Keyed Up

Well, my blog seems to be having some issues lately, so hopefully someone will be able to read this. To those of you who can't read this, you might want to try re-saving it to your favorites. (This advice is completely worthless, since if you can read this, you don't need to.)
Despite feeling all alone, my faithful bloggers separated by the huge and unforgiving realm of internet errors, I am actually quite happy. Hmm, let me rephrase that. Despite lack of sleep, a predominance of journalism classes and Bio readings, and a tendency to forget myself playing FreeCell, I am enjoying a fairly satisfactory time at college. Don't despair, however, readers (or non-readers, as the case may be). I am still having quite the usual numbers of misadventures, misdirections, and general mix-ups.*
After a first week of school that dragged on and on and on and on and on, I was looking forward with great anticipation to the weekend. Most of it was filled with the inevitable school assignments, but I did have a chance to watch two movies with my roommate and brother. The first was The Skeleton Key (hence the first “key” event of the weekend). It was creepy (okay, so I don’t do even slightly scary movies well), and even though Luke D. and I saw most the plot lines coming, we still were surprised by the ending. It’s rare that a movie can catch you off guard, but this one did. Even though almost all our guesses were correct. And the atmosphere still managed to be chilling, even with Lukas and Luke making fun of it. Their sarcasm was only slightly dampened by the glares Ginny and I threw their way, but then again it was too dark for them to really see them.
The other movie that we watched was Tristan + Isolde, which I am not going to discuss here, except to say that the best part was when King Mark is arguing with Melot in the background and says “I’m SICK of your moaning!” LOL, some things never change.
Now, some of you may know of my history with trying to lock/unlock doors. For specific instances, I will only bring to mind three.
1) In Spain, none of us could ever unlock the hotel doors in Madrid (they would have confounded Houdini himself). We actually had to ask for help from the man at the front desk and get him to unlock it for us. (Except for Lukas and Jim. They had to get help because they had actually looked their keys in the room.)
2) This summer, Lukas and I (and Julia and Max and Clara) came back earlier than my parents from something, only to realize that we couldn’t get into the house. After an hour of waiting, leaving, coming back, and still waiting for them, it turns out we had a key all along. The lock just sticks.
3) The locks in Scotland are worse than the locks in Madrid. Nuff said.

So it must come as no surprise that my college dorm room has a temperamental lock. For starters, unlocking/locking the door is always the reverse of what one would expect. This confusion would eventually go away, were it not confounded with other problems. The lock hates us, and sticks all the time. Apparently the keys hate us too, for Ginny managed to lose hers. After going down to dinner one day, we returned to find that we could not open the door with my key. Several minutes of trying everything (including hitting the door and begging) produced no result. Finally it opened, and we realized that with it sticking AND being reversed, we were confusing locked and unlocked.

Hopefully these tales of woe will teach you a lesson. It is too late for me, but perhaps I can still save someone else. Never, ever get on the bad side of locks (seriously, I must have horribly offended them by chewing on plastic keys as a baby), and make sure you have your AAA card with you at all times. And a cell phone.



*If you notice some differences in my style, I must excuse it on the basis of time spent with a new friend, Amelia Peabody. I have been happily enthralled listening to her adventures, and some of her tone seems to have rubbed off on me. (If you have never had the opportunity to be acquainted with Ms. Peabody, I strongly recommend the friendship. You can find her memoirs at your local library or bookstore under the aegis of Elizabeth Peters.)

A Teenager No Longer

Well, I meant for my next post to be more about Scotland, but since I am a horrible procrastinator, I figured I should just jump back to the present and catch up when I have time (haha). Today is my 20th birthday! Weird. I'd be . . .like. . .on the shelf (in a regency novel). Or maybe that's 21. I just cannot think of a better way to spend my birthday than running back and forth to class in the heat, dripping sweat (and sarcasm). Oh well; at least I stopped at the poster sale and got a new LOST poster for my room. :)

So far my classes seem pretty normal; I have the intensive class (Spanish every day), the boring class (Bio 1010), the very boring class (News 2100), the fun class (19th Century British Women Writers), and the so-easy-it's-an-insult-to-my-intelligence class (Am History). I just had American history today, and got a chance to look at the syllabus. The only assignment for the entire semester is one four to five page (double spaced) paper. I feel like I'm back in kindergarten (except I never actually went to kindergarten). I think I almost laughed out loud when I saw that. I suppose I could/should switch to the Honors section. . .or I could use the free time to get a job. Or just read more fiction books.

Overall my new roommate and I are getting along well. She talks (if possible) more than I do. It's somewhat exhausting. Still, we're having a pretty good time together. I could use prayer, though. She's a Deist, and something of a skeptic, but she did go with me to the RUF picnic last night. Also last night we spent over two hours taking "which character would you be" personality tests (not my fault--she started it (even if I was an active participant)). Apparently I'm most like the monkey from Pirates of the Caribbean. :P She says I'll never live that one down. Makes you wonder what depths I’m really hiding. . .heehee

Culloden

Yesterday I stood upon the battlefield of Culloden.

