literally all week. It's been a rough and newsworthy week, and so I've been reading about everything to stay informed.
And, although I am quite informed about all the aforementioned situations, what I am now very aware of is the abundance of misspellings and typos in breaking news stories.
I understand that errors are inevitable when you're pressing to get a story released as quickly as possible, but some of the errors I noticed seem to be committed out of ignorance rather than haste. A prime example is the article that sparked this post, about the severe weather that came through St. Louis today. The article leads off with this line...
"Whaling tornado sirens and ominous skies had people scrambling to take cover in Chesterfield late Wednesday afternoon..." (source)
Sigh.
I'll give you a second to discover the problem for yourself, if you haven't seen it yet.
Here's a hint. It's the very first word in the sentence.
"Whaling" sirens? I don't think so. In fact, my dear news journalist, I am almost certain that you mean "wailing."
Whaling, according to the Oxford Dictionary, is "the practice or industry of hunting and killing whales for their oil, meat, or whalebone." Given that whales are something of a rarity in the landlocked mid-western state of Missouri, I doubt that the sirens were alerting St. Louis residents to the maleficent malpractice of whale poaching. It is much more likely that the sirens were wailing - putting forth a "prolonged, high-pitched cry."
Dramatic word imagery fail.
I'm not a perfect writer myself, and I hate finding typos or misspellings in my blog posts after they've appeared for the general public to read; in fact, I always fix them immediately upon their discovery. Why? Because being able to communicate well is important, and you do an injustice to your ideas and thoughts if you do not communicate them properly. Also, it's just plain annoying for the people who have to read whatever it is that you have written.
So learn to write...and learn to write well. Especially if you're going into the paid journalism business.
For your convenience, here are some more helpful hints on how to speak English properly...
The amount of news stories I read on a daily basis has skyrocketed lately, as I've been following stories on 1) the Harold Camping clan, 2) the Joplin tornado, and 3) the never-ending severe weather warnings that pounded Missouri literally all week. It's been a rough and newsworthy week, and so I've been reading about everything to stay informed.
And, although I am quite informed about all the aforementioned situations, what I am now very aware of is the abundance of misspellings and typos in breaking news stories.
I understand that errors are inevitable when you're pressing to get a story released as quickly as possible, but some of the errors I noticed seem to be committed out of ignorance rather than haste. A prime example is the article that sparked this post, about the severe weather that came through St. Louis today. The article leads off with this line...
"Whaling tornado sirens and ominous skies had people scrambling to take cover in Chesterfield late Wednesday afternoon..." (source)
Sigh.
I'll give you a second to discover the problem for yourself, if you haven't seen it yet.
Here's a hint. It's the very first word in the sentence.
"Whaling" sirens? I don't think so. In fact, my dear news journalist, I am almost certain that you mean "wailing."
Dramatic word imagery fail.
I'm not a perfect writer myself, and I hate finding typos or misspellings in my blog posts after they've appeared for the general public to read; in fact, I always fix them immediately upon their discovery. Why? Because being able to communicate well is important, and you do an injustice to your ideas and thoughts if you do not communicate them properly. Also, it's just plain annoying for the people who have to read whatever it is that you have written.
So learn to write...and learn to write well. Especially if you're going into the paid journalism business.
For your convenience, here are some more helpful hints on how to speak English properly...
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Lilapsophobia
It's the fear of tornadoes. And I seriously think I'm developing it.
I don't want to go into details...in fact, I'm about to fall asleep from sleeping medication I took to calm myself down/help me sleep.
So...yeah. Right now I just want it to be Thursday (severe weather is supposed to happen tomorrow). Nothing more to say today, really...
I don't want to go into details...in fact, I'm about to fall asleep from sleeping medication I took to calm myself down/help me sleep.
So...yeah. Right now I just want it to be Thursday (severe weather is supposed to happen tomorrow). Nothing more to say today, really...
Monday, May 23, 2011
I Love French Food.
I realize that I never informed you all of the best meal of my whole life ever which I ate the other day. Or, at least, the best meal I've eaten this year. So, since my day included little of great interest, let me introduce you to the best thing I ever ate (this year):
Source: La Bonne Bouchee French Cafe and Bakery, located in Creve Coeur, Missouri
Dinner Companion: Jessica, the High School Best Friend
This meal comes to you in three courses.
Course One: French Onion Soup (authentic French style with cheese melted all over the dish)
Course Two: Les Crepes aux Fruits de Mer et aux Epinards (Crepes with Seafood and Spinach)
Course Three: Chocolate Croissant
It was FABULOUS. Seriously. I would eat this meal every day if I could. In fact, one of my life goals is to learn how to make crepes. I attempted it once and failed spectacularly. I mentioned to my mom recently that I might attempt the crepe-making again, and her words were: "Oh don't do that in your apartment, you won't get your deposit back." Still, I may give it a go...it can't be as bad as the corn cake fiasco of October 2010. I'd love to be able to cook the melty-cheese soup myself, but I don't think I have a dish big enough. Which is too bad, because it's all kinds of tasty. As for the pastry, I have access to several La Madeleine bakeries in Dallas, and just downloaded all these ridiculous pastry recipes from the internet that I want to give a try...including one that uses melted-down fruit roll-ups for its filling. Not quite as classy as the products of a French patisserie, but still it intrigues me...
In summary: French food rocks. Eat it as often as possible.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Hum...
Well friends, I did it again...put off writing a blog post until 1:00AM and preferring therefore to go to bed rather than write something detailed and awesome. The more awesome posts generally take me about 1-1.5 hours to create, and I don't have that kind of time.
Also, I'm rather worn down from the sadness of the world...you know how that is? This always happens to me around times of events of national significance; I start watching the news to follow one particular story, and get bombarded with stories of everything else that's messed up in the world. Between stories about Harold Camping's disillusioned followers trying to pick up the pieces of their destroyed lives, videos of tornado damage in southern Missouri, and news stories about children and the elderly being shot or murdered, it makes me want to crawl into my bed and hide from the world. What a horrible mess we live in; I kind of don't blame those Family Radio people for being excited that the end of the world was coming. If the end of the world means redemption of humanity and eternal life in paradise, bring it on. Life wasn't meant to be full of this much tragedy.
Sorry to go all depressing on you; just something that's been on my mind today...
Also, I'm rather worn down from the sadness of the world...you know how that is? This always happens to me around times of events of national significance; I start watching the news to follow one particular story, and get bombarded with stories of everything else that's messed up in the world. Between stories about Harold Camping's disillusioned followers trying to pick up the pieces of their destroyed lives, videos of tornado damage in southern Missouri, and news stories about children and the elderly being shot or murdered, it makes me want to crawl into my bed and hide from the world. What a horrible mess we live in; I kind of don't blame those Family Radio people for being excited that the end of the world was coming. If the end of the world means redemption of humanity and eternal life in paradise, bring it on. Life wasn't meant to be full of this much tragedy.
Sorry to go all depressing on you; just something that's been on my mind today...
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Happy May 21st!
I feel it is incumbent upon me to point out that the rapture didn't happen today. You've probably noticed that, seeing as you're sitting at your computer reading this blog. I'll probably have more to say on this lack-of-rapture in days to come...unfortunately, I haven't been feeling super great the past couple of days, and I think that my energy is better spent by sleeping and trying to heal from this mysterious ailment than by writing theological musings about eschatology and human nature and what the Bible says/does not say about the end of the world. In fact, I will write that post. But not today. Today I'm going to sleep and hope that I feel better in the morning.
It was also my sister's 20th birthday today. Yep...little sis is no longer a teenager. Oh, how old we've become...
It was also my sister's 20th birthday today. Yep...little sis is no longer a teenager. Oh, how old we've become...
Friday, May 20, 2011
My "Life is a Dashing and Bold Adventure"
...or so said my fortune cookie at Pei Wei the other day. I liked that fortune. It's quite complimentary and makes me seem like an exciting person, and it's way less creepy than my other recent fortune cookie that said "someone is watching you from afar."
In any case, today I got to share some stories from my dashing and bold adventure of a life back in the place where these bold adventures all started - Eureka High School. My former French teacher invited me to come and speak to the French IV classes about the world of French beyond the high school classroom...majoring in French, study abroad, using French in a career, and what have you. So I gathered up some photos, and popped off to EHS to have me a little blast from the past while potentially inspiring some teenagers.
As soon as I stepped in the door, into the commons, it was like I had stepped back in time. That sounds cliche, but I'm not just talking about the building here. I'm talking about the vibrant energy of high school life that pervades the place. I happened to arrive right in the midst of lunch hour/passing time, so as soon as I walked in there were kids EVERYWHERE, moving in the same giant clusters that we always moved in, forcing me to dodge around groups just like I always used to do (I always seemed to be moving against the tide - symbolic?). Still, I got over to the office, signed myself in, got my fancy "Visitor" badge, and met my old French teacher (and favorite high school teacher), Madame Denure.
Me and Madame go way back. Or, at least, we go back to 2003, when I first had her for a teacher. She was my teacher for French II/III (my sophomore and junior years), and her class really laid the foundation for my future language studies. Like I always told my tutorees, if you don't get the basics down, you can never speak the language. Well, I learned the basics at EHS, and it definitely served me well. Today, Madame Denure actually pulled out an old video cassette (yeah, video cassette) of one of my group projects from French III - a "newscast" of sorts. And there I was, all high-school-y and speaking in French, reading my speech off a sheet of paper in choppy, vaguely mispronounced French. That video alone was awesome to see, because it really showed me how far I've come in my French speaking ability. It also provided an ego-boost before speaking to the high schoolers today...I may read, write, and translate French all the time, but I haven't spoken it extemporaneously and for an extended period of time for about 7 months, so I was a bit nervous.
My first trip to France in 2005 was also under the guidance of Madame Denure, who led a group of about 20 EHS students on a two-week tour of the Loire Valley/Normandy regions of France. She was hugely encouraging to me during that trip (particularly the night before my host family stay, when I completely dissolved into a ball of panic). That trip was the start of my international travels (not counting a family excursion to Toronto when I was about 7) - you might say it was the first "dashing and bold adventure" of my life. So yes, it was wonderful seeing Madame Denure again today, and reminiscing about all those things.
I really enjoyed speaking to the high school kids...they were surprisingly enthusiastic and engaged, and I think that a vast majority of them were following my French fairly well. I even got them to laugh several times at things I said IN FRENCH, which is good for two reasons: first, because it proves they understood what I was saying, and second, because it shows that my boundless wit transcends languages. Fabulous. I also had a sizable slideshow of photos that were fun visual aids and helped keep the kids engaged. They particularly liked seeing Vaux-le-Vicomte, where The Man in the Iron Mask was filmed; it turns out that Madame Denure's classes watched that movie this week! How ironic is that? Then again, it IS the best film of all time, so it's only natural that people should be watching it all the time.
