Yay

http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=155317546709

Suspended

That feeling where you have just jumped off the ledge and are hanging in air, while your stomach alternates between a thrilling rush of adrenaline and a paralyzing terror of what's next. My summer is one slow motion leap into nothingness. Completely blind. The possibility for success glimmers at the end of a very long dark possibility of failure. At what? I don't know. Some days I don't care.

September is like this. Reflective. I've said so before. But up until this one I've been pushed along into the next transition. As I've also mentioned, even the transition into college wasn't as earth-shattering, even though I think I forget just what a big change it marked for me. But it was expected. I knew where I wanted to go. It was just what you did.

Now the free ride has reached the end of the tracks, and instead of a nice platform to stop and get off at there's a drop into the unknown. It's like those Calvin and Hobbes comics. The ones where they're hurtling down the side of a hill in a wagon (Radio Flyer perhaps?). I think I finally get those.

One Thing I Have Been Doing This Summer

Yes. I admit it. I watch America's Got Talent religiously. But it's entertaining...

Three Questions

That arose for me today.

1. Is 3:2 the ideal ratio in Greek statuary, or is that something else?
2. Where does the term "Gestalt" come from?
3. What the heck is the difference between the FBI and the CIA?

This is so great!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

Anytime an outcast or underdog makes the world rethink its priorities, it gives me a little bit of hope. Too bad that the only reason people now value Susan Boyle is because of her voice, and not for the fact that old our young, beautiful or ugly, talented or not, all human beings are created in God's image and have intrinsic value. I pray that we would act on this reality, so that the "unacceptables" of society don't have to achieve such (unfortunately) unexpected accomplishments to be considered of any worth.

This at least is true

The world is really messed up.

"Well, duh," you might say. And yes, it is rather obvious. I was once talking with an agnostic acquaintance of mine (as I simultaneously pursue my faith and form relationships with a wider variety of people I am finding that deep relationships with those who don't share my belief in Christ's redeeming power are rewarding but intensely painful) and asked if he would at least agree with me on that. He chuckled and said yes, he did. I'm sure he thought I was rather young and naive to even pose such a question. But you see my point was that, however you explain it, "something is not right."

As I consider my (somewhat limited) options after graduation and as my over-active imagination spins out all the possible paths my life could take, I can only reflect that the world is really messed up for a reason. The reality of human fallibility and sinfulness stares me in the face when I consider what my more selfish ambitions might lead me to, or my ignorance, or my laziness. This isn't even counting those times when I have truly good intentions. You know, those things the path to hell is paved with. Plus there is that huge segment of people who aren't bothered by these implications at all. They unabashedly live for themselves and I guess I can commend them in their honesty, unlike those of us who mask our will to power under aforementioned good intentions.

My point is that, as unpopular as the idea of Total Depravity is, it seems unfortunately accurate. Which is why the message of the redemptive power of Christ is such a powerful one. Popular conceptions of Christianity spit on the doctrine of original sin because it implies condemnation. Yet the need for a Savior is evident. As uncomfortable as I am with the concepts of hell and damnation, something I don't think I'll ever fully wrap my head around, the transformative power of Christ resonates for all of us who would attempt to honor God, follow Christ and serve humanity.

Paper or plastic?

I've always been terrible at decision-making. Ordering at restaurants is always an ordeal. I spend far too long in the cereal aisle of the grocery store contemplating whether I want Toastie-O's or Frosted Fiddlesticks. I even agonize over which sweatshirt I own goes best with which pair of jeans. It's a sweatshirt. It's not supposed to be fashionable. I'M not fashionable. And yet...

So no wonder I'm paralyzed with indecision when faced with actual choices about my future. Because somewhere, at some point, I'm going to have to take the step that puts me on a set direction and that closes off other possibilities by necessity. That's the part I hate. The fact that I could be missing out on something better, or at least something awesome or more enjoyable or more meaningful or that I would be better at etc. by choosing to pursue "X."

There are roughly three different paths I can see as possibilities at this point. I won't go into details. That would get complicated. But each is challenging and daunting in its own way. The frustrating and absolutely terrifying part is that none of them are guarantees. There's no guarantee of getting my foot in the door, there's not guarantee I'll like it if I do, and there's no guarantee I'll be remotely good at it. If ever there was a time for Divine Guidance I'd love a sign in the proverbial desert just about now. I'd be alright with the lilac bush at home bursting into flame and telling me to take off my sneakers and to brush up on my public speaking. But I think God is delighting in the fact that I'm having to make a decision. That's right, you get to make a choice. You can see the implications of each of them. Where do your priorities lie? It's up to you. Then I always imagine him chuckling evilly, which is probably blasphemous. But who knows. Maybe I will get a little more help. I'm trying hard to be patient, obedient and humble in this. I shouldn't worry, and I know it. Some days are better than others.