It was a nice warm day--unseasonably warm, in fact. There was a nice breeze (as always), the panoramic view was lovely, and the cars made soft swooshing sounds as they drove by. All around me stretched a three-foot high jungle of brush, thistles, and generally tangled and prickly plants. I was standing on the spot of one of the most famous and bloody Scottish battles, surrounded by the sounds of tourists laughing. I couldn't help but thing how wrong it all was.

Where were the specters of ghostly warriors? Where was the chill fog blowing off the barrows? I wanted to close my eyes and see, overwhelming the present light atmosphere, the sight of two armies arrayed for battle. I wanted to kneel at the stone where a brave Scottish captain died and, just for a moment, mourn the keening loss of that life. I wanted to be jolted out of my apathy, to feel—what? anything else: horror, grief, the weight of history pressing upon me.

Even as I went through the motions of a sightseer (snap a picture; pause, read a signpost; meander on), I wanted my cold, selfish heart to break with the tragedy of this place. Or maybe even that was selfish. Maybe all I really wanted was to have an experience; to feel the ghostly fingers of the past brush my shoulder for a moment; giving me a vision, setting me apart.

Yesterday I stood upon the battlefield of Culloden, and it failed to touch my spirit. I walked off the field, excited at the prospect of a gift shop.

End-of-the-year awards

Apart from finals (and 3 science papers), my freshman year is over. So I wanted to do kind of a fun wrap-up of some of my new favorite and least favorite things. Well, and I'm trying to avoid those science papers.

Best Part of College: Swiping My Student Card Everywhere

Worst Part of College: Bad Weather

Best Dining Hall Meal: Grilled Cheese and Vanilla Coke

Least Favorite Things: Fire Alarms and Tornados

Favorite New Item: My Watercolor Colored Pencils

Least Favorite Accusation: "Eowyn is a gold digger"

Favorite New Book: The Hollow Kingdom by Clare B. Dunkle

Least Favorite Book: Microcosmos

Favorite New Authors: Sharon Shinn, Patricia Briggs

Least Favorite Campus Buildings: Geology, all the J-buildings, Middlebush (all far away)

Favorite Campus building: Conservation (closeness)

Favorite New Singer: Loreena McKennitt

Best Part of Having a Mac: itunes; Expose

Worst Part of Having a Mac: Lack of games; Windows-based Discrimination

How to tell if you're a college student (bonus: do you go to Mizzou?)

8 Ways to tell you're a college student (or at least think like one)

1.You believe that pedestrians have the right to cross at any time and any in any place they desire (with or without crosswalk)--unless you're the one driving
2. You know that teacher evaluations are there merely to create a façade of student empowerment
3. Naps and pizza at midnight are not deviance, but social norms
4. You brave weather to get to class that Columbus, Magellan, or even a postman would quail at
5. Facebook is not a site, it's a way of life
6. You think that ipods are natural appendages of the body
7. You eat all your meals at a dining hall
8. You follow any flyer that promised to lead to "free food"


Are you at Mizzou? Five easy ways to find out

1. You can't walk to class without seeing someone setting up a newscast
(aka journalists to people ratio : 14 to 1)
2. You not only have your school song, chant, and mascot, but your own ice cream flavor
3. Kansas= Nemesis
4. The campus library is a labyrinth
5. You are standing next to a sign that says "University of Missouri Columbia"

Rain and Beleriand

Today it was raining all morning. Not just drizzling, but really raining. The cobbles and sidewalks of Mizzou are obviously not prepared to deal with a downpour of this magnitude (I know, I know: it's Missouri; they should be used to it) and turned everything into a lake-marshland-pond-area. All the pollen stuff that they trees have been dropping make very convincing algae, too. I had carefully wrapped my backpack in my raincoat before slinging it onto my back, so the priceless artifacts inside (read: LotR dvds to return to a friend) were safe. But even with these precautionary measures, and my small but cheery brighton pink umbrella, my shoes, socks, and bottom half of my capris were soaked by Econ class. So I trudged around all day in wet socks. Just what a person recovering from an ear/sinus infection needs.

On a more happy note, on thursday my Tolkien class is putting on an impromptu play from a script that a local highschool student wrote-- based on the Tolkien story Of Beren and Luthien (or the Lay of Leithien, or whatever name you want to call it). Apparently he is quite thrilled that college students will be performing his play, even if it is just in class and without any run-throughs. I am totally excited (even if I'm just playing the queen and have 3 lines) and I'm already thinking ahead to a yearly Tolkien Extravaganza in which we make it into a real play. Actually, I'm already planning for a movie deal, if you're interested. ;) I'm very excited to met this guy; finally a captive audience for me to recite the hour of Beren and Luthien stuff that I have memorized (evil grin). On another happy note, I won the little campus dining writing contest, and I now have a $300 gift card for next year. Sweetarts here I come!

So, yeah, things are wrapping up fairly nicely around here. Except for that dreaded Word-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named.