After speaking to two classes, Madame Denure took me on a tour of the renovations they've made to EHS over the last five years. To any past Eureka-nites who might be reading this, you have GOT to get yourself in this building to snoop around. It's crazy...like the school has just exploded. It's absolutely massive, and everything is all shuffled around. There are foreign language classrooms where the library used to be, a library where the art classrooms used to be, art classrooms where the math classrooms used to be, and math classrooms hovering above the school on the second floor (yeah, second floor) of a hallway they built connecting the back ends of the language arts/history hallways. The music wing has exploded too, with the band room expanding out the back door where we used to practice for Color Guard, and the choir room where the band room once was. Hallways everywhere are expanded or lengthened, there's classrooms tucked in everywhere...it's really remarkable. And bizarre. It was really cool to see.
So that was my day today, when my dashing and bold adventure of a life went back to its roots to talk about the things that have happened since. It's funny, really...the general attitude toward high school foreign language classes tends to be one of "that's nice", or "just something you have to get through." But in reality, my life would have been entirely different if I hadn't taken those French classes at EHS. Besides the obvious fact that I likely wouldn't be bilingual today, I also wouldn't have had the opportunity to study in Paris for a semester or immerse myself in Quebecoise life for a few weeks. I wouldn't have pushed my leadership abilities as a president of my college French club, and I wouldn't know of the wonderful delights of La Bonne Bouchee bakery down in Creve Coeur. I certainly wouldn't have my job with the CCFOF, and I doubt that I would have nearly the understanding of the intricacies of the interaction of religion and secularity that I possess. My final religion paper wouldn't have taken Islam and the French Identity for it's topic, and it's likely that my knowledge of and compassion for the plight of Muslim immigrants in France would be far less than they are. I may not have been a fluent French speaker after my high school French classes, but my high school French experience definitely laid the foundations for something much greater to unfold.
All those dashing and bold adventures have to start somewhere, after all :)
In any case, today I got to share some stories from my dashing and bold adventure of a life back in the place where these bold adventures all started - Eureka High School. My former French teacher invited me to come and speak to the French IV classes about the world of French beyond the high school classroom...majoring in French, study abroad, using French in a career, and what have you. So I gathered up some photos, and popped off to EHS to have me a little blast from the past while potentially inspiring some teenagers.
As soon as I stepped in the door, into the commons, it was like I had stepped back in time. That sounds cliche, but I'm not just talking about the building here. I'm talking about the vibrant energy of high school life that pervades the place. I happened to arrive right in the midst of lunch hour/passing time, so as soon as I walked in there were kids EVERYWHERE, moving in the same giant clusters that we always moved in, forcing me to dodge around groups just like I always used to do (I always seemed to be moving against the tide - symbolic?). Still, I got over to the office, signed myself in, got my fancy "Visitor" badge, and met my old French teacher (and favorite high school teacher), Madame Denure.
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| Madame et moi, 2005 |
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| Madame et moi, 2011 |
I really enjoyed speaking to the high school kids...they were surprisingly enthusiastic and engaged, and I think that a vast majority of them were following my French fairly well. I even got them to laugh several times at things I said IN FRENCH, which is good for two reasons: first, because it proves they understood what I was saying, and second, because it shows that my boundless wit transcends languages. Fabulous. I also had a sizable slideshow of photos that were fun visual aids and helped keep the kids engaged. They particularly liked seeing Vaux-le-Vicomte, where The Man in the Iron Mask was filmed; it turns out that Madame Denure's classes watched that movie this week! How ironic is that? Then again, it IS the best film of all time, so it's only natural that people should be watching it all the time.
After speaking to two classes, Madame Denure took me on a tour of the renovations they've made to EHS over the last five years. To any past Eureka-nites who might be reading this, you have GOT to get yourself in this building to snoop around. It's crazy...like the school has just exploded. It's absolutely massive, and everything is all shuffled around. There are foreign language classrooms where the library used to be, a library where the art classrooms used to be, art classrooms where the math classrooms used to be, and math classrooms hovering above the school on the second floor (yeah, second floor) of a hallway they built connecting the back ends of the language arts/history hallways. The music wing has exploded too, with the band room expanding out the back door where we used to practice for Color Guard, and the choir room where the band room once was. Hallways everywhere are expanded or lengthened, there's classrooms tucked in everywhere...it's really remarkable. And bizarre. It was really cool to see.
So that was my day today, when my dashing and bold adventure of a life went back to its roots to talk about the things that have happened since. It's funny, really...the general attitude toward high school foreign language classes tends to be one of "that's nice", or "just something you have to get through." But in reality, my life would have been entirely different if I hadn't taken those French classes at EHS. Besides the obvious fact that I likely wouldn't be bilingual today, I also wouldn't have had the opportunity to study in Paris for a semester or immerse myself in Quebecoise life for a few weeks. I wouldn't have pushed my leadership abilities as a president of my college French club, and I wouldn't know of the wonderful delights of La Bonne Bouchee bakery down in Creve Coeur. I certainly wouldn't have my job with the CCFOF, and I doubt that I would have nearly the understanding of the intricacies of the interaction of religion and secularity that I possess. My final religion paper wouldn't have taken Islam and the French Identity for it's topic, and it's likely that my knowledge of and compassion for the plight of Muslim immigrants in France would be far less than they are. I may not have been a fluent French speaker after my high school French classes, but my high school French experience definitely laid the foundations for something much greater to unfold.
All those dashing and bold adventures have to start somewhere, after all :)
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| 2005 2009 |
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Less than Fabulous
Today was less than fabulous. I don't really want to get into it, but suffice to say that I was depressed for basically the entire day, and subsequently spent most of it camped out in my room, sleeping, working, interneting, and the like.
I'm glad today is over.
I'm glad today is over.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Lazy Day
In true vacation mode, I did very little of anything of consequence today. Let's see how the day played out, shall we?
-Slept until noon
-Ate a Pop Tart
-Played an old "Sims" video game
Then there's a big gap in my memory at this point, indicating just how pointless most of my activity was...I assume this was likely filled with Facebook or YouTube of some kind, but I'm drawing a blank for real details.
Anyway, after that period of whatever it was that I was doing, I finally got the initiative to leave the house (along with my sister) in favor of Panera (aka St. Louis Bread Co., since I'm up in Missouri at the moment). I DESPERATELY need to make up work hours this month, and coffee shops always seem to stimulate productivity. Indeed, this was so, and with the help of a coffee, a pastry, and my sister jabbering about strange Yahoo news stories, I managed to get a good amount of work done. Two thumbs up for productivity.
Back home for a bit, I continued playing the "Sims" game with some TV show going in the background, until eventually Hannah and I called in a Chinese carry-out order, retrieved Harry Potter 7 from Redbox (my copy is in Dallas), acquired said Chinese food, and ate said food while watching said movie. We then watched television forever, until I eventually wandered upstairs, took a shower, and wrote this blog.
How very exciting a day it was...
Now it's time for bed. Goodnight world :)
-Slept until noon
-Ate a Pop Tart
-Played an old "Sims" video game
Then there's a big gap in my memory at this point, indicating just how pointless most of my activity was...I assume this was likely filled with Facebook or YouTube of some kind, but I'm drawing a blank for real details.
Anyway, after that period of whatever it was that I was doing, I finally got the initiative to leave the house (along with my sister) in favor of Panera (aka St. Louis Bread Co., since I'm up in Missouri at the moment). I DESPERATELY need to make up work hours this month, and coffee shops always seem to stimulate productivity. Indeed, this was so, and with the help of a coffee, a pastry, and my sister jabbering about strange Yahoo news stories, I managed to get a good amount of work done. Two thumbs up for productivity.
Back home for a bit, I continued playing the "Sims" game with some TV show going in the background, until eventually Hannah and I called in a Chinese carry-out order, retrieved Harry Potter 7 from Redbox (my copy is in Dallas), acquired said Chinese food, and ate said food while watching said movie. We then watched television forever, until I eventually wandered upstairs, took a shower, and wrote this blog.
How very exciting a day it was...
Now it's time for bed. Goodnight world :)
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Things We Said in High School
In keeping with the reminiscent theme that the blog has taken as of late, I thought I would recall some specific moments, some specific words, that evoke my high school years. In January of 2006, my senior year, I started keeping a "quote book" of funny things that my friends said. I got the idea from my friend Colleen, who often included daily quotes in her Xanga posts (yeah, Xanga...remember that?) Anyway, I thought I'd treat you all to a sampling of high school conversations...this should be interesting.
-Jessica: "I think it's creepy that God always knows what you're thinking. That's an invasion of privacy. Hasn't He ever read the constitution?"
(in Chem lab, trying to distract Jon so he doesn't bug Stephanie, who's doing a titration)
-Me: "So, where do you want to live when you're older?"
-Jon: "I don't know...I'd like to clear my own land like my parents did."
-Me: "What, like, a couple acres?"
-Jon: "Couple hundred."
-Me: "You gonna farm it?"
-Jon: "No...garden."
-Me: "Well, what is a farm but a very large garden?"
-Stephanie: "That's very poetic."
-Me: "Why, thank you!"
-Jon: "I don't get it."
(watching Corpse Bride)
-Jessica: "Hey, how does she have a butt if she's so skeletal??"
-Me: "I really don't think that's the point of the movie."
(in AP US History; Jon has just spilled pencil shavings all over his desk while he's taking notes)
-Jon: "Oh, crappio!!"
-Stephanie: "What did he just say?"
-Coach Clar (teacher): "It's best just to ignore him in these cases."
(in AP Chem)
-Mrs. Dotta (teacher): "So, who can think of a common household use for distilled water?"
-Stephanie: "Sea monkeys!!"
-Class: (stifled laughter)
-Student: "Irons?"
-Mrs. Dotta: "Yes, they use distilled water in irons to prevent the buildup of material residue...(exasperated mutter) sea monkeys..."
(in AP US History)
-Coach Clar: "During this time, we'll start to see a lot of dams being built. D'you like saying that in class, Sean? Dams? Makes you feel important? Makes you feel like you're getting away with something?"
-Sean: "Uh...no..."
-Jon: "HEY, it's like that joke about the fish! Coach Clar, do you know that joke? About the fish that ran into the wall?!?!"
-Coach Clar: "NOOOOOO!!"
-Jon: "OK, what did the fish say..."
-Coach Clar: "I can figure it out!!"
(at Sonic)
-Colleen: "Hey, this corndog really IS hot and delicious...just like me!!"
(in AP US History, discussing actors of the early 1900s)
-Coach Clar: "So, you have your Greta Garbos, and Marlon Brandos..."
-Student: "Audrey Hepburn..."
-Jon: "Oh, and Hugh Grant."
-Class: (laughter)
-Student: "Jon!! He's an actor now!"
-Jon: "Oh...I always get him mixed up."
(at the Art Museum)
-Me: "I love African Art. I really do..."
-Ashley: "What?"
-Me: "I love African Art, I really do."
-Nick: "Oh, I thought you said, 'African Art, foo foo.'"
-Ashley: "I thought she said, 'I have to go to the restroom.'"