Part of it is life after college still seems so surreal. I hope some of my daring (for me) ideas become realities. And if so, I hope they turn out to be more exciting than they are in my head. Each life scenario I come up with seems more boring than the last. I do have one hope, but if I wrote about that I'd sound trite. This post is making less and less sense, so I think I'll just quit. I guess my point was that I AM trying to figure it out. I'm NOT just a lazy bum who hasn't made any plans for life after college. I DO have certain, or rather uncertain asperations. And even if I DON'T have a set direction yet I'm working on finding it. And that ought to be good enough. So stop giving me pitying looks. I WANT to work hard. I'm happiest when I'm being productive. I have an impulsive need to prove myself against all odds. I'm angsty and cliche. I need to go to bed.

Driving to Canada, or Oregon...

Sometimes, when I'm on my way home, I just want to keep going.

Why Georgia - John Mayer
I am driving up 85 in the
kind of morning that lasts all afternoon
just stuck inside the gloom

Four more exits to my apartment but
I am tempted to keep the car in drive
and leave it all behind

Cause I wonder sometimes
about the outcome
of a still verdictless life

I rent a room and I fill the spaces with
wood in places to make it feel like home
but all I feel's alone
It might be a quarter life crisis
or just the stirring in my soul

Either way, I wonder sometimes
about the outcome
of a still verdictless life

So what, so I've got a smile on me
but it's hiding the quiet superstitions in my head
Don't believe me
Don't believe me
When I say I've got it down

Everybody is just a stranger but
that's the danger in going my own way
I guess it's the price I have to pay
still "Everything happens for a reason"
is no reason not to ask myself

Am I living it right?

The Little Prince, cont.

So I'm realizing that there is a lot you can say about children's lit. So here goes.

I love the first chapter of the Little Prince because it is such a good example of what divides my closest friends from the rest of my acquaintances. I also love it because if I had ever run across a book of jungle stories when I was six, I'm sure my response would have been similar. Not that I would have drawn a picture resembling a hat, but that I just tend/ed to really get into things like that.

I was also very aware that adults just didn't get it most of the time. And like Peter Pan I was terrified of becoming one of them eventually and losing, I guess you'd call it the freedom to imagine, or create. And I have done my best to resist this ever since, which accounts in part for why I am so weird.

But eventually we do have to grow up and come to grips with the practical and uncomfortable realities of life. We do have to "put away childish things" and emerge from our idyllic fantasy land to the world of uncertainty, confusion, complicated relationships, bills, inconveniences, monotony, routine, stress and responsibility. This picture of adulthood isn't the sunniest, but I think it's pretty accurate and also not entirely a bad thing. I mean, that's how we grow and that's also how we impact the world. Yet it seemed appropriate that, as I'm on the verge of becoming independent, to look back and not completely lose that childlike perspective. But we have to give up some of the wonderful yet impractical pursuits of childhood in order to study geography, history, arithmetic, and grammar. We can't all become artists. Some of us must become airplane pilots, which actually is pretty cool as far as adult professions go.

I always assumed that being an adult was equivalent with maturity. But the more I interact in workplaces the more I realize how truly selfish and childlike people can be. I suppose I'm not exempt from this. But as he says "I have seen them at close range...which hasn't much improved my opinion of them." The adult world is crazy and often laughable. All the petty motivations that drive people. Sometimes I just don't know how to respond.

But then there's the pay off. How often have I wished to have such a straightforward litmus test of whether or not someone really has that fundamental understanding of what I find to be beautiful and worthwhile in life. I wish I had a drawing Number One that I could pull out to test people with. And how often have I found myself masking my actual observations and feelings in order to make myself acceptable and reasonable. It's like that section in Jane Eyre where Rochester and Jane randomly start talking about "the men in green" and Mrs. Fairfax is entirely puzzled. There are just certain people you have an affinity with, who understand why stars and jungles and boa constrictors are important, even though it sounds silly to the rest of the world.