Sick

Ugh! [I cough, groan, and curl into a ball] I hate being sick. Yesterday after church I was at Walmart, getting some absolutely necessary supplies for a science project, and waiting on a bench for my friend to get out of late service and come pick me up. I had only had five hours sleep, and I had a headache, so I was not feeling the best. I remember that I forgot to get the glue, so I go back inside to buy it, and I start to feel dizzy. As I wait in line, there is a problem with the checkout in front of me, and as it goes on and on I feel like I'm going to pass out. When it's my turn, I slap down the glue (proud of myself for staying upright) and fumbling throw 3 dollars down. The cashier asks me if I have two pennies. Do I have two pennies? I can't even see my purse. I'm going to fall over and you want me to find some pennies? I manage to buy the glue and I rush to my bench, feeling horrendous. I second later I think I'm going to throw up. So I rush back through the store to the bathroom. I'm going to pass out on a wallmart floor. I can't believe this. I feel less nauseous after I get there, but now I'm all trembly. My face in the mirror is so white that my lips look bright red, even though I know they are cracked and dry.
My friend shows up after another half hour. We try to go to the student heath clinic, but it's closed on the weekends. I don't want to go to the emergency room, so she drops me off at my dorm. For the next few hours I toss restlessly in bed, calling home and telling my mom it's okay; she doesn't have to come up. Finally at four o'clock my mom convinces me to find someone to drive me to a clinic downtown that's open til five. Jason gets his car and drives me, and, after going the wrong way on Providence, we finally get there.
Then it's a lot of filling out forms, etc. The doctor comes in to see me, and does all that normal doctor-y stuff, asks me questions, etc. He makes me get up and try to walk putting one foot heal to toe in front of the other one. He tells me to hold my hands out, close my eyes, and touch my finger to my nose. I sit back down and wait breathless to see what he'll say (well, yeah.,. cuz breathing hurts). I'm almost afraid that they're is nothing wrong with me; that I've dragged everyone on a wild goose chase for nothing. Then the doctor says "You've got a sinus and ear infection" and goes on to explain to be how that throws my balance off, etc. Ohhh I think, I never would have guessed that. So he writes me a prescription, and off I go, dragging poor Jason to Walgreens. That took like 40 min (I miss my Kaye Pharmacy). But to end this sad tale of woe, I'm now on 3 different medicines: Meclizine (take three times a day), Amoxicillin (twice a day) and 12 hour Sudafed. Which I'm sure is more information than you ever wanted to know about my sickness. So, yeah, I’m still feeling miserable, but at least not as bad as yesterday morning; thanks to my mom's insistence that I take care of things right away. The road to recovery may not be fun, but at least it's better than staying in Sicktown.

Trudging through slush

Haha! I love this Zits comic (grin). Only one more week of classes to go! I want the time to zoom by, but then I realize just how much I'm supposed to do before then, and I try to coax it to go more slowly. Lately I've been feeling kind of tired--and I don't mean just physically (that's a permanent characteristic). I feel like spiritually I'm trudging through slush. I've started to realize just how much pressure living "in the world" puts on a Christian. It's not outright attacks: those would almost be easier to deal with. It's the pressure that builds up slowly: dealing with the divorce of science and religion in class, trying to argue for Biblical inerrancy on the Tolkien listserve, attempting to answer skeptical friends about how Christianity makes sense. It's all so. . .constant.

Not that I'm giving up or anything; I'm just starting to realize what a special haven the Christian community really is. I've also been thinking a lot about two different things I've read in the last semester that talk about this. One is a column by Joel Belz (published in World last fall),
Uphill all the way
I like the column especially because it reminded me of the other thing, a poem by Christina Rossetti (also called “Uphill”).

Does the road wind uphill all the way?

Yes, to the very end.

Will the day's journey take the whole long day?
From morn to night, my friend.

But is there for the night a resting-place?

A roof for when the slow dark hours begin.

May not the darkness hide it from my face?

You cannot miss that inn.

Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?

Those who have gone before.

Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?

They will not keep you standing at that door.

Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak?

Of labor you shall find the sum.

Will there be beds for me and all who seek?

Yea, beds for all who come.


This poem is most meaningful, though, when you have it’s opposite as well. I wasn’t planning on posting it too, but it’s so good; from the title to the last sentence, it makes me shiver. This one is called “Amor Mundi”

'Oh where are you going with your lovelocks flowing,
on the west wind blowing along this valley track?'
'The downhill path is easy, come with me an it please ye,
We shall escape the uphill by never turning back.'

So they two went together in glowing August weather,
The honey-breathing heather lay to their left and right;
And dear she was to dote on, her swift feet seemed to float on
The air like soft twin pigeons, too sportive to alight.

'Oh what is that in heaven where grey cloud-flakes are seven,
Where blackest clouds hang even just at the rainy skirt?'
'Oh that's a meteor sent us, a message dumb, portentous,
An undeciphered solemn signal of help or hurt.'