-Me: "Apparently I need to work on my enunciation..."
(driving)
-Nick: "Why is my windshield all fogged up on the inside?"
-Ashley: "It's because I'm so hott. My sexiness is just too much for this car."
(driving home from a Chinese restaurant)
-Me: "Did you just wave at the guy in that truck?"
-Hannah: "Yeah. Chinese food does ca-RAY-zy things to you!"
(driving in the car)
-Hannah: "You know what happens every time I think of bananas foster?"
-Mom: "An angel gets its wings?"
(driving around)
-Jessica: "You know, I really don't know why people do drugs when we have marshmallows"
(watching The Da Vinci Code; a man has just been shot in the stomach)
-Jessica: "Ugh, that's a horrible place to get shot, too..."
-Me: "What, in the Louvre?"
-Jessica: "Uh, no..in the gut."
-Me: "Oh..."
(talking about every hairbrush Colleen's ever had)
-Me: "How do you have room for all this in your brain??"
-Colleen: "Well see, I push out all that unneeded stuff like AP Euro and Calculus..."
(in Chem lab)
-Stephanie: "OH MY GOSH, you're burning the cord!!"
-Me: "Ah!! Why didn't we notice it was on the hot plate?"
-Carl: "I thought I smelled something burning..."
-Stephanie: "I'll go get Mr. Mac..." (brings him back)
-Mr. McIlwee: "OK, go ask Mr. Strickland for some electrical tape, and don't let Jon near the hot plate anymore."
-Jon: "Hey, it's not my fault!"
-Stephanie: "Uh, yeah it is!"
-Me: "At least he knows how to pump soap...he doesn't squeeze the bottle like you did."
-Stephanie: (laughs) "Oh yeah..."
-Me: "Oh! Show Mr. Mac how you tried to get the soap out!"
-Stephanie: "OK! Mr. Mac, look!" (squeezes soap bottle)
-Mr. McIlwee: (to me) "Make blonde jokes, make short jokes, anything is appropriate right now."
...as you may have figured out, our lab group was pretty dysfunctional, and our AP US History class was occasionally less than productive. But who doesn't like a little reminiscing, right? :)
-Jessica: "I think it's creepy that God always knows what you're thinking. That's an invasion of privacy. Hasn't He ever read the constitution?"
(in Chem lab, trying to distract Jon so he doesn't bug Stephanie, who's doing a titration)
-Me: "So, where do you want to live when you're older?"
-Jon: "I don't know...I'd like to clear my own land like my parents did."
-Me: "What, like, a couple acres?"
-Jon: "Couple hundred."
-Me: "You gonna farm it?"
-Jon: "No...garden."
-Me: "Well, what is a farm but a very large garden?"
-Stephanie: "That's very poetic."
-Me: "Why, thank you!"
-Jon: "I don't get it."
(watching Corpse Bride)
-Jessica: "Hey, how does she have a butt if she's so skeletal??"
-Me: "I really don't think that's the point of the movie."
(in AP US History; Jon has just spilled pencil shavings all over his desk while he's taking notes)
-Jon: "Oh, crappio!!"
-Stephanie: "What did he just say?"
-Coach Clar (teacher): "It's best just to ignore him in these cases."
(in AP Chem)
-Mrs. Dotta (teacher): "So, who can think of a common household use for distilled water?"
-Stephanie: "Sea monkeys!!"
-Class: (stifled laughter)
-Student: "Irons?"
-Mrs. Dotta: "Yes, they use distilled water in irons to prevent the buildup of material residue...(exasperated mutter) sea monkeys..."
(in AP US History)
-Coach Clar: "During this time, we'll start to see a lot of dams being built. D'you like saying that in class, Sean? Dams? Makes you feel important? Makes you feel like you're getting away with something?"
-Sean: "Uh...no..."
-Jon: "HEY, it's like that joke about the fish! Coach Clar, do you know that joke? About the fish that ran into the wall?!?!"
-Coach Clar: "NOOOOOO!!"
-Jon: "OK, what did the fish say..."
-Coach Clar: "I can figure it out!!"
(at Sonic)
-Colleen: "Hey, this corndog really IS hot and delicious...just like me!!"
(in AP US History, discussing actors of the early 1900s)
-Coach Clar: "So, you have your Greta Garbos, and Marlon Brandos..."
-Student: "Audrey Hepburn..."
-Jon: "Oh, and Hugh Grant."
-Class: (laughter)
-Student: "Jon!! He's an actor now!"
-Jon: "Oh...I always get him mixed up."
(at the Art Museum)
-Me: "I love African Art. I really do..."
-Ashley: "What?"
-Me: "I love African Art, I really do."
-Nick: "Oh, I thought you said, 'African Art, foo foo.'"
-Ashley: "I thought she said, 'I have to go to the restroom.'"
-Me: "Apparently I need to work on my enunciation..."
(driving)
-Nick: "Why is my windshield all fogged up on the inside?"
-Ashley: "It's because I'm so hott. My sexiness is just too much for this car."
(driving home from a Chinese restaurant)
-Me: "Did you just wave at the guy in that truck?"
-Hannah: "Yeah. Chinese food does ca-RAY-zy things to you!"
(driving in the car)
-Hannah: "You know what happens every time I think of bananas foster?"
-Mom: "An angel gets its wings?"
(driving around)
-Jessica: "You know, I really don't know why people do drugs when we have marshmallows"
(watching The Da Vinci Code; a man has just been shot in the stomach)
-Jessica: "Ugh, that's a horrible place to get shot, too..."
-Me: "What, in the Louvre?"
-Jessica: "Uh, no..in the gut."
-Me: "Oh..."
(talking about every hairbrush Colleen's ever had)
-Me: "How do you have room for all this in your brain??"
-Colleen: "Well see, I push out all that unneeded stuff like AP Euro and Calculus..."
(in Chem lab)
-Stephanie: "OH MY GOSH, you're burning the cord!!"
-Me: "Ah!! Why didn't we notice it was on the hot plate?"
-Carl: "I thought I smelled something burning..."
-Stephanie: "I'll go get Mr. Mac..." (brings him back)
-Mr. McIlwee: "OK, go ask Mr. Strickland for some electrical tape, and don't let Jon near the hot plate anymore."
-Jon: "Hey, it's not my fault!"
-Stephanie: "Uh, yeah it is!"
-Me: "At least he knows how to pump soap...he doesn't squeeze the bottle like you did."
-Stephanie: (laughs) "Oh yeah..."
-Me: "Oh! Show Mr. Mac how you tried to get the soap out!"
-Stephanie: "OK! Mr. Mac, look!" (squeezes soap bottle)
-Mr. McIlwee: (to me) "Make blonde jokes, make short jokes, anything is appropriate right now."
...as you may have figured out, our lab group was pretty dysfunctional, and our AP US History class was occasionally less than productive. But who doesn't like a little reminiscing, right? :)
Monday, May 16, 2011
A Tribute to 10 Years of Friendship
Today's blog post goes out to my friends Nick and Ashely, with whom I spent the day, and with whom I have been friends since we were 13 (meaning this is our 10-year anniversary of friendship). I seriously love these people. So today's post is a tribute to them, and to friendship.
The remarkable thing about our friendship is simply the fact that we've managed to remain friends. We met in eighth grade, when we were all rerouted from our existing middle schools to the brand new middle school they built in between the two. We met entirely by chance, happening to sit at opposite ends of the same lunch table with our respective friends. Eventually, and inevitably, our two groups merged into one group of friends. The group was bigger then, but you know how people come and go in our lives - somehow, Nick and Ashley have managed to stick around. I'm not even sure that we really had any classes together during that time. It was, essentially, just lunches that we spent together, and the occasional school dance.
After that one year, we split off from each other (again, courtesy of school district attendance areas). Nick and Ashley went off to Lafayette High School, while I went off to Eureka High School. You'd think that would be the end of things...I mean, what random one-year middle school friendships really last?
Apparently, ours does - for the last nine years, since we graduated from WMS, we've managed to keep getting together regularly, even if only twice a year, maintaining and cultivating our friendship into one that I truly cherish in my life. It's really remarkable how every time we get together, we pick up exactly where we left off, laughing and joking with each other like always.
It's funny how we've grown up. Where our conversations used to consist of middle school gossip and judging the attractiveness of Pirates of the Caribbean actors (on my and Ashley's part, Nick just put up with us in annoyance), we spent our dinner conversation tonight talking about our career aspirations and relationships. We also spent a fair amount of time contemplating how strange it was that we were friends - had the new middle school not been built, or had we sat at separate lunch tables, we would never have become friends. Instead of laughing together over a Pei Wei dinner, we'd be at separate tables, maybe noting casually to our dinner partners that we'd gone to middle school with "that girl/guy over there."
That's a weird sort of thing to think about - how people's lives come together and form relationships, and how those relationships would be nonexistent if certain circumstances were changed. How would my life be different if I hadn't moved to Missouri as a baby, or if I hadn't changed schools multiple times, or if I'd gone to a different college or graduate school?
I think of all the relationships I've built with people, and I think about how I've managed to maintain some of them across significant distances, and I'm incredibly thankful for the life that I have had, and for the people that have entered into that life.
But, sometimes, I still wonder about those relationships I'll never have. I wonder if, had my life gone differently, I would have been friends with that stranger across the restaurant.
In any case, sometimes you're lucky enough to happen upon a friendship of small foundations but great persistence. Nick, Ashley, and I have that type of friendship. I have no doubt that, even if our lives go different ways, that we could get back together years from now and still enjoy each others' company. That is a truly special type of friendship.
So here's to middle-school friendships that stand the test of time. Here's to Nick and Ashley. And friends, next time we get together, let's go to Disney World.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Sleep All Day
I quite literally slept all day.
OK, that's not true. But, I DID take an epic 3 hour nap in the middle of the afternoon that effectively swallowed up the day, and a good deal of the parts that were not swallowed up were passed just laying about.
Actually, today looked quite a bit like my average Sunday on vacation at home: I went to church, laid around, ate lunch, internet-ed, slept for 3 hours, made dinner plans that fell through, laid around some more, played the violin plaintively for about an hour (that actually doesn't usually happen, it was an unusual occurrence), went to Steak and Shake with my sister, laid around, played (and lost) Scrabble with the family, worked for an hour, and then laid around and mocked Canadian teenage TV programming with my sister.
You can perhaps see where laying around was a great part of my day, and why adding on a 3-hour nap made it feel like I literally slept all day.
Happily, tomorrow will NOT be a day of sleeping all day, but will be a day of socializing and exotic animals. Yeah. Stay tuned.
OK, that's not true. But, I DID take an epic 3 hour nap in the middle of the afternoon that effectively swallowed up the day, and a good deal of the parts that were not swallowed up were passed just laying about.