The Little Prince

Once when I was six I saw a magnificent picture in a book about the jungle, called True Stories. It showed a boa constrictor swallowing a wild beast. Here is a copy of the picture.In the book it said: "Boa constrictors swallow their prey whole, without chewing. Afterward they are no longer able to move, and they sleep during the six months of their digestion."

In those days I thought a lot about jungle adventures, and eventually managed to make my first drawing, using a colored pencil. My drawing Number One looked like this:I showed the grown-ups my masterpiece, and I asked them if my drawing scared them.

They answered, "Why be scared of a hat?"

My drawing was not a picture of a hat. It was a picture of a boa constrictor digesting an elephant. Then I drew the inside of the boa constrictor, so the grown-ups could understand. They always need explanations. My drawing Number Two looked like this:
The grown-ups advised me to put away my drawings of boa constrictors, outside or inside, and apply myself instead to geography, history, arithmetic, and grammar. That is why I abandoned, at the age of six, a magnificent career as an artist. I had been discouraged by the failure of my drawing Number One and of my drawing Number Two. Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it is exhausting for children to have to provide explanations over and over again.

So then I had to choose another career, and I learned to pilot airplanes. I have flown almost everywhere in the world. And, as a matter of fact, geography has been a big help to me. I could tell China from Arizona at first glance, which is very useful if you get lost during the night.

So I have had, in the course of my life, lots of encounters with lots of serious people. I have spent lots of time with grown-ups. I have seen them at close range...which hasn't much improved my opinion of them.

Whenever I encountered a grown-up who seemed to me at all enlightened, I would experiment on him with my drawing Number One, which I have always kept. I wanted to see if he really understood anything. But he would always answer, "That's a hat." Then I wouldn't talk about boa constrictors or jungles or stars. I would put myself on his level and talk about bridge and golf and politics and neckties. And my grown-up was glad to know such a reasonable person.

Waaaayyy Long and Muddled

So this is just my strangely public way of organizing my thoughts a little. I've been a bit unpredictable lately and I think it's because I'm about to graduate from college and become a fully independent adult in just a few months. I didn't have much time to think about the gravity of this transition in the fall, but Jan-term has left me with time to think about my future, and as I've tried to form some definite plans various demons of uncertainty have jumped out at me, almost without my recognizing them.

I've only recently begun to notice that I'm more irritable lately. I'm discover that I DO have a bit of a temper and an unfortunate tendency to lash out when I'm in a bad mood. I've learned to ride out my mood swings, because they're often completely unfounded, but now I seem to be taking them out on those I respect and care about. If I've done so to you, I truly apologize. I probably didn't even think about it at the time, although I don't know that that's to my credit. If I do unexpectedly snap at you or otherwise act like an ogre, please bring my attention to the fact. I want to be aware of when I'm treating my friends unfairly. So please confront me about it. And thank you for forbearing with my sudden outbursts if you've had to deal with them. At least I'm now aware of the problem and it's something I'll have to be on my guard about and work on. On the flip side I'm becoming more outgoing and gregarious too. I seem to bounce between a slightly more extreme set of highs and lows, exhibiting fewer inhibitions in either case. My fear is that as graduation gets closer, it's only going to get worse. Hopefully now that I'm thinking about it I should be able to retain some control over myself.

As I said, I've been brushing off how big of a deal this upcoming transition really is. I remember feeling jittery and nervous prior to freshman year, but I was also excited because I knew I was going to a good place. Now my future is like the blinking cursor of a blank Word document at three in the morning. All I can think is: Start typing! Start typing! I'm only just realizing that this is an even bigger transition than going to colleg was, because it's so open-ended and puts such a final cap on childhood. Recognizing this has allowed me to give myself permission to be a little more emotional about it. I'm not being stupid or trite if I express that I'm nervous or overwhelmed, because it IS a big deal. The fact that everybody else goes through it too doesn't make it less of a big deal. I don't know why I always have such an aversion to being like everybody else. It's totally a pride thing. I want to be superior and above the silly problems of the common herd. Sick really. Stupid too. As though I were invincible from all that drives the lives of others.

And so I think a lot about what I want to DO with my life and how I want to live it, realizing that I'll now be able to define myself with a freedom I've never had before. I love the idea of this, of creating my own living space and being able to live out my philosophy of life through its expression in my work, hobbies, relationships etc. In a way I'm already doing this, but with limitations. I have an idea of who I want to be as an adult. Not what I want to do or accomplish, but the kind of person I want to be. There are some things about myself I want to change and probably will never be able to. There are other things I want to change and probably shouldn't. Nevertheless I have a very clear picture of how I want to function in life.