'Oh what is that glides quickly where velvet flowers grow thickly,
Their scent comes rich and sickly?' 'A scaled and hooded worm.'
'Oh what's that in the hollow, so pale I quake to follow?'
'Oh that's a thin dead body which waits the eternal term.'

'Turn again, O my sweetest, - turn again, false and fleetest;
This beaten way thou beatest, I fear, is hell's own track.'
'Nay, too steep for hill mounting; nay, too late for cost counting;
This downhill path is easy, but there's no turning back.'

Too Funny (Well, if you've read the Silmarillion)

Oh my, I love this illustrator so much! She has a whole series of comics about Boromir as a kid (they're in a Calvin & Hobbes style too). These are some of my (many) favorites. (To check out the rest, here's a link) LOL, the problems with little boys having early Middle Earth role models.
Well, I just spend the past weekend looking at Tolkien illustrations online. It was for school--honestly! So maybe I got a little too into it. But the presentation did give me a chance to use some of those many comics I've been storing up. Hmm, maybe I'll have to start posting some more of them (evil grin). I'll try not to overwhelm everyone with my very-avid- LotRfan-sense-of-humor.

The Craziest Bible Study Ever

This past Wednesday my Bible study met as usual at Plaza 900 (the "suave" dining hall) for dinner. It was such a nice evening that we decided to have Bible study on the Quad. On the way over, four of the six of us decide to take a detour through Conservation to visit the restroom. In the typical misadventuring spirit, we entered through a door that led either up, down, or through a locked office. So we decided to risk the ascent to the second level. Of course, this being a science building, all the doors had red "Warning: Hazardous Materials" signs. Such a fun place to be after hours. (One door even had a sign saying "Beware of Attack Butterfly." Brrr. Gives me shivers just thinking about it.) After this side trip (and looking suitably impressed by one members lobster red sunburn), we tramped off towards the Quad.
But the quickest way around Jesse hall was barred by some weird circus/play people, so rather than barge through the middle of whatever it was they were doing, we meandered around and cut through Jesse. We realized afterwards that just going around the other side would have been a lot faster. Oh well.
Finally arriving at the Quad (and skirting the typical guys playing football), we caught up with the other two girls and sat down. For a while, we focused on study (apart from the normal distractions: me tying grass stalks into a string, another girl slapping at a mosquito, etc.) All of a sudden, a girl stops her bike and comes to talk to us. She introducers herself, and after a bit of conversation, told us that she is a new Christian, but is intent on starting a huge revival at Mizzou, and were we interested in joining people in prayer. We all talked a bit more, and she left. Well, I for one raised my eyebrows, and we started discussing revival. Most of us were skeptical, but also felt a bit chastened that she, a younger Christian, was being so active. I'm still not sure that you can just start a revival that saves half the campus, but I suppose I should be the last one to say that's "impossible."

During everything that had happened, we had also noticed some other interesting characters wandering around on the Quad. This guy wearing a red polyester outfit was filming stuff while balancing on a Segway (one of those electric scooter things). The guy he was filming was ambling around, strumming his guitar. Not long after our first visitor left, they come up to us and say hi. He asks if he can sing a song for us, and we kind of dampened his hopes by replying that we're having Bible study. So he asks if he can sing a Christian song. "umm, okay" we tell him. 'Do you know 'By the River of Babylon" by Sublime?" he asks. We all just kind of stare at him, with a few chuckled mutters at "sublime" (I've never heard of that group before). We told him we didn't know that song, and there is this long silence. He walks back to the guy filming, and says to the camera in a dejected voice "they don't want to hear anything." By this point we're all kind of laughing quietly, but we can't really explain that we aren't laughing at him; we're laughing at his friend in the red suit. We look at each other, and decide that we can't be that mean; besides, we might not be showing good Christian behavior. So we say "Oh come on. you can play a song for us." We listen dutifully, and clap at the end of the song. Then they ask us, "hey can we have your permission to use you in our movie?" We give our consent, and they walk off to the other side of the quad.
Then Andrea looks at us, and says "You know, we have no clue what kind of movie they're making." This starts to sink in, and we have another discussion, where our imaginations jump to all kinds of horrible conclusions (rolls eyes).

A bit later, they are leaving and walk past us again. So we work up our courage, and flag the guy over. "So. . what's your movie about?" we ask slightly nervously. He graciously takes time to tell us about it. It's an independent film called "Homecoming," about 3 guys who graduate from Mizzou and come back five years later. "I play the failed musician" he tells us with a grin "So your reactions were great." Happy to oblige, we tell him. The rest of our time is spend talking about how we'll have to see it when it's shown on campus next year ( a big possibility).

I wonder if this happens to all Bible studies on the quad?

Over the river and through the woods

Well, I just got back from my last science field trip. ("Just" meaning I returned almost an hour ago, promptly got a shower, and have been posting messages for my Tolkien listserve.) We were taken out to a "Mystery Spot," so that they could dump us there and have us put all the Lovely Things we've been learning into action by coming up with a history (geological, topographical, etc) of the area. Actually, the spot was only two minutes away from campus (last time it was 20 minutes away plus a 12 minute hike in the woods to get there).