Actually, today looked quite a bit like my average Sunday on vacation at home: I went to church, laid around, ate lunch, internet-ed, slept for 3 hours, made dinner plans that fell through, laid around some more, played the violin plaintively for about an hour (that actually doesn't usually happen, it was an unusual occurrence), went to Steak and Shake with my sister, laid around, played (and lost) Scrabble with the family, worked for an hour, and then laid around and mocked Canadian teenage TV programming with my sister.
You can perhaps see where laying around was a great part of my day, and why adding on a 3-hour nap made it feel like I literally slept all day.
Happily, tomorrow will NOT be a day of sleeping all day, but will be a day of socializing and exotic animals. Yeah. Stay tuned.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Home is an Odd Phenomenon.
I am SUPER happy to be home. I want to get that out in the open right away. But every time I come home, for the first few days, it's kind of weird.
For one thing, it just feels small. Maybe it's because I know each and every corner and back road and intersection in the general area, or maybe it's because most things manage to look exactly the same as they did when I left them, or maybe it's because there's less cars and the roads and buildings are smaller than Dallas. But it feels small. And I feel like I'm bigger than this town now.
For another thing, being back home is like taking a trip back to the past. This is good for the nostalgia quotient, but it also has this weird ability to recall otherwise well-buried memories, emotions, or conflicts to the surface, whether good or bad. In the case of the latter, I often get upset or angry about things that I thought I'd moved past. I then end up replaying an assortment of cathartic YouTube videos (today it was Glee's version of Rolling in the Deep) and playing melancholy tunes on my old violin or the family piano (today it was "Weep No More You Sad Fountains" by Patrick Doyle). And eventually I get over it, generally by going to bed or getting together with an old friend.
Thirdly, I'm worlds more confident here than I am in my normal life. This might be because of the familiarity of everything, or it might be because I fancy myself to be a sophisticated young woman who went off to "the big city" to do "big things"...but somehow I just feel a lot more awesome than usual when I'm out and about.
In summary, being home is weird.
Out of these three points, I think it's the second one that really gets me. I mentioned yesterday that my bedroom is essentially "frozen in time", and it is. Literally every object in this room tells a story, from my grandfather's childhood French textbook, to the caps, honor cords, and diplomas of two graduations, to the plastic leis I wore at my 8th grade dance. There are the nesting dolls I've had since before I can remember, the pressed flowers I picked with my Dad in middle school and arranged in a picture frame, the gold microphone my friend Lucy gave me last year. There is the collection of dried roses on my shelf - received in times of sisterhood, of sadness, and of hope. Even the remaining unpacked boxes from my undergraduate years whisper quietly of a period of my life that still remains largely unpacked, its contents still waiting to be fully integrated into my present life. Surrounded by so many things, I'm faced not just with the day-to-day of my present life...but with my life.
All of my dreams, all of my goals, all of my life started from here. I think of my childhood self, of my adolescent desires and concerns, and I think about my present life, and it is the weirdest thing in the world to think about how my past-self knew nothing of my present. The quiet six year-old afraid to talk to people had no idea that she would speak French one day. The twelve year-old misfit on the outskirts of Sunday School would never have contemplated a career in ministry, much less children's/youth ministry (the current post-masters plan). The seventeen year-old hoping desperately to be asked to prom knew nothing of the other loves (and losses) that would cross her path. And even now, sitting on the same bed where I dreamed my earliest dreams, does my twenty-two year-old self know anything about what is going to come in the rest of her life?
Let's be serious about this: we can plan all we want, we can get all the degrees we want...but in the end, none of us really know what is going to happen. I have this tendency to think of my life in terms of my past, sometimes positively in the form of maintaining relationships with people, but sometimes negatively, by boxing myself into what I have been, and worrying that, because I haven't been a certain thing yet in my life, there's no way I could be that thing in the future. But the future is a wide open space that literally anything can fall into...why consider it in terms of the past?
I think home, for me, is kind of like a trampoline - the higher I jump, the more surprised I am to find myself back at the starting point. But eventually I launch away from home again, higher each time. Take away home, though, take away the past, and you crash. The past must be remembered, acknowledged, and learned from...but it also must be left behind to reach new and exciting heights.
Still, it's always a bit weird to hit that trampoline...and it's always a bit weird to step back into the past, for however brief a time.
For one thing, it just feels small. Maybe it's because I know each and every corner and back road and intersection in the general area, or maybe it's because most things manage to look exactly the same as they did when I left them, or maybe it's because there's less cars and the roads and buildings are smaller than Dallas. But it feels small. And I feel like I'm bigger than this town now.
For another thing, being back home is like taking a trip back to the past. This is good for the nostalgia quotient, but it also has this weird ability to recall otherwise well-buried memories, emotions, or conflicts to the surface, whether good or bad. In the case of the latter, I often get upset or angry about things that I thought I'd moved past. I then end up replaying an assortment of cathartic YouTube videos (today it was Glee's version of Rolling in the Deep) and playing melancholy tunes on my old violin or the family piano (today it was "Weep No More You Sad Fountains" by Patrick Doyle). And eventually I get over it, generally by going to bed or getting together with an old friend.
Thirdly, I'm worlds more confident here than I am in my normal life. This might be because of the familiarity of everything, or it might be because I fancy myself to be a sophisticated young woman who went off to "the big city" to do "big things"...but somehow I just feel a lot more awesome than usual when I'm out and about.
In summary, being home is weird.
Out of these three points, I think it's the second one that really gets me. I mentioned yesterday that my bedroom is essentially "frozen in time", and it is. Literally every object in this room tells a story, from my grandfather's childhood French textbook, to the caps, honor cords, and diplomas of two graduations, to the plastic leis I wore at my 8th grade dance. There are the nesting dolls I've had since before I can remember, the pressed flowers I picked with my Dad in middle school and arranged in a picture frame, the gold microphone my friend Lucy gave me last year. There is the collection of dried roses on my shelf - received in times of sisterhood, of sadness, and of hope. Even the remaining unpacked boxes from my undergraduate years whisper quietly of a period of my life that still remains largely unpacked, its contents still waiting to be fully integrated into my present life. Surrounded by so many things, I'm faced not just with the day-to-day of my present life...but with my life.
All of my dreams, all of my goals, all of my life started from here. I think of my childhood self, of my adolescent desires and concerns, and I think about my present life, and it is the weirdest thing in the world to think about how my past-self knew nothing of my present. The quiet six year-old afraid to talk to people had no idea that she would speak French one day. The twelve year-old misfit on the outskirts of Sunday School would never have contemplated a career in ministry, much less children's/youth ministry (the current post-masters plan). The seventeen year-old hoping desperately to be asked to prom knew nothing of the other loves (and losses) that would cross her path. And even now, sitting on the same bed where I dreamed my earliest dreams, does my twenty-two year-old self know anything about what is going to come in the rest of her life?
Let's be serious about this: we can plan all we want, we can get all the degrees we want...but in the end, none of us really know what is going to happen. I have this tendency to think of my life in terms of my past, sometimes positively in the form of maintaining relationships with people, but sometimes negatively, by boxing myself into what I have been, and worrying that, because I haven't been a certain thing yet in my life, there's no way I could be that thing in the future. But the future is a wide open space that literally anything can fall into...why consider it in terms of the past?
I think home, for me, is kind of like a trampoline - the higher I jump, the more surprised I am to find myself back at the starting point. But eventually I launch away from home again, higher each time. Take away home, though, take away the past, and you crash. The past must be remembered, acknowledged, and learned from...but it also must be left behind to reach new and exciting heights.
Still, it's always a bit weird to hit that trampoline...and it's always a bit weird to step back into the past, for however brief a time.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Reading Frindle.
As I'm sure you're aware, (and if you are not aware, you soon will be), I am home for a 2.5-week vacation before summer classes start up. Being in the realm of my childhood, I have access to every possession and relic of my past that hasn't been thrown away or donated yet. Stepping into my room is like stepping into the past, frozen in time. You never really know what you'll find in there.
Last night, I found Frindle.
Since blogger was down, I opted for some extra reading time. I've been leisurely reading Pride and Prejudice on and off for about a month, but I'd left it downstairs in my backpack and didn't fancy journeying below to find it. My one-floor apartment has clearly spoiled me, and turned me against stairs. Besides, there are some nights were Jane Austen-esque English isn't calling out to one's tired mind, and last night was one of those nights. So, instead, I started poking around the bookshelf in my room, to see what I could find.
Let me introduce you to my adolescent-era bookshelf. It's a nondescript white thing with three shelfs, with the top shelf buckled in from the weight of the books sitting on top of it. Top shelf: Classic literature, alphabetized by author (what of it?). Here you'll find your Jane Austens, your Mark Twains, your William Shakespeares, etc. There is also currently a large stack of foreign books from my French Lit class last year occupying the front part of the shelf, along with a pocket German dictionary. On the middle shelf, you have your oversized souvenir/coffee table books, a small "non-fiction" section, and a collection of children's/young adult novels. The non-fiction and the fiction are separated by a giant jar of seashells, with a ceramic rendition of Aladdin and Jasmin on the flying carpet and a heavy gold metal teddy bear chilling alongside the books. The bottom shelf is reserved for scrapbooks, yearbooks, old CDs, and the three editions of Who's Who Among American High School Students books that we thought were necessary to own. Go figure.
As its title might suggest, Frindle was found peeking out on the middle shelf, amid the children's novels. I remembered that I loved Frindle as a kid, so I took the book off the shelf, and plopped down on my old twin-sized bed to read it.
For those of you not familiar with Frindle, let me give you a quick plot synopsis: Nick Allen, a fifth grade student, is one of those kids who is particularly good at distracting teachers and derailing their lesson plans enough to get through class with no homework assigned. One day, to stall for time, he asks his English teacher where words comes from, but instead of distracting her, the teacher gives him an assignment to report on the dictionary (which the teacher loves to the point of worship). After creating his report, Nick decides to make up a new word: frindle. By doing so, Nick wants to prove to his teacher that words are silly, and that even words that aren't in the dictionary can be as important as "real" words. He and his friends take the following oath: "From this day on and forever, I will never use the word 'pen' again. Instead, I will use the word 'frindle,' and will do everything possible so others will, too."
What unfolds is a "war of the words" between pen and frindle, with teachers on one side and students on the other. Eventually, the frindle affair catches media attention and catches the eye of product designers, and the word becomes more and more commonly used until, ten years later, Nick's made-up word winds up in the dictionary. It is at this point that Nick's fifth-grade teacher, the most anti-frindle of all, reveals in a ten-year old letter that she was rooting for frindle all along, and knew that her opposition to it would be the best aid in continuing its usage. It really is quite the clever story.
Reading Frindle last night, I was kind of amazed by it. I have this semi-secret ambition to be a published author (or at least, to write things that people will read, such as this blog), and I think it's awesome how Andrew Clements (the author) packed such important themes into such a simple story. I last read Frindle sometime around 1997 - the author had signed my copy of the book on that date, lending me the assumption that I received the book that Christmas from my grandmother, who always had some signed children's book on hand to give as a gift at Christmas to me or my sister. In 1997, I liked Frindle because it was a fun story about words, and about a teacher and a student who were against each other and became friends. Now, fourteen years later, I like Frindle because it shows how one person, one action, one small idea can change the world.