It's funny (as in peculiar, or perhaps just telling) how God gives us what we need, but not until the exact moment we absolutely need it. Fosters trust I suppose. I've recently discovered a certain inner strength I hadn't been aware of before. Of course it's not exactly self-reliance. Self-reliance is, in my opinion, a lie. Nobody can achieve that for long and be sustained. But January has allowed me to spend a lot more time with God and from that is springing a sort of self-assurance I didn't know I was capable of. As a teenager, like most teenagers, I craved acceptance and approval. I found that at Whitworth, only to discover I didn't really need it after all. Finally I don't have to run around worrying what people think of me.

This new found strength coupled with my restlessness about my future (as much as I commit myself to trust God, and one thing coming out is definitely an increase in that, I cannot be serene) are I think making me a bit reckless. I can sense my parents' anxiety that their little girl is about to venture out into the big bad world alone. In a way I can see their point. I almost feel like a danger to myself in my blind naivety. I'm such an idealist that all I want to think about is potential, not possible danger. Yet as much as I tell myself to be careful I also keep responding that I cannot be motivated by fear. You have to take risks in order to do something worthwhile. So be it.

Still, I wonder how much of my ambitions are rightly motivated. I feel excitement at some of the prospects of independence, but indignation and even boredom at others. I feel like I'm willing to embrace all the attractive aspects of adulthood, but that I want to avoid all the inconvenient ones. I will take on responsibility as it suits me and pick what obligations I feel are "worthy" of me, but reject those that seem too difficult or unpleasant. In short I applaud the IDEA of self-sacrifice but when faced with the actual spectre, not just some abstract idea of something noble and honorable, but the cold hard reality of what it means to give up something important for others, even the least thing, I turn away. I wonder how many of us really know the meaning of the word sacrifice. I wonder how many of us would really voluntarily submit to it. I wonder if we're even capable of it. My hunch is that true, unselfish, rightly motivated sacrifice is only possible through Christ. In fact that's more than a hunch, that's a basic tenet of faith. Just an implication, a part of believing that Christ is the only true model of it. In order to truly mature and live life in a way worthy of my professed relationship with God I must submit to Christ and ask for grace over and over again. My plans may all be very well, and my desires may be there for a very good reason, but they will never come to much if I stubbornly pick and choose only that which is agreeable to me. I will learn far more, and LIVE far more fully, if I allow God to take away what he will and direct me how he will. I don't really know the half of what this means. I know it's not clean cut black and white. But it's comforting somehow. So I will try to slow down and be patient and not worry about tomorrow.

IT'S OVER!!!

It is very difficult to focus on the nine steps of redesign when the first real snow of the winter is taking place right outside the winter. So who knows how my last exam went. Not too bad, I don't think. And now it's done! And I took a nap! And I'm going home this weekend! And I don't want to think. At all. a;llkjfieo;asoiefjkl;asdf jio;dsoiajffcail;osdijf! ioasdf... ffdawefdefefiojijkkkji i d j i l j n s e i j f ahhhhhhhhhhhlaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalalalalalallallalafalalalafalalalafalalalalala. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

:-) *yawns* I'm going to eat something now.

Things I Will Miss About Whitworth 1

So in reading back over my blog I said that I wouldn't have much time to post senior year. I was right. It's been crazy and challenging and exciting and overwhelming in so many different ways. There have been so many times this semester that I thought I was on the verge of giving up, like there was no way I could ever finish all the assignments that were due or be ready for performances or even CARE about either anymore. Yet I've made it. Somehow. And I seem to have a pretty good chance at coming out okay. I'm happy that I'll be enjoying a much lighter load for Jan-term and spring. I definitely don't want to do this again. But I've learned a lot about myself, and that's been a good thing.

With that said, I've been thinking about how different life is going to be next year after I graduate. Whitworth was my first experience of independence and has played a big part in who I currently am. It will be weird not to be part of this community anymore. I was reflecting today that while there are things I will miss about Whitworth specifically, a lot of the things I will miss are related to the fact that an episode is closing in my life. It's not Whitworth, it's being a student, being in that transition period between teenager and adult (why are there so many transition phases? I'm sure it has to be a modern thing), being in such a strong network of friends. Things like that. So here's a list of both Whitworth things and life things that I will miss next year. This is just looking back on the fall, so there will probably be a spring list too. Thus the "1" in the title.