First off, we had presentations this morning in science. Our group (group #3) was. . .you guessed it! going to go third. Unfortunately we weren't the only ones who decided that Global Warming would be the easiest topic. So we sat through the first two presentations, and watched as they used our facts, our evidence, even some of the same diagrams and slides. Go figure. But here's the worst of it: each presentation was supposed to be 7 min long. Which means, with a 50 minute class period, there should be more than enough time for all five of the groups to go, even assuming the normal technological breakdown at the beginning. Both groups in front of us took 20 minutes. ARRGG! What do these people not get about a 7 MIN PRESENTATION???? Okay, so a little of that time was the tech problems, and questions after, etc., but each one was still like 17 minutes. I'm sorry, but that's way off. So we had to rush through ours, which, yes, did end up being around ten minutes with questions (NOT my fault, as any of you who have heard me present no doubt know. And this time I was trying to fly through the material). I hope the teachers don't blame us for lack of depth just because we stayed within the time limit. What a mess.

Anyway, back to our lab fieldtrip. Most of it was pretty normal; tripping on rocks, ducking under branches, trying to look intelligent while saying things like "Definitely looks like it was formed by karst" or "These crinoids point to the mississipian period" or "Oh look at the pretty flowers." And, of course, trying to cross a wide stream by hopping on rocks and waving one's arms wildly. But two moments stood out (well, besides the "yes, that IS poison ivy")

Sarah (one of my lab partners) and I had crossed the stream, when out from the woods comes. . .a yellow lab/golden something kind of dog. And it looked just like Walt's dog from LOST. Woah! This trip began to gain back my interest. Off it went racing into the woods (hmm, maybe we should follow it), but then there were two other dogs with it, and a minute later a woman walking past on the path higher up in the woods. Oh well. (Ooooh, wait, maybe she's an other! :0)

Second crazy happening was on our way down the cliff we were on top of back to the vans. No, nobody fell off, though goodness knows we probably deserved to. We weren't supposed to go near the edge (ha!) unless we were lying on our stomach. I sat quite a safe distance away, and I wished I was bold enough to pull out my fiction book. Okay, so I did get close to the edge (lying down, of course!) to take pictures, but it was for a good cause. Anyhow, we were at the edge of the dirt parking lot, when some girls see a snake and shrink back. Our teacher comes and blithely picks it up. It is, of course, dead. Well, we here a shriek behind us, and we find an even bigger snake, which one of the girls, in her haste to back away from the first one, stepped on. (Isn't that so like the way things work?) Unfortunately there is no moral behind this story; this snake was dead as well. Which leaves only the question of how they died. . .they didn't seem hurt at all. Then again, I was keeping a safe distance. But I bet the others did it.

Back Again. . .

I'd like to pretend that I have a good reason for not updating this in so long. But I don't really. I mean, I could mention lab reports, papers, extra credit assignments, Spanish homework, Tolkien presentations, etc (but I won't). I suppose the real reason is that nothing particularly hilarious/exciting/extremely crazy has happened to me lately. There's all the normal stuff, the fiction book read every two days or so, the afternoon nap, but nothing worth blogging about. Hmm, except for. . .


~This weekend I lost control of the Roman World to my brother, but my ally (Julia) and I consoled ourselves by remembering that chances are our descendants would no doubt steal it back at some later date.


~I had 17 books ready to be picked up at the library; the librarian asked me if I "wanted to check them all out at once." Huh? I requested them all, didn't I? I mean, I know some people must request a bunch, and then take a few at a time, but surely, surely, I do not look like one of the those people. I really need to make myself more known at the Sachs branch. Maybe I should go for the world record of books requested at one time. . .


~Some people I know are playing a really awesome game (I didn't look at the facebook group until too late). They're called the "MizzouMercenaries." I figured it would just be a paintball group or something, but what it really is is everyone playing gets a secret code name and a list of the real names of everyone else playing. Your goal is to tag people to learn their secret name. Once they get your name, you're out; but you can't tag people in class or in the residence halls. (wicked grin) It seems awesome.

Drama, Drama, LOST (to be chanted in the style of Duck, Duck, Goose)

Well, I'm back at college after Spring break, and I don't really know where to start. Maybe I should explain why my alarm didn't go off this morning, or why I missed my classes, or why I have four science group projects in as many weeks (not to mention two more lab reports), or why I have empty Dr. Pepper cans in my room or why. . . Or maybe I should start at the beginning. [Imagine swirly computer screens, or the whoosh! you hear in a LOST back-story. . . enough! You get the picture.]

It all started one pleasant spring day when my mother said to me,
"Lee Anne, how do you feel about giving Clara your room and sharing a room with Julia?"
Now, this did not elicit the response you might have expected; that is, screaming and sobbing as loudly as possible. Actually, I found the idea intriguing. The again, I'm an idealist and I find most ideas intriguing. Until I realize their practical implications. In any case, I consented, and decided the next step would be to convince Clara that this was all her own idea. So I promptly went to work (oh, reverse psychology is a beautiful thing!). It really didn't take much at all to convince her; after all, before I even left for college she came to me and, very seriously, told me that when I left she'd get my room and would probably take all my Aragorn posters down. Oh, the ingratitude! We set the date of the move for Spring Break.