When you're a kid, you kind of believe that you'll change the world one day. At every graduation you encounter, this idea is reinforced, and it's not until you spread your wings and fly headfirst into that post-graduation brick wall that you realize that changing the world is harder than you think it is. I think this is primarily because, out in the real world, you start to realize just how small you actually are. I don't mean small physically, I mean small compared to society, to the world, to the universe. The voices that matter are the presidents and the celebrities of the world, and if you are neither a president nor a celebrity, and you spend most of your time in places where no one knows your name, effecting actual change becomes quite the daunting task. The big ideas of childhood get packed away in boxes while you deal with the day-to-day of "grown-up" life. When you start that new chapter of your life, away from family familiarities and college victories, and you become just so-and-so of apartment #238475, the weight of commonality starts to press on you, until by feeling like "one of the crowd" you start to lose sight of that individuality that once caused you to dream.
Who are YOU to change the world?
What can YOU possibly do?
You're JUST a person.
Nothing great is going to come of YOU.
Might as well give up now.
But then, there's Frindle: a story that reminds us that even the most silly of ideas, if taken under the right circumstances and leadership, and with the right dedication and integrity, can actually change things. The unusual can become usual, until people forget that the thing was ever unusual in the first place.
This was the other interesting idea put forth by Frindle: that even the normal things were made up by somebody, at some point, and they only seem normal because we decided they would be normal. Take this conversation between Nick and his teacher, Mrs. Granger:
"Nick swallowed hard, but he said, 'I don't think there's anything wrong with it. It's just fun, and it really is a real word. It's not a bad word, just different. And besides, it's how words really change, isn't it? That's what you said.'
Mrs. Granger sighed. 'It is how a word could be made up brand new, I suppose, but the word pen? Should it really be replaced by...by that other word? The word pen has a long, rich history. It comes from the Latin word for feather, pinna. It started to become our word for pen because quills made from feathers were some of the first writing tools ever made. It's a word that comes from somewhere. It makes sense, Nicholas.'
'But frindle makes just as much sense to me,' said Nick. 'And after all, didn't somebody just make up the word pinna, too?"
What sorts of things might we consider normal that are ripe for change, even if we may not realize it? Who is to say what is normal anyway? Who decided that a pen would be called a pen, and not called a frindle?
It's amazing to me how often we willingly try to live up to certain standards of "normalcy" in our lives, whether through beauty or fitness or education or occupation or salary or anything else. Do we even know where these standards came from? Who got to decide what would be normal, and what would not be? Why can't these things be changed? Moreover, why can't we change what is normal?
Quite a lot to think about, coming from a children's book.
It's amazing to me how often we willingly try to live up to certain standards of "normalcy" in our lives, whether through beauty or fitness or education or occupation or salary or anything else. Do we even know where these standards came from? Who got to decide what would be normal, and what would not be? Why can't these things be changed? Moreover, why can't we change what is normal?
Quite a lot to think about, coming from a children's book.
Sometimes, all it takes is one person who decides to make a change. One person, who has the leadership charisma to make others follow, and encounters the opposition necessary to make others take notice. One idea that catches on, spreading from one person to the next. All it takes is one.
So let's all go out there and change the world...one frindle at a time.
Blogger Died.
So I didn't post yesterday, because Blogger was temporarily down for some sort of maintenance of some kind. I'm going to write some other fabulous post, but in keeping with my oath to write every day, this little note will serve as yesterday's post.
:)
:)
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
So about that Dalai Lama.
Yes, I saw him. Here's how it went down, three days ago...
We began our Dalai Lama experience ("we" being me and my friends Miranda and Sarah) by hovering outside the auditorium in 90 degree heat/humidity, waiting for about an hour for the 25 security people guarding the entry to get permission to let us all in. The lecture was set for 2:30, but the auditorium doors would close at 2:00, so we got there around noon, anticipating a giant line similar to the ticket line of the previous week. But, it turns out that the doors didn't open until 1:00, so there we were, standing in the heat for an hour.
During this time, we caught a glimpse into the super-rich Dallas world that we always hear of but rarely encounter, as it occupies a plane of existence slightly above Fuzzy's Taco Shop. But get the Dalai Lama involved, and the Dallas elite are all over it. Example: While waiting to see the Dalai Lama, I met a real life "personal assistant." Not a personal business assistant, but an everyday-life assistant. While we were waiting to go in, this guy in his mid-twenties comes up and asks if we were in line to go in. We replied that there wasn't really a "line" per se, just many clusters of people, but that he was welcome to stand with us. Naturally, we started chatting. It was soon revealed that he wasn't actually going inside, but was waiting in line "for his boss." He explained that for the past 2.5 years, he's been working as a personal assistant for this couple, "taking care of the iPods and iPads and things" (that's a direct quote). I don't know how much care an iPod actually requires; I just stick mine in my iPod speaker where it charges itself until I unplug it and throw it in my gym bag. But apparently such mundane things are just too difficult for the upper crust to handle, and so they hire someone else out to keep track of their possessions and stand in line for them. The personal assistant guy seemed happy enough though (despite making a few cracks at his employers throughout our conversation) - I'd imagine he gets paid pretty well. Eventually, a skinny woman with whitish-blonde hair showed up, wearing a hat that fell somewhere between Kentucky Derby and royal wedding caliber. Personal assistant guy handed her a bottle of water, and then bopped off to his next task.
There was a great number of the Dallas elite standing with us outside the auditorium, and all very displeased to be doing so...you could tell that standing around waiting was "beneath" them, and it was made all the more difficult by the fact that there was no established line, so to speak. When the doors finally did open, we were nearly trampled as the crowd swooshed in around us...but somehow we got in, got ourselves up to the middle balcony, and managed to get good seats. At that point, we still had an hour left to wait, so we amused ourselves by posing hypothetical "If you were the Dalai Lama" questions to one another, such as "If you were the Dalai Lama, what would your favorite pastry be?" (lemon danish), and "If you were the Dalai Lama, would you prefer chicken nuggets or chicken sandwiches?" (chicken nuggets). This later gave way to a rousing game of find-that-word-in-the-program, which got surprisingly competitive and amused us for a good twenty minutes. Somewhere in the middle of all this, a group of people walked in on the ground floor and people started clapping, but it wasn't the Dalai Lama and so we kept on with our shenanigans.
Finally the curtain opens, to reveal quite the elaborate setup of foliage against a fluorescent blue and yellow backdrop, with a white sofa on a rug in the middle of the stage and a podium off to the right and two rows of chairs off to the left. Take away the podium and chairs, and it could have been an Oprah set. The SMU notables walk out, and some guy takes the podium and starts the usual post-lecture talking common to all university speakers, thanking all the people on the board and other notable people for being there. This was all rather uninteresting until he said, "...and we are honored to have among us a very close friend of the Dalai Lama, the former first lady Laura Bush." And at those words, our ENTIRE balcony swelled up to its feet and peered down over the balcony, among comments of "LAURA BUSH IS DOWN THERE???" It then became clear that the clapping earlier had been for her. And sure enough, there she was, Laura Bush, waving happily at the audience in a light green pantsuit. It was cool. Unexpected famous-person sightings are always welcome in my life.
And then the podium guy welcomed out His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama. The crowd stood up again, cheering and clapping enthusiastically, and out walked Tenzin Gyatso, the Dalai Lama, a little old Tibetan man in a dark red monastic robe with gold accents. He looked exactly like you would expect the Dalai Lama to look. Reaching the row of chairs, he put his hands together and bowed solemnly to the audience, most of whom returned the gesture. And then, all of a sudden, he reached inside his robe and pulled out a bright red SMU baseball cap, and plopped it on his head, giving a mischievous little grin. The cheers doubled.
The podium guy (who I've determined in retrospect is the president of SMU) then continued with the presentation of an honorary Doctorate of Humane Letters to the Dalai Lama. As I've said before, I always think honorary degrees are a bit silly, but I suppose it's a nice gesture of the university's appreciation and acknowledgement of the recipient's work. Still, the Dalai Lama giggled a bit as they presented it to him (he's quite the giggly little old man). Maybe he shares my sentiment regarding honorary degrees.
It may be prudent at this point to give you some basic info about the Dalai Lama. He is the spiritual leader of Tibet, and just recently resigned as Tibet's political leader. He was identified as the Dalai Lama when he was two years old, but didn't take effective reign until he was 15 - still pretty young, when you consider that he was carrying out negotiations with Mao Zedong when he was just 19. In Tibetan Buddhism, it is believed that the Dalai Lama is the manifestation of the bodhisattva of compassion, and has been consistently reincarnated since the 14th century. So, after one Dalai Lama dies, the high-up teachers of Tibetan Buddhism go searching among babies that are born close after for the reincarnation of the Dalai Lama, gauging his recognition of the previous Dalai Lama's possessions and of certain people to determine who that reincarnation is. It's all quite fascinating.
After getting his honorary degree, the Dalai Lama spoke. I have to admit, I had trouble understanding him. Something about the acoustics of the auditorium, mixed with the overwhelming post-final sleepiness that hit me right in the middle of the lecture made the Dalai Lama's Tibetan-accented English really hard for me to comprehend. This was rather disappointing, I must say, but it's really my fault (I think the sleepiness was the main problem), and shouldn't be held against the Dalai Lama; because, when I DID understand him, everything he said was very eloquent. His words have that sort of profound simplicity that you would expect from a world spiritual leader. He mostly spoke to world peace, through the praising of pure democracy and a global citizenship that is not so hung up on divisions. "Basically, we are same human being," he said, "Different faith, different race, different language. But when we come from mother's womb, no difference of religion, no difference of culture." The divisions of the world are really those we create among us; babies, at the earliest stage of life, aren't concerned about these things. I thought that was a unique perspective, and I really appreciated it.
The audience was also largely comprised of high school students, and so the Dalai Lama took the time to address them directly. He told them that his generation, the grown-ups, have left the world in "quite a mess" for them - and that it's up to them to decide if they want to make the world happier, or unhappier. I loved that. What a simple way to understand such a complex world, and to understand one's place and role in that world.
It wasn't a very long lecture, but it was well worth it. I'm so thankful I had the opportunity to hear the Dalai Lama speak...what a unique opportunity! I must say, I don't think I ever saw that coming on the trajectory of my life. But I'm very happy to have had such an awesome experience :)
If you want to hear the Dalai Lama's lecture, follow this link.
We began our Dalai Lama experience ("we" being me and my friends Miranda and Sarah) by hovering outside the auditorium in 90 degree heat/humidity, waiting for about an hour for the 25 security people guarding the entry to get permission to let us all in. The lecture was set for 2:30, but the auditorium doors would close at 2:00, so we got there around noon, anticipating a giant line similar to the ticket line of the previous week. But, it turns out that the doors didn't open until 1:00, so there we were, standing in the heat for an hour.