1. Awesome friends, lots of them - Absolutely the hardest thing about graduation, whether I end up moving away or not, will be the fact that so many of the close relationships I have developed will fade in some way. It will be interesting who I stay in touch with and who gradually moves out of my life, and it's hard to think about. My friends at Whitworth have become an extension of family and in some ways know more about me than my actual family does. After we graduate we're all going to be in different places, whether it's back home or at a new job or overseas or what have you. I'm excited for all of us, but I'm going to miss people terribly.

2. Hanging out in the dorms - this is something that really died last year since I'm off campus now, but some of my best memories will involve impromptu dorm happenings. It's just guaranteed that when you shove a bunch of "youngsters" in a small space together crazy fun things are going to happen. Luckily at Whitworth most of those things are also safe.

3. Music - student recitals, concerts, student-ticket prices (REALLY going to miss that), symphony group, lessons, ensembles (even jazz ensemble!), being able to explore and play music as much as I want to and be considered normal at the same time AND be surrounded with people who are as crazy about it as I am.

4. Academia - Well, I am getting a little tired of the college atmosphere in this respect, but it is still neat to walk down the halls of Dixon and pass by lectures on Kant, metaphysics, child psychology, and economics to name a few. Sometimes I think I want to just sit outside the doors and soak it all in. Then I remember that even for a place populated by thoughtful, intelligent students like Whitworth that would be weird.

5. Professors - How awesome is it to have so many personal mentors whose job is to focus on giving you the tools to succeed? How awesome is it to have amazing personal role models and banks of information who are just an email away? Whitworth has some outstanding professors and I've developed close relationships with more than a few. My theory is that they start out as parent figures when you're a lost little freshman, so there's a special bond I think. Granted, I will NOT miss being the focus of so many people's vocation or the topic of meeting room discussions. I never want to know how auditions are discussed. Ever.

6. Brick buildings and pine trees - Whitworth is like the college campus version of a comfy old sweater. It has the academic feel, but it's a casual one.

7. Chapel - especially services like tonight's Candlelight Nativity. I have a difficult time encountering all the anti-Christian thought out there. I'm pretty strong in my faith (currently) but I always feel that I have to apologize or admit that I'm an ignorant idiot for being a Christian. To have the encouragement of a strong community of fellow Christians whose intelligence I also respect has been a huge blessing. To be able to openly express my faith without fear is another. To have a haven from homework and stress and a place to refocus on what's important is a third.

8. Being nocturnal - after a certain hour, everything becomes funny. Alternatively, homework also becomes more evil.

That's enough for now I think. Expect more to come. :-) Sometimes I think I do better with life if I can treat it as what is happening is already in the past. That's probably why I often narrate to myself in past tense. Weird I know.

And Just Because

A friend of mine recently disclosed that if she could have a composer boyfriend, it would be Franz Schubert. I of course was thinking: you mean the ugly chap with the glasses? Why? But no. She claimed he was actually quite an attractive bloke in his youth. Well, this artist's representation is quite different I'd say.



It all comes back to the unfortunate reality that famous intellectuals are often known by photos of themselves when they are old. Which, there's nothing wrong with being old, but I think it kind of limits are perception of that person. Think of poor C.S. Lewis. Everyone knows him from that picture where he's all bald and fat and smoking in a chair. I mean, there's nothing wrong with any of those things (except the smoking) but he wasn't always that way. Likewise we think of stars like Gregory Peck and Gene Kelly as being perpetually young, because that is when they made their imprint. Thus we set up ideals that do not reflect reality. They didn't stay that good-looking forever. And so the stereotype of all the airheads being attractive and all intelligent members of the human race being ugly. Random post this.

IMDB Allows for Amazing Connections!

So yes, my amazing discoveries continue. While researching Louis Jourdan movies I came across "The Swan," which stars him and Alec Guinness.

Hmmm, that chap looks familiar I thought. Where have I seen him before? The first Pink Panther movie? No. That was David Niven as Sir Charles Litton.

Let's look at his profile. Aha. Drum roll please. How could I not have realized that he played Obi-Wan Kenobi in Star Wars!? Crazy! Let's take a look at what else he's done...

Adolf Hitler in Hitler: The Last Ten Days. Which is supposedly very good.
Yevgraf in Dr. Zhivago. Which is quite good. By one of the best directors ever to have lived: David Lean.
Prince Feisal in Lawrence of Arabia, another David Lean film.
Col. Nicholson in The Bridge on the River Kwai, another David Lean film.
Father Brown in Father Brown. I'm reading these mysteries right now!!!!!
Aaaannndd Fagin in David Lean's adaptation of Oliver Twist.