Back to the present. Hurley comes running through the jungle. “Dude! An army of tree frogs are attacking Sawyer!” Oh wait. Wrong reality (though that wouldn’t be any weirder than anything else on LOST. . .) [Okay, you hear the whoosh! thing again. . .]

Spring break arrived, and we sat down to make our plans. One of our first actions (after Clara dumping all my stuff in the hall) was to go pick out wallpaper borders. My mom graciously drove us to an outlet, but I worried that she had ulterior motives. (Last time it took us six months to get her out of the wallpaper store. I had good reason to be scared). Thankfully, things went fairly smoothly, and we even got cherry slushies on the way home. Julia and I had picked out some awesome fantasy prints which we decided to structure the room around. (If you want to see the artist’s site, it’s http://www.dreamflierstudios.com) My dad suggested putting up a line of shelves for books all the way across the wall.

At this point Julia, Clara and I decided that we were smart enough to put up the wallpaper border in my (new) room by ourselves. Ha! Actually, it went pretty well, if you count loosing an exacto knife, knocking over a lamp, and falling through a folding chair as the minor events that they were. Not to mention decoding the directions, matching ends, finding out the exacto knife wouldn’t cut (before it got lost), dealing with corners (we didn’t cut the corners in a literal sense, though we probably did figuratively. . .), etc. Quite the experience. Still, I think we were done in less than 2 hours. For all of our fine workmanship, I think I’ve found another profession to cut off of my list.

Whew! Enough of the drama (though I can assure that their was plenty more that week). Julia and I now have a very awesome room with very amazing fantasy prints and a super long bookshelf, while Clara has wasted no time with her new room in turning it pink. Bound to happen, I suppose.

Now, I’m back at college, and not so happy to be here. After all, I should be at home playing Conquest of the Empire and beating out my family for control of the Roman world. And you ask me to study microbial evolution? Fat chance. Maybe I’ll just put on another LOST episode. . .

Aquí, Allí, Allá

Less than 24 hours until spring break starts!!!! Oh, I am so counting the hours. (Except that I dislike doing an unnecessary math. So I'm not really counting). I still have to finish writing a ten page paper, go to RUF, study for an exam, and write another lab report so I don't have to do it over spring break. Not to mention finishing over a hundred pages in a fiction book that I want to give back to someone before break and packing. As usual, it's the lab report that has me the most freaked out. I know they're not always as bad as my mind makes them out to be, and that it's "making a mountain out of a molehill." Only maybe change "molehill" to "extremely large badger hill" and that might be more accurate. Better yet, make that "bear cave." Oh look, we're back at mountain. Other random things that happened this week:

~I filled out a student survey, and one of the questions asked "how many books have you read for personal enjoyment this schoolyear?" The choices were something like 0-5, 6-10, 11-15, 15-20, 20+. "20+" is the highest choice they're gonna give me? Come on! That is not an adequate measurement of my reading interests.

~Today in science (yes, another lovely evolution lecture), the professor (this is my favorite professor of the four that teach this class) briefly mentioned that many evolutionists are divided into the gradualist and punctuated equilibrium camps. He said that the gradualists like to explain punctuated equilibrium as "evolution by jerks." It took me a minute, but I got it! LOL, that's awesome.

~At Bible study last night we shared prayer requests, and I realized again how thankful I am for my roommate. I have never been "sexiled" as one girl put it, and I don't think I would take it very well either. Sometimes college kids amaze me. (Did you know that like 78% have more than 5 drinks a day over spring break? I can't remember the exact statistic, but it's something like that. Crazy.)

Kindergarten Fan Girls. Oh boy.

As I've hopefully mentioned before, this semester our Sunday school theme is Little Pilgrim's Progress (it has a readers' theater setup like Narnia last semester). This past Sunday, one of our activities was splitting the kids into groups and having them dictate a letter of encouragement to someone who helps out at the church. After giving some suggestions, the four little girls in my group decided to write their letter/poster to the guy who plays Christian in our reader's theater. (On a side note, he played Edmund last semester, and try as I will that is how I will always think of him). The letter was your basic "Thank you for helping with the plays. You are a good friend" etc. I then turned it over to the girls to sign their name and decorate.

This is when it gets a little crazy. The again, anytime you have four little giggling kindergarten girls coloring on the same piece of paper, things are kind of bound to get crazy. They wrote "love" before their names, and obviously thought they were being scandalous. One even started to write "kiss", but she got as far as the "K" before I raised by eyebrows and the girl next to her turned it into a heart. Things continued in this vein for a minute or so: they drew hearts figures "kissing" (remember: this are kindergarten stick figures, so it's not as horrible as it sounds). I was mostly amused, I mean *really* the guy who plays Christian is a really cool dad, and for all their attempt to be bold it just looked like a cute little kid's thank you note. I had just told them to finish up, and started counting to five, when one of the girls wrote "you are hot." Okay, that was beyond enough. I grabbed the paper, wishing I had interfered about ten seconds sooner. They, of course, moved from giggling to rolling around laughing. Oh dear.