During this time, we caught a glimpse into the super-rich Dallas world that we always hear of but rarely encounter, as it occupies a plane of existence slightly above Fuzzy's Taco Shop. But get the Dalai Lama involved, and the Dallas elite are all over it. Example: While waiting to see the Dalai Lama, I met a real life "personal assistant." Not a personal business assistant, but an everyday-life assistant. While we were waiting to go in, this guy in his mid-twenties comes up and asks if we were in line to go in. We replied that there wasn't really a "line" per se, just many clusters of people, but that he was welcome to stand with us. Naturally, we started chatting. It was soon revealed that he wasn't actually going inside, but was waiting in line "for his boss." He explained that for the past 2.5 years, he's been working as a personal assistant for this couple, "taking care of the iPods and iPads and things" (that's a direct quote). I don't know how much care an iPod actually requires; I just stick mine in my iPod speaker where it charges itself until I unplug it and throw it in my gym bag. But apparently such mundane things are just too difficult for the upper crust to handle, and so they hire someone else out to keep track of their possessions and stand in line for them. The personal assistant guy seemed happy enough though (despite making a few cracks at his employers throughout our conversation) - I'd imagine he gets paid pretty well. Eventually, a skinny woman with whitish-blonde hair showed up, wearing a hat that fell somewhere between Kentucky Derby and royal wedding caliber. Personal assistant guy handed her a bottle of water, and then bopped off to his next task.
There was a great number of the Dallas elite standing with us outside the auditorium, and all very displeased to be doing so...you could tell that standing around waiting was "beneath" them, and it was made all the more difficult by the fact that there was no established line, so to speak. When the doors finally did open, we were nearly trampled as the crowd swooshed in around us...but somehow we got in, got ourselves up to the middle balcony, and managed to get good seats. At that point, we still had an hour left to wait, so we amused ourselves by posing hypothetical "If you were the Dalai Lama" questions to one another, such as "If you were the Dalai Lama, what would your favorite pastry be?" (lemon danish), and "If you were the Dalai Lama, would you prefer chicken nuggets or chicken sandwiches?" (chicken nuggets). This later gave way to a rousing game of find-that-word-in-the-program, which got surprisingly competitive and amused us for a good twenty minutes. Somewhere in the middle of all this, a group of people walked in on the ground floor and people started clapping, but it wasn't the Dalai Lama and so we kept on with our shenanigans.
And then the podium guy welcomed out His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama. The crowd stood up again, cheering and clapping enthusiastically, and out walked Tenzin Gyatso, the Dalai Lama, a little old Tibetan man in a dark red monastic robe with gold accents. He looked exactly like you would expect the Dalai Lama to look. Reaching the row of chairs, he put his hands together and bowed solemnly to the audience, most of whom returned the gesture. And then, all of a sudden, he reached inside his robe and pulled out a bright red SMU baseball cap, and plopped it on his head, giving a mischievous little grin. The cheers doubled.
It may be prudent at this point to give you some basic info about the Dalai Lama. He is the spiritual leader of Tibet, and just recently resigned as Tibet's political leader. He was identified as the Dalai Lama when he was two years old, but didn't take effective reign until he was 15 - still pretty young, when you consider that he was carrying out negotiations with Mao Zedong when he was just 19. In Tibetan Buddhism, it is believed that the Dalai Lama is the manifestation of the bodhisattva of compassion, and has been consistently reincarnated since the 14th century. So, after one Dalai Lama dies, the high-up teachers of Tibetan Buddhism go searching among babies that are born close after for the reincarnation of the Dalai Lama, gauging his recognition of the previous Dalai Lama's possessions and of certain people to determine who that reincarnation is. It's all quite fascinating.
After getting his honorary degree, the Dalai Lama spoke. I have to admit, I had trouble understanding him. Something about the acoustics of the auditorium, mixed with the overwhelming post-final sleepiness that hit me right in the middle of the lecture made the Dalai Lama's Tibetan-accented English really hard for me to comprehend. This was rather disappointing, I must say, but it's really my fault (I think the sleepiness was the main problem), and shouldn't be held against the Dalai Lama; because, when I DID understand him, everything he said was very eloquent. His words have that sort of profound simplicity that you would expect from a world spiritual leader. He mostly spoke to world peace, through the praising of pure democracy and a global citizenship that is not so hung up on divisions. "Basically, we are same human being," he said, "Different faith, different race, different language. But when we come from mother's womb, no difference of religion, no difference of culture." The divisions of the world are really those we create among us; babies, at the earliest stage of life, aren't concerned about these things. I thought that was a unique perspective, and I really appreciated it.
The audience was also largely comprised of high school students, and so the Dalai Lama took the time to address them directly. He told them that his generation, the grown-ups, have left the world in "quite a mess" for them - and that it's up to them to decide if they want to make the world happier, or unhappier. I loved that. What a simple way to understand such a complex world, and to understand one's place and role in that world.
It wasn't a very long lecture, but it was well worth it. I'm so thankful I had the opportunity to hear the Dalai Lama speak...what a unique opportunity! I must say, I don't think I ever saw that coming on the trajectory of my life. But I'm very happy to have had such an awesome experience :)
If you want to hear the Dalai Lama's lecture, follow this link.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Road Trip Strategery
(Note: I know "strategery" is not a real word. It just seems most appropriate.)
Surprise! I'm back in St. Louis! I had planned to be in a hotel in Joplin right now (4 hours southeast of here, and 6 hours north of Dallas), snuggled up in bed doing some reading or general internet surfing...but the National Weather Service people are forecasting a giant blob of storms to cover Missouri tomorrow. Dreading the thought of wandering a Lowe's for hours on end, and having already tasted the joys of the World's Largest Gift Shop (see this post if you don't know what I'm talking about), I started wondering if it might not be better just to do the whole drive in one day.
The longest consecutive driving experience I've ever had was roughly 9 hours (from Lexington, KY to Raleigh, NC two and a half years ago), and it wasn't all that pleasant. But, my overeager and overconfident demeanor, mixed with the sweet freedom from schoolwork, made me call and cancel my hotel reservation about four hours into the trip, feeling certain that I could do the whole drive in one day and that it wouldn't be an issue at all. I even called up my resident weatherman-friend Nick Kelly for my own personal weather advising. I was feeling good about this decision.
Friends. It is a LONG drive from Dallas to St. Louis.
The trip is ten hours of driving total, but including all the stops I made along the way, it took me a full eleven hours to get home. Furthermore, since I wasn't planning on an eleven hour drive, I didn't leave Dallas until 11:00 this morning - a nice leisurely time to start a six-hour drive that would have me into Joplin just in time to grab some dinner and watch Glee. Not so much; I finally pulled into my driveway at 10:00pm exactly.
Something I discovered on this trip was how little I actually drive in darkness in Dallas. I realized this when, an hour and a half into driving in the dark, I remembered that my headlights have high beams. Remembered, as in, I had forgotten. People always talk about how you can't see the stars when you live in a city (and that's true), but what people never mention is how accustomed you become to having every street illuminated by a never-ending stream of fluorescent light. "Night driving" in Dallas isn't night driving; they've just replaced the sun with lampposts. Real night driving is taking an evening jaunt along the twisty portion of Missouri Hwy 100 that stretches from Wildwood to Gray Summit. That's a dark little road right there.
Happily, after eleven hours of driving, I finally made it home. I was assisted by three medium cokes, an enormous Wendy's burger, a tour of the Fort Leonard Wood Cracker Barrel gift shop, and a random assortment of CDs/radio (including, but not limited to, The Band Perry, the Sweeney Todd soundtrack, the Rent soundtrack, Christophe Mae, Destiny's Child (circa 2000), and a cd of insanely relevant-to-my-lite 608 sermons that divine providence caused me to grab blindly in the darkness). And now I'm FINALLY all snuggled up on a couch, and got to watch Glee on DVR. So all is well.
But, I think that now I'm going to go snuggle up in bed instead. It was a LONG day.
Also, one day, I WILL talk about the Dalai Lama. I swear. Remain faithful...
Surprise! I'm back in St. Louis! I had planned to be in a hotel in Joplin right now (4 hours southeast of here, and 6 hours north of Dallas), snuggled up in bed doing some reading or general internet surfing...but the National Weather Service people are forecasting a giant blob of storms to cover Missouri tomorrow. Dreading the thought of wandering a Lowe's for hours on end, and having already tasted the joys of the World's Largest Gift Shop (see this post if you don't know what I'm talking about), I started wondering if it might not be better just to do the whole drive in one day.
The longest consecutive driving experience I've ever had was roughly 9 hours (from Lexington, KY to Raleigh, NC two and a half years ago), and it wasn't all that pleasant. But, my overeager and overconfident demeanor, mixed with the sweet freedom from schoolwork, made me call and cancel my hotel reservation about four hours into the trip, feeling certain that I could do the whole drive in one day and that it wouldn't be an issue at all. I even called up my resident weatherman-friend Nick Kelly for my own personal weather advising. I was feeling good about this decision.
Friends. It is a LONG drive from Dallas to St. Louis.
The trip is ten hours of driving total, but including all the stops I made along the way, it took me a full eleven hours to get home. Furthermore, since I wasn't planning on an eleven hour drive, I didn't leave Dallas until 11:00 this morning - a nice leisurely time to start a six-hour drive that would have me into Joplin just in time to grab some dinner and watch Glee. Not so much; I finally pulled into my driveway at 10:00pm exactly.
Something I discovered on this trip was how little I actually drive in darkness in Dallas. I realized this when, an hour and a half into driving in the dark, I remembered that my headlights have high beams. Remembered, as in, I had forgotten. People always talk about how you can't see the stars when you live in a city (and that's true), but what people never mention is how accustomed you become to having every street illuminated by a never-ending stream of fluorescent light. "Night driving" in Dallas isn't night driving; they've just replaced the sun with lampposts. Real night driving is taking an evening jaunt along the twisty portion of Missouri Hwy 100 that stretches from Wildwood to Gray Summit. That's a dark little road right there.
Happily, after eleven hours of driving, I finally made it home. I was assisted by three medium cokes, an enormous Wendy's burger, a tour of the Fort Leonard Wood Cracker Barrel gift shop, and a random assortment of CDs/radio (including, but not limited to, The Band Perry, the Sweeney Todd soundtrack, the Rent soundtrack, Christophe Mae, Destiny's Child (circa 2000), and a cd of insanely relevant-to-my-lite 608 sermons that divine providence caused me to grab blindly in the darkness). And now I'm FINALLY all snuggled up on a couch, and got to watch Glee on DVR. So all is well.
But, I think that now I'm going to go snuggle up in bed instead. It was a LONG day.
Also, one day, I WILL talk about the Dalai Lama. I swear. Remain faithful...
Monday, May 9, 2011
Best. Day. Ever.
I'm serious. Today was probably the best day of my entire semester....what a way to end my first year of grad school!!