That's quite the resume! I officially need to see every single one of those films.

Louis Jourdan is my hero

In the world of Hollywood leading men, there isn't much to pick from nowadays. There are a few actors I suppose. Christian Bale, although his character seems to be in question at the moment. Richard Armitage is, of course, not in Hollywood. Brad Pitt and co. frankly don't impress me much. And despite Captain Jack Sparrow's amazingness, Johnny Depp kind of creeps me out.

This is why most of my favorite actors are dead. It's quite unfortunate, but true. Gregory Peck, Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire, James Stewart, Laurence Olivier, to name a few, are just awesome. These guys had class. And I keep discovering more. Louis Jourdan may just top the list. Not because I like his work all that much better, but because he seems like such a 100% spiffing guy.

I first discovered him through "Gigi," a cute if somewhat creeperish musical that was the last of Lerner and Loewe's creations. I'm not sure it deserved the Best Picture award it was given, but it's a well-made film with some good actors and a few decent songs. I mean, it's not my favorite, but I happened to pick it up at the library the other day and I realized that the leading man really is a heck of an actor. Aaaannddd possibly quite good looking... But would I be motivated by such shallowness? Certainly not. The point is, I IMDB'd him and discovered he's also a heck of a guy.

As an actor, he mostly starred as what he calls the "Latin lover" roles. But it seems he had potential for a whole lot more. He was the villain in a James Bond movie that I simply must see now. He also starred as Dracula in a BBC series I believe. Apparently he was involved in a production of the Count of Monte Cristo as well. I'm curious about a few of his other "type-cast" features, and am really anxious now to see Hitchcock's "The Paradine Case," which features both him and Gregory Peck!!! Whom he also professes to have been extremely close with.

His minibio on IMDB is really what wowed me though. "Born Louis Gendre, he was educated in France, Britain, and Turkey." "During World War II, after his father was arrested by the Gestapo, Louis and his two brothers joined the French underground; his film career came to a halt when he refused to act in Nazi propaganda films." Oh, and he is still married to his wife of 60+ years. Wow.

Coolest thing ever though. I chanced a look on the IMDB forums and... he's there! Chatting it up with fans from his home in the south of France at the age of 89! Of course, it could just be an impersonator. Some weird sap who derives pleasure out of deceiving simple-minded mucks like myself. But... I think it really is him. I choose to believe it. And how cool is that? So, as he apparently listens to classical music, I asked him who his favorite composer was, for lack of anything better to ask. It's there for all to see if you're interested in observing me as a star-struck idiot. I'd rather you didn't though. I do feel slightly silly at how excited I am over this, but at the same time... I don't get to converse with my favorite actors very often.

Prayer

What do you do when tragedy strikes a close friend? Suddenly there is an invisible wall in between you and someone you used to share much of life with. A friend of mine recently found out her mom has cancer, and the prognosis does not look good. This week has been difficult for her, and for me as I try to find the best way to be there for her. All I can do right now is pray and hope for the best. That is the wonderful thing about prayer. It does a lot of things, one of which is simply to be an emotional outlet. It's the one thing I know I can do and not worry about being insensitive or awkward as I so often am. Which is unfortunate, because seeing her suffer really does cause me pain, yet I'm as awkward and tongue-tied as ever. Hopefully she will forgive me for my failings and God will help me to serve her in the right way. And yet I feel so helpless in the face of something like this. There is nothing I can do to fix it. There is nothing I can do to make her feel better. Nothing I say will change anything.

It is so heartbreaking to walk with her and to see that shadow she is living under. What she is feeling is so far removed and so much deeper than anything I have ever felt. I can't go there with her. I can only watch on the sidelines. And pray. Never before have I been so pious. This cancer is not only physically attacking her mom, it's attacking her whole family and I am the unhappy witness of the attacks it is making on her soul. She's always been so joyful and full of laughter, and it kills me to see her so changed by this. And yet I can't believe how strong she is in the face of it all. I am so tired of seeing my friends suffer.

Cross Country Skiing

Cross Country Skiing - v. - the process of torturing, exhausting, and otherwise killing oneself in the name of exercise and pretty scenery.

I do love X country. But it is harrowing. I never knew before that there was more than one kind. The kind I did know about is "Classic," which can be tiring but is fairly manageable even for the out-of-shape. I had done this before and hadn't remembered it being so very hard so I was surprised on the first day of class when I was falling all over myself just like everybody else, as if I'd never done it before. Granted it had been a while.