But while they had snacks I went ahead and finished writing the "Dear Chad' and the top, and went and gave it to him. I have to admit I was slightly embarrassed; after all, I was the "teacher." He, of course, thought it was really sweet. Then again, I left before he could read all of it. I marched back into the classroom and leaned conspiratorially over the girls' desks. "Hey," I said. "I just gave him the card." Complete and utter shock filled their eyes. Even though I had told them we were really giving people these cards, I don't think they believed me (grin of smug satisfaction). The looks on their faces were priceless. But it gets even better: a minute later Chad comes into the room and says "Hey, thanks for the card." He said it to the class in general (it's not like he knows them by name, and there were 25 kids there), but all four girls turn bright red and start giggling again (this time it was a bit nervous, though). LOL. I was torn between laughter at the whole situation and the shade of red I was pretty sure my face was turning as well. Hopefully they learned a lesson.
(I can just see them in ten years, drooling over Orlando Bloom. Then again, at their precocious rate, maybe that will be next month. What is the world coming to?)

Double Trouble

Well, for those of you who don't know, I've decided that going to one of the best journalism schools in the country isn't enough writing for me, oh no! I have to go off and add a second major in English (with an emphasis in creative writing) too. :P I never did learn when to quit. How did this come about, you might ask. Well, maybe you didn't ask, but I'm going to tell you anyway.

I think it started when I realized I would scream if I heard the word "democracy" one more time in my J1100 class. That, and the insistence that "there is no liberal media bias." All I do in that class is crossword puzzles. Journalism may be practical, but it bores me. So I started looking (and drooling) over the classes I could take if I got an English degree instead. What else lets you take Old English as your foreign language requirement? Not to mention classes in oral tradition and, of course, creative writing.

So, after long discussions with my parents, and the realization that journalism really would be helpful in the "real" world (while English seems more useful for surviving flaming dragons), my mom came up with the brilliant idea of a double major. I know I'd thought of that before, but never very seriously. So, now I'm in the process of filling out forms and finding out I have not one advisor now, but three (Journalism, Honors College, A&S). Oh, the joys of double majors.

If I'm honest though, the real reason I'm double majoring can be summed up in three words: St. Andrews, Scotland. Heehee, study abroad with English rocks.

A Typical Weekend: Poker, Asia, Tornados, and Wigs

Well, I've had a crazy kind of weekend. Friday I hung out with friends at Mark's place, watching people play Katamari Damacy, reading the prologue of The Hollow Kingdom to my friend Libby while people were playing katamari, and playing poker for money. (No, I am not getting sucked into the gambling underworld. We each put in $2 at the beginning, that's all).

Yesterday I went to an "International Fashion Show" at Jesse auditorium. It was three hours (three hours!) and it turned into more of a dance recital than fashion show. It was fairly fun, but I was really surprised: it was all Asian countries. What, can't European countries have fashion heritage too? Or South American or African for that matter? I hardly consider Japan, Taiwan, China, Korea, and India "worldwide." As one of my friends pointed out, it's probably because those countries are the ones with clubs here at Mizzou. Still! My favorite part was the one little toddler who was supposed to be part of a modeling "family" who ran crying off stage, was led back by his mom, who then left; of course, he started promptly crying again.

Today, as usual, I prepared to help out with my kindergarten sunday school class. But our reader's theater leader came running up, and asked me if I could play a part because they really really needed someone. Of course I was willing to oblige. ;) So, at the last second I was transformed into the evil "Self," minion of the Dark Prince. I got to throw flaming (okay, foam) darts at Christian, and wear a horrendous back wig. Oh, not to mention having a bunch of lines AND getting stabbed and running out of the room dying. What better part is there? I'm afraid I'm going to get typecast as the evil villain soon.

This afternoon I was awoken from my nap by my roommate tapping me, as the tornado sirens were going off. They herded all of us into our laundry room/basement. It was quite a tight squeeze. Actually, they had to put people in the first and second floor bathrooms, too. We were kept down there for quite a while. I almost finished my book and didn't have anything to read, either (horrors!). Such fun.