I had my last final (church history) this morning at 10:00; I woke up at 7:30 and was all nervous and jittery, and even though I KNEW I hadn't, I felt like I'd missed the exam. So I ended up getting to campus an hour early, did some last minute studying, and then conquered the final with considerable victory. Unlike the midterm, the questions were fair and easy (instead of asking things like what Adolf van Harnack's favorite cheese was...that's an exaggeration, but the midterm was nearly of that caliber). It still feels kind of unreal that I'll never have to sit through a church history class (or test) again...or that I'm halfway through my seminary career (chronologically, at least...content-wise, I'll actually take summer and January terms too, effectively adding another semester. But I'll still theoretically graduate next May).
After studying, I went and heard the Dalai Lama speak...because that's what everyone does after finals are over, right? Anyway, it was really cool...Laura Bush was in the audience, so it was kind of like a two-for-one famous people shindig. I'd write wonderful things about it, but it's nearly 1:00AM and I'm getting sleepy, and I REALLY want to tell you about the evening, which was when I went a-painting with the girls from my Bible study. (I'll most likely talk more about the Dalai Lama tomorrow, never fear).
My friend Sara's birthday is coming up, and so our life group went to G'nosh, a painting studio that has classes where they teach you to paint a specific picture, step-by-step. This means that arts-and-crafts-challenged people like me have a fighting chance at making something worthy of home display. And it was really, really fun! Classes on weeknights are $25, and they provide you with all the necessary supplies, guidance, and encouragement you could want (and they let you bring snacks: cupcakes and wine, on our part). Tonight one of the artists also had her ADORABLE two-month old puppy with her. It was precious. Our class only had about 20 people or so, and the instructors were really great...the one leading had an Australian accent, which made her seem all the more knowledgeable somehow.
We were painting the "rustic vase." The example was all beautiful and realistic looking and stuff, and I seriously doubted my ability to succeed. As my friends can tell you, I was freaking out over practically every step. It turned out really great though...actually, everyone's looked really good! I guess that was inevitable, but along the way I really had doubts that mine would look anything like the example that the lead artist was painting...I haven't painted a picture since the art class I took somewhere around 9th/10th grade, and the steps along the way certainly don't look all that artistic (more like elementary art class than Van Gogh).
Here's a chronology of how my painting progressed:
Step one: paint the canvas yellow and white.
Then came the part where we painted in the table. Observation: I'm not good at blending. This would become a constant source of chagrin throughout the night. We also outlined the vase, which made me doubt the entire future of the painting...
..but, more hopeful after rounding out some more shading on the vase, and successfully rustic-ing up the background. After this, things got intense with putting a red glaze over the vase, and drawing out branches and using our fingertips to paint cherry blossoms all over the place. Since my fingers were covered with paint, I therefore didn't take any more process pictures...
I was SO happy with how it turned out! Everybody's looked really great...here's our group picture, proving that we all possess some modicum of artistic ability:
So yay for art! And yay for the Dalai Lama! And yay for Laura Bush! And yay for finishing my first year of grad school! And yay for getting to see family in just a couple days!
Like I said. Best day ever.
I had my last final (church history) this morning at 10:00; I woke up at 7:30 and was all nervous and jittery, and even though I KNEW I hadn't, I felt like I'd missed the exam. So I ended up getting to campus an hour early, did some last minute studying, and then conquered the final with considerable victory. Unlike the midterm, the questions were fair and easy (instead of asking things like what Adolf van Harnack's favorite cheese was...that's an exaggeration, but the midterm was nearly of that caliber). It still feels kind of unreal that I'll never have to sit through a church history class (or test) again...or that I'm halfway through my seminary career (chronologically, at least...content-wise, I'll actually take summer and January terms too, effectively adding another semester. But I'll still theoretically graduate next May).
After studying, I went and heard the Dalai Lama speak...because that's what everyone does after finals are over, right? Anyway, it was really cool...Laura Bush was in the audience, so it was kind of like a two-for-one famous people shindig. I'd write wonderful things about it, but it's nearly 1:00AM and I'm getting sleepy, and I REALLY want to tell you about the evening, which was when I went a-painting with the girls from my Bible study. (I'll most likely talk more about the Dalai Lama tomorrow, never fear).
Here's a chronology of how my painting progressed:
Step one: paint the canvas yellow and white.
Then we started defining the vase. Still having my doubts...
..but, more hopeful after rounding out some more shading on the vase, and successfully rustic-ing up the background. After this, things got intense with putting a red glaze over the vase, and drawing out branches and using our fingertips to paint cherry blossoms all over the place. Since my fingers were covered with paint, I therefore didn't take any more process pictures...
...but here's the finished product! Not too shabby, right?
I was SO happy with how it turned out! Everybody's looked really great...here's our group picture, proving that we all possess some modicum of artistic ability:
So yay for art! And yay for the Dalai Lama! And yay for Laura Bush! And yay for finishing my first year of grad school! And yay for getting to see family in just a couple days!
Like I said. Best day ever.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
I Love My Mommy!!!
I've noticed there's something missing in my life (or at least, in the annals of my laptop): photos of me and my mom. Not sure why this is true, but it's unfortunate. Here's a picture of my mom and my sister, if that counts:
I'm sure they'll both be thrilled to discover that this photo made the blog :) But in any case, it's Mother's Day! And Mother's Day calls for photos of mothers and children, and I have now provided you with a picture of my mother and one of her children. That'll have to suffice.
The lack of photo evidence of our mother/daughter relationship is strange because I DO spend a good amount of time with my mom when I'm home and not living the life of a Texas superstar. We don't have an estranged relationship or anything. In fact, we get along quite nicely, and she's my favorite moms of all the moms I've ever met. No offense to anyone else, or their mom (baha); I feel like everyone's mom should be their favorite mom, and if your mom isn't your favorite mom then I feel sad for you.
My mom does lots of weird things that I'm sure she would be humiliated to discover on this blog, so I won't name them all here (Mom, I'm SURE you know what I'm talking about...the nicknames and whatnot). I like to think I get my crazy streak from her. Crazy isn't bad, you know. It actually makes things much more interesting and entertaining. But she's also wonderfully kind (even if she feels she lacks the gift of hospitality, something I understand now that I have my own apartment), always willing to talk about whatever I need to talk about, and so supportive of me. She's amazing.
Yeah. I pretty much love my mommy. And I get to see her (and the rest of the family) in just a couple days, which is SUPER exciting! All that stands between me and some time at home is a church history final, the Dalai Lama, a painting class, packing, and a 2-day, 600 mile drive. I'm actually really looking forward to everything but the final, so most of that aren't really obstacles as much as fun facts about life happenings.
Speaking of that final, I better get back to studying...Happy Mother's Day everybody!!
I'm sure they'll both be thrilled to discover that this photo made the blog :) But in any case, it's Mother's Day! And Mother's Day calls for photos of mothers and children, and I have now provided you with a picture of my mother and one of her children. That'll have to suffice.
The lack of photo evidence of our mother/daughter relationship is strange because I DO spend a good amount of time with my mom when I'm home and not living the life of a Texas superstar. We don't have an estranged relationship or anything. In fact, we get along quite nicely, and she's my favorite moms of all the moms I've ever met. No offense to anyone else, or their mom (baha); I feel like everyone's mom should be their favorite mom, and if your mom isn't your favorite mom then I feel sad for you.
My mom does lots of weird things that I'm sure she would be humiliated to discover on this blog, so I won't name them all here (Mom, I'm SURE you know what I'm talking about...the nicknames and whatnot). I like to think I get my crazy streak from her. Crazy isn't bad, you know. It actually makes things much more interesting and entertaining. But she's also wonderfully kind (even if she feels she lacks the gift of hospitality, something I understand now that I have my own apartment), always willing to talk about whatever I need to talk about, and so supportive of me. She's amazing.
Yeah. I pretty much love my mommy. And I get to see her (and the rest of the family) in just a couple days, which is SUPER exciting! All that stands between me and some time at home is a church history final, the Dalai Lama, a painting class, packing, and a 2-day, 600 mile drive. I'm actually really looking forward to everything but the final, so most of that aren't really obstacles as much as fun facts about life happenings.
Speaking of that final, I better get back to studying...Happy Mother's Day everybody!!
Saturday, May 7, 2011
My Day. Yeah.
Eh. I really have nothing to write. Finals prep continues, and I spent all day studying for my church history final (which is on Monday) with a friend and was all sneezy and allergyish. I think my typical finals-time sickness is finally showing up...at least it's coming towards the end.
Fun things today included Chuy's Tex-Mex and watching Harry Potter 7 with friends. I also FINALLY ventured into my apartment complex clubhouse today...taking a friend with me to feel less stupid and awkward for living here for 10 months and not ever going over to the clubhouse. It's rather nice...has a restaurant and bar, fitness center, pool...the usual trappings. The clubhouse also appears to be the mothership of the cute guys that jog around the subdivision.
That's about that. Tomorrow is study Study STUDY time as I cram for my church history final. Hoping to go to church in the morning, but if I'm feeling sick I may pass. Hoping the 5 hour sneezing fit was just a fluke, and that I'll feel better tomorrow!
Fun things today included Chuy's Tex-Mex and watching Harry Potter 7 with friends. I also FINALLY ventured into my apartment complex clubhouse today...taking a friend with me to feel less stupid and awkward for living here for 10 months and not ever going over to the clubhouse. It's rather nice...has a restaurant and bar, fitness center, pool...the usual trappings. The clubhouse also appears to be the mothership of the cute guys that jog around the subdivision.
That's about that. Tomorrow is study Study STUDY time as I cram for my church history final. Hoping to go to church in the morning, but if I'm feeling sick I may pass. Hoping the 5 hour sneezing fit was just a fluke, and that I'll feel better tomorrow!
Friday, May 6, 2011
What Studying Looks Like in Seminary
I had my New Testament take-home final today. Even though it's take-home, we're not allowed to use any books or anything, so it requires just as much studying as any other test. Here's what my studying looked like...
One and a half hours of essay prep in the library.
Swift apartment cleaning for study group.
Visual aids:
Back to individual studying.
Memory device: "Harry Potter Was Extra Brave When Weasley Slipped By Ravenclaw's Potty."
...which is an acronym for the 11 songs I attributed to 11 of the 12 books of the New Testament on our exam, to help remember the main idea of each book for scripture identifications (Revelation didn't require a memory device, because it has dragons and lakes of fire and is just plain crazy).
Here's the soundtrack, if you're interested:
2 Thessalonians: Heigh-Ho! (Snow White)
Colossians: Pretty Girl Rock (Keri Hilson)
Ephesians: We're All In This Together (High School Musical)
1 Timothy: Eye of the Tiger (Rocky)
2 Timothy: Born This Way (Lady Gaga)
Titus: Wouldn't It Be Loverly? (My Fair Lady)
James: We Can Do It (The Producers)
1 Peter: (The) Smiths' "There Is a Light that Never Goes Out"
Jude: Bad Kids (Black Lips)
2 Peter: Right Here Waiting (Richard Marx)
Hebrews: Prince Ali (Aladdin)
Also, reading aloud/listening to recordings of 10/12 of the books (sometimes in German/Swedish/French/Southern accents)
Study Sustenance:
-Stouffers' Cheese Manicotti
-Garlic Bread
-Fruit Cocktail
-De-frozen Halloween Brownies
-Frozen Yogurt from Yogurtland
-Corndog
One panicked phone call to best friend from college.