But just as we were starting to get the hang of that, we switched to "Skate Skiing" which is simply another name for Hell. Don't get me wrong. I love it. You go a lot faster than on classic. But. You kind of die in the process. I haven't been so sore in a long time. You see, skate skiing is basically running on skis. Not the easiest of things to do.

Our instructor warned us of the pain to come. He's a pretty solid-looking guy who has been skiing for quite a long time and who tends to laugh in a sinister manner whenever introducing something new. For instance. "We'll be skate skiing today. The arches of your feet are really going to hurt tomorrow. Hehhehhehheh." Actually, everything hurt. Arms, legs, back. feet, anywhere from the shoulders down was fair game.

It isn't easy to learn either. There's a certain stepping motion that requires a certain kind of balance if you're going to glide, which is the point of course. Otherwise you're just kind of walking around with planks attached to your feet, in which case you may as well just trade your skis for some snowshoes. The other thing you have to figure out is how to use your poles correctly. In order to better learn this, our instructor, who remember has kind of a sadistic sense of humor, had us walk around in circles using our poles but not our skis. There are quite a few very experienced skiers using the trails, and so they're zooming by us while we're all walking in a circle with our stupid poles looking quite like idiots. And I was wondering "Is this really necessary?" and watching our instructor to see if he had that smirk he gets sometimes and I still kind of suspect that it was just a private joke on his part. One especially good skier wears this red spandex and flies through the intersections at about 100 mph. On these occasions we completely disregard our instructor and all stop and stare in awe (despite the spandex) as he flies by.

Another time we were doing a drill (on skies this time, thank goodness) and going in circles and somehow managed to completely trap a mother and her son in the center. They were just staring out at us as we, the salmon run, kept swirling by, completely trapped and increasingly desperate for an opening. It was ridiculous.

But we get a lot of free time to just ski around. Granted by then we're completely exhausted and sore but we ski anyways because we're paying good money dang it. The other day we caught a beautiful sunset and so we simply sat in the snow (completely not cold) and watched it set and spelled the word "llAMA" with our skis because we're in college. And when we got back to the lodge (which really isn't as warm and cozy as the word implies it should be) there was a rainbow and I don't think I've ever seen a rainbow in the winter before. And the moon was rising as the sun was setting. It was gorgeous. Which combined with the completely snow-covered trees and peacefulness of the trails is why I chose cross-country over downhill or snowboarding in the first place. I would love to snowboard, but I'm more the X country type. It's like taking a hike, only the scenery goes by faster and you don't get cold in the snow. This week we're going all the way to a mountain summet, and as exhausted as I'll be I really hope we make it to the top. Because I love mountains.

I love mountains more than I love the sea (which I haven't been around much and which is too crowded anyways). And I love snow and even cold. It's almost like a challenge. Anyone can go out in the sun and enjoy the weather and lay there and bake. But it takes a real steel of resolve to brave nature in its cold unfriendly state. And yet there's something so peaceful and quiet about winter, which is less like death than it is like sleep (and if you believe in an afterlife than death and sleep are kind of similar in any case). Now I must really go and write my paper, which is luckily assigned today and not tomorrow (which is skiing day). I've only had one day where I've had to write a paper on skiing day and it was horrible. I just wanted to pass out the whole time. If I put this paper off any longer though, I'll probably be up far too late and there's no call for that. Happy winter.

"Your homework for the weekend is watch lots of movies"

Did I mention it was 3 degrees outside this morning? And yet there will always be at least one person on campus wearing shorts. I have a paper to write tonight, but here I am updating ye olde blog, which is the way of blogging I think. I had a lovely 3-day weekend though, with no homework to boot, which is probably part of the reason I have lost all motivation. And I was doing so very well.

But the weekend was a very good one and I did heed my professor's advice and watch lots of movies. The first of which being Groundhog Day with my podmates. Since Sally's arrival things have been much more harmonious in our pod. I think it's an after-affect of trying to make Sally feel at home, we're all growing closer as a result. I can't imagine what it would be like to transfer, so I've been trying to do my bit to help her transition smoothly. Luckily her and Anna are getting along very well. At times I'm reminded of the antics my first year in BJ as we all got to know each other.