A Conspiracy Unmasked

This past weekend I went home, and being the rebellious person that I am, I planned on skipping my Monday classes so that I could stay with my family a little bit longer. Sunday night I started a new book at eleven o'clock, and I finished it slightly before two in the morning. My mom and I had planned on shopping the next morning, and I was (mostly) awake by nine-ish. So far so good. We left the house, me chattering despite my sore throat and hoarse voice.
All of a sudden my mom pulls into this parking lot and says "We're here." I look around me, not sure exactly where "here" is. All I can see are a lot of cars and the back of a brick building. I remember passing a church just a second ago, and I wonder if I'm meeting someone about my scotland trip, or something else or what? "Mom" I groan. "I can't talk to people. I'm sick and a wreck and I'm wearing that long lumpy polar fleece that you hate." I try to emphasize the sick part by sniffing loudly (well, I'm sure I at least thought of it). She smiled an enigmatic smile, which really should have warned me (but didn't) and I complainingly followed her into the building through a side door. We went up some stairs, and past a lawyer's office, some orthodontists' offices (Been there. Done that. So not going back.), and my mom stopped in front of a door labeled "Quest Diagnostics."
I'm pretty sure my eyes narrowed, and if I was some animal (or even as smart as some animals) I would have bolted for cover then and there. But, being I highly educated human, I merely noted "This isn't the mall." My mom reminded me that I needed to get tested for celiac's as she breezed into the clinic. "I thought you'd do better if you didn't have time to think about it," she commented, as if I needed reminding that the last time I had blood work done I fainted. (Hey, there were extenuating circumstances. I had been reading a book were a girl got sent back to the Middle Ages and almost instantly passed out from a plague. Think lovely thoughts.) I settled moodily into the chair feeling very betrayed.
"Calm down," my mom says. "Remember, last time you said you didn't want to know ahead of time." I said WHAT? Frankly, I have no memory of this admission, and I cannot believe that I would have betrayed myself so. Still, I have no memory of a lot of things that happen to me, so this is not all that unusual. Maybe next time I should have her get it in writing (ink is fine; it doesn't have to be blood. . .oh wait, blood. . .aaahhhh). I really really really hate having blood drawn. As I waited in the (where else) waiting room, I discovered that not only was my mom in on this plan, but my dad and Julia too! If it turns out Kaelen knew about it too I may have to consider moving to Australia.
Well, back we went to The Room, and I glared at my mom and made dire warnings, and she mentioned that I was turning green, and could we please not go down the me-fainting route again. Well, I didn't faint, but I insisted that it was only because the lady was good, and that's not something you can count on. In any cause, I got a Dr. Pepper out of it, and the promise that my mom would actually listen to two of my new favorite songs (she has the bad habit of flipping off all our music in the car). Actually, I suppose her plot was a good idea, but who wouldn't feel a bit miffed when their family places them in a situation of torture instead of shopping?

Vizzini Lives

Do you remember Vizzini from The Princess Bride? You know, the neurotic Sicilian with a penchant for shouting "inconceivable!" ("You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."). Well, yesterday I was sitting in my Career Explorations of Journalism class (only one more day of it left total! yay!), and the lecture was about other options in communications. The first speaker started out pretty bland, but he got excited quickly, and every other sentence ended up very loud and with lots of emphasis. It was during one of the first of these impassioned sentences that I realized he sounded EXACTLY like Vizzini. I'm not kidding. His "normal" speech sounded, well, fairly normal, but as soon as he got excited *poof* out came Vizzini. I was starting to want to giggle; once you noticed it it was so obvious. I whispered it to my friend, and she started snickering. Really, I was trying so hard not to laugh, and I think my face was probably red. . . it's a good thing it was a lecture and not a small class. I wish you all could have heard this guy. Or maybe not: then we'd have a whole row of people cracking up, and that might warrant some more attention.

Prolific Predestination and Elasticity

Arg! I just finished writing a 1 1/2 (real) page single-spaced email on predestination. It wasn't my fault! The guy specifically wanted a response to his questions about my earlier statement. Honest! It's for my Tolkien class. See, the professor set up a listserv so that we can discuss the issues we're talking about out of class. And all these people are raising questions, and I have so much to say, and you know I can never keep my mouth shut. . . (It was so hard to write, too, because I couldn't use italics at all. Really, I was quite handicapped.) Groan. . . I am hopeless.

Actually, the real thing this blog update is about is my Econ lab this morning. We played a "game" called "Elasticity Stretch," and we randomly split up into four teams. When I say "game," I mean "write down answers to questions about elasticity supply of demand." Oh, so fun!(voice drips with sarcasm) Still, the winning team got extra credit, so at least we were competing for something. The environment was hardly conducive to quick thinking: this is 9am on a friday morning in a warm room filled with yellow sunlight. Duh! Our first major challenge came when we were told to pick a name. The three other people in my group and I look at each with completely blank stares. "Come on," our TA told all of us, "Think of a fun name that has to do with Economics." That got a few raised eyebrows, at least. We muttered some halfhearted phrases to each other ("we could always go with 'demand'"), and then he asked the first group what their name was. "Supply" they said. He his expression clearly said you-can-do-better-than-that, and he said,"the next group had better not say "demand." Oops. There goes our one idea. We stare desperately at each other, and the other girl in my group says "Come back to us." The next group picked "George" (the name of our TA) and the other group picked "We supply the answers." Drat! It's back to us, and now we are starting to plan escape routes from the building. Without missing a beat, the TA writes our group name on the board "Come back to us." LOL. Whenever we had to write our name down we cracked up. At least I did. Oh, and all the groups tied and got the extra credit. But we had the coolest name.