20 minutes of jumping around the apartment waving hands in the air, spouting off facts about alleged pseudonymity of deutero-pauline works and responses to persecution from a feminist critique (while waving arms around in the air)
Deep Breaths.
Start test, 10:10pm
Finish test, 11:43pm
Eat a bowl of cereal and watch an episode of "Friends" in celebration.
And that, my friends, is how I study.
You may think it's weird. You may not understand it. But it helped me nail this test. I only missed one scripture ID (I googled them all after I submitted the test), and I feel super confident on the Term Identifications and Essay (even though the latter sent me into a panic trying to memorize all that info).
Three classes down, only one final left!!
Happy studying :)
One and a half hours of essay prep in the library.
Swift apartment cleaning for study group.
Visual aids:
 |
| Philo's significance to the New Testament (with slight error...Philo didn't say Melchizedek was a high priest. Drat.) |
 |
| The Four Septets of Revelation |
Memory device: "Harry Potter Was Extra Brave When Weasley Slipped By Ravenclaw's Potty."
...which is an acronym for the 11 songs I attributed to 11 of the 12 books of the New Testament on our exam, to help remember the main idea of each book for scripture identifications (Revelation didn't require a memory device, because it has dragons and lakes of fire and is just plain crazy).
Here's the soundtrack, if you're interested:
2 Thessalonians: Heigh-Ho! (Snow White)
Colossians: Pretty Girl Rock (Keri Hilson)
Ephesians: We're All In This Together (High School Musical)
1 Timothy: Eye of the Tiger (Rocky)
2 Timothy: Born This Way (Lady Gaga)
Titus: Wouldn't It Be Loverly? (My Fair Lady)
James: We Can Do It (The Producers)
1 Peter: (The) Smiths' "There Is a Light that Never Goes Out"
Jude: Bad Kids (Black Lips)
2 Peter: Right Here Waiting (Richard Marx)
Hebrews: Prince Ali (Aladdin)
Also, reading aloud/listening to recordings of 10/12 of the books (sometimes in German/Swedish/French/Southern accents)
Study Sustenance:
-Stouffers' Cheese Manicotti
-Garlic Bread
-Fruit Cocktail
-De-frozen Halloween Brownies
-Frozen Yogurt from Yogurtland
-Corndog
One panicked phone call to best friend from college.
20 minutes of jumping around the apartment waving hands in the air, spouting off facts about alleged pseudonymity of deutero-pauline works and responses to persecution from a feminist critique (while waving arms around in the air)
Deep Breaths.
Start test, 10:10pm
Finish test, 11:43pm
Eat a bowl of cereal and watch an episode of "Friends" in celebration.
And that, my friends, is how I study.
You may think it's weird. You may not understand it. But it helped me nail this test. I only missed one scripture ID (I googled them all after I submitted the test), and I feel super confident on the Term Identifications and Essay (even though the latter sent me into a panic trying to memorize all that info).
Three classes down, only one final left!!
Happy studying :)
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Study Study STUDY!
Yeah. That's about all I did today: studied for my New Testament Final.
I'm going to continue doing that now. Catch you later!
-C
I'm going to continue doing that now. Catch you later!
-C
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Sleepwalking and Speedwriting.
I think that I sleepwalked last night. I base this on the fact that when I went to bed, I was wearing one t-shirt, and when I woke up, I was wearing two. It was weird. To make matters worse, I accidentally slept until 1pm. That's not cool. I'm meeting a friend for breakfast in the morning to try and get my sleep schedule back in the realm of normalcy.
In other news, I've been ROCKING my finals prep. Today I wrote my last paper of the semester, a 10-pager on holistic spirituality from an interfaith perspective, in four and a half hours...that's FAST. To be fair, I did spend about 2 hours or so making a really detailed, well-organized outline beforehand. It definitely paid off, because the actual writing process was quick, painless, and even (dare I say it) enjoyable. Go figure. I'm going to proofread it in the morning (standard practice in Celia-world), and then email it off to my professor. And then, two classes will be completed for the semester! Woot! I'm planning to spend tomorrow filling out my New Testament study guide, study it during the day on Friday, and take the exam Friday afternoon/evening (it's a take-home). That'll leave me free to spend Saturday, Sunday, and potentially part of Friday to study for my church history midterm, which will go down on Monday morning. Then I'll see the Dalai Lama and go to a painting class with my life group girls, and then Tuesday I'll hit the road for a few weeks at home!! The end is in sight!
Also, I got my Greek textbooks for my summer course in the mail today...and I'm stupidly excited about this course. I do like me some foreign languages :)
In other news, I've been ROCKING my finals prep. Today I wrote my last paper of the semester, a 10-pager on holistic spirituality from an interfaith perspective, in four and a half hours...that's FAST. To be fair, I did spend about 2 hours or so making a really detailed, well-organized outline beforehand. It definitely paid off, because the actual writing process was quick, painless, and even (dare I say it) enjoyable. Go figure. I'm going to proofread it in the morning (standard practice in Celia-world), and then email it off to my professor. And then, two classes will be completed for the semester! Woot! I'm planning to spend tomorrow filling out my New Testament study guide, study it during the day on Friday, and take the exam Friday afternoon/evening (it's a take-home). That'll leave me free to spend Saturday, Sunday, and potentially part of Friday to study for my church history midterm, which will go down on Monday morning. Then I'll see the Dalai Lama and go to a painting class with my life group girls, and then Tuesday I'll hit the road for a few weeks at home!! The end is in sight!
Also, I got my Greek textbooks for my summer course in the mail today...and I'm stupidly excited about this course. I do like me some foreign languages :)
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
When It Comes to the Dalai Lama, You Don't Mess Around
Today I woke up at the bright morning hour of 7:00 so I could attempt to get tickets to see the Dalai Lama next Monday. He's coming to SMU to speak and receive an honorary degree. Personally, I think that giving the Dalai Lama an honorary degree is kind of like giving the queen a plastic tiara, but to each his own.
As might be expected, the email about the Dalai Lama's visit indicated that there would be a "limited availability" of tickets. Tickets went on sale at 8:30 (quite a departure from the original 1:00pm sale date), and my friend Miranda and I decided to get there at 8:00 to get in line. So there I was, walking briskly down Bishop Blvd at 7:40 in the morning, to stand in line.
Unfortunately I misjudged the amount of time the commute to campus and the subsequent walk to the student center would take, and I arrived about 20 minutes before Miranda. The line looked like it only had about 20 people or so, so I called her and told her I was already there, decided to go ahead and get in line. Unfortunately, a few minutes later I discovered that what I thought was the end of the line was in fact the FRONT of the line...following the line (along with about 5 other people who had been equally confused), I turned corner after corner, passing about 60-70 people, and took my place at the end of a long, narrow hallway lined with student mailboxes and extraordinarily warm. Because these things always happen to me, I was also located right on the intersection of two hallways, next to a rolling dumpster, so I had to move out of people's way over and over for the 40 minutes I ended up standing there.
In the warmth of the hallway, and having not slept well nor eaten anything prior to this adventure, I started to feel faint and like I was going to pass out. I desperately wanted a drink of water, but didn't want to abandon my place in line...so instead, I just sat down on the floor, letting people step over me as necessary. I was sitting in the aforementioned awkward location when Miranda and Sarah walked up and found me in the line, and I had to awkwardly tell them that I thought it would be in bad form to let them join me in line...mostly for fear that the 35 people who had queued up behind me would eat me alive if I let someone cut in line. So off they walked, and I felt like a traitor.
The wait was brutal. I once waited outside in 30 degree weather for three hours to see a Picasso exhibit during my semester in Paris...I know waiting, and this waiting was intense. Finally, the line started moving, and we all managed to get tickets to see the Dalai Lama next week. But, by the time we all had our tickets, the line was wrapped around every nook and cranny of the building (yes, nook and cranny). Around the entire post office, across the lobby, twisting around the Starbucks, outside, and around the corner. I'll tell you right now, at least half of those people didn't get tickets. They should have shown more dedication, and shown up earlier.
Because when it comes to the Dalai Lama, you don't mess around.
Tune in on Monday to hear about the Dalai Lama's visit to SMU. Or possibly Tuesday...or Wednesday. I'll talk about it eventually, I promise...
As might be expected, the email about the Dalai Lama's visit indicated that there would be a "limited availability" of tickets. Tickets went on sale at 8:30 (quite a departure from the original 1:00pm sale date), and my friend Miranda and I decided to get there at 8:00 to get in line. So there I was, walking briskly down Bishop Blvd at 7:40 in the morning, to stand in line.
Unfortunately I misjudged the amount of time the commute to campus and the subsequent walk to the student center would take, and I arrived about 20 minutes before Miranda. The line looked like it only had about 20 people or so, so I called her and told her I was already there, decided to go ahead and get in line. Unfortunately, a few minutes later I discovered that what I thought was the end of the line was in fact the FRONT of the line...following the line (along with about 5 other people who had been equally confused), I turned corner after corner, passing about 60-70 people, and took my place at the end of a long, narrow hallway lined with student mailboxes and extraordinarily warm. Because these things always happen to me, I was also located right on the intersection of two hallways, next to a rolling dumpster, so I had to move out of people's way over and over for the 40 minutes I ended up standing there.
In the warmth of the hallway, and having not slept well nor eaten anything prior to this adventure, I started to feel faint and like I was going to pass out. I desperately wanted a drink of water, but didn't want to abandon my place in line...so instead, I just sat down on the floor, letting people step over me as necessary. I was sitting in the aforementioned awkward location when Miranda and Sarah walked up and found me in the line, and I had to awkwardly tell them that I thought it would be in bad form to let them join me in line...mostly for fear that the 35 people who had queued up behind me would eat me alive if I let someone cut in line. So off they walked, and I felt like a traitor.
The wait was brutal. I once waited outside in 30 degree weather for three hours to see a Picasso exhibit during my semester in Paris...I know waiting, and this waiting was intense. Finally, the line started moving, and we all managed to get tickets to see the Dalai Lama next week. But, by the time we all had our tickets, the line was wrapped around every nook and cranny of the building (yes, nook and cranny). Around the entire post office, across the lobby, twisting around the Starbucks, outside, and around the corner. I'll tell you right now, at least half of those people didn't get tickets. They should have shown more dedication, and shown up earlier.
Because when it comes to the Dalai Lama, you don't mess around.
Tune in on Monday to hear about the Dalai Lama's visit to SMU. Or possibly Tuesday...or Wednesday. I'll talk about it eventually, I promise...
 |
| I've got a golden ticket! |
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