Exhausted from cross country skiing, I slept for 12 hours Friday night. I awoke at 10:00 to find my roommate still slumbering above me. At least, I was pretty sure she was up there. I can't always tell. I think at least once I've been creeping around in the dark when I was the only one in the room, but I like to play it safe. :-) I learned later that she didn't arise until 12:00, which is surprisingly something I haven't done in a very long time. It was one of the loveliest Saturdays. I ate a leisurely (I've never noticed before how close this word is to the word "liege," makes sense though) anyhow, ate breakfast at a liege-like pace and finished Over Sea, Under Stone, a children's book by Susan Cooper that I wish I had known of when I was younger.

I was inspired by Over Sea, Under Stone to go to the library in search of Le Morte d'Arthur and got completely carried away and checked out 4 books. I always get carried away at libraries. I wish the time you spent reading books didn't "count" towards actual time spent in the day. But it does. So I always lose my head and come home with piles of books, most of which I will never finish but simply have the enjoyment of anticipating and looking at and turning about in my hands. Right beside Le Morte d'Arthur was Tolkien's edition of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, and then I remembered that book on films that Professor Neder had recommended... It just gets completely out of hand.

You know, I haven't even completely read The Once and Future King, and I'm trying to wolf down it's source material. I've tried a couple of times. The first was in high school, at exactly the same that I was in my first CYT production, Robin Hood. I appeared tremendously intelligent and geeky by knowing all sorts of things about jousts and such. But by the time I got past The Sword in the Stone and got to Arthur's adulterous love affairs my 14-year-old sensibilities were quite shocked and I refused to read the trash. But during one summer at CO-AG I was desperate for reading material and a little more grown up besides and I came within about 10 pages of the ending but I never did finish it. I think summer ended. And now, if I ever want to finish it, I shall simply have to read the whole thing over again, because that's how I am with books.

I really should stop using this blog as a journal but I feel like at least I'm recording something. I mean, it's really nice to be able to look back on freshman year and remember all those experiences in such vivid detail, so on we plunge. I had tremendous fun accompanying Katrina reading through music from the French musical Le Roi Soleil. Katrina's obsessed (if you're reading this now, hi), but I can't really blame her. The music is quite good. I felt like such a show off, but I was at the same time extremely pleased at my improved sight-reading. I was tearing through this stuff and I'd never even heard it before. Progress! In between songs I generally was a terrible show off and messed about on the piano while Katrina decided what to sing next. And you know something? It sounded good. Like I knew what I was doing. Like I had complete control of the piano, which I don't. Yet. Actually, complete control's kind of a utopian ideal, but it's something to reach for and not near so far off as a couple years ago.

Our music making was cut short by a scheduled viewing of Northanger Abbey. The new adaptation is quite wonderful. I highly recommend. J.J. Fields does a marvelous job as Henry Tilney and Felicity Jones plays Catherine perfectly. It's almost made me give up my dreams of travel though. Explanation: I hate the way I talk. It's complicated. It partially comes of sharing a room with a French major, who is I understand only trying to help me but I'm afraid it's a lost cause. I've always had trouble with my "a" sounds. I can only really distinctly hear 2 when in English there are 3. So, for instance, I can't pronounce "bag" properly, or "Bath" which is how this rant got started. This among other things makes it apparent that my accent is always going to be dreadful, except when speaking German because for some reason that's almost like a mother tongue to me. Anyhow, every once in a while I will try and be intelligent and clever by mentioning such and such a book or quoting something only to find I sound like a complete ass because I can't say the da#*ed thing properly. So I take short cuts whenever I can, which partially requires me translating foreign things into English, but it's humiliating in any case.

Okay, onwards. Sunday was similarly lazy. I got to see most of Le Roi Soleil which Katrina has on DVD. Slight drawback, it's all in French with no subtitles. There is also something particularly intimidating and alienating about being surrounded by a bunch of friends who are speaking another language. Obviously, it was a French class activity and it was my choice to come, so I'm not complaining, but I'm just observing. I enjoyed the music and between songs I made up my own plot. It involved Ursula from The Little Mermaid, and a plot to submerge all of France, and Dracula, and Tinker Bell, and Ariel was in love with Louis XIV... Ummmm, yeah. I suppose Louis looks fairly attractive here, if somewhat like a girl (which was of course simply the fashion at the time). But I was under the impression that in real life he was somewhat like Ben Franklin, not so attractive and a little on the chubby side but still quite the ladies' man.

Monday was... Well, I can't quite remember what I did do. But I had a fun time playing Apples to Apples with the girls in 204 during which "carnies" were paired with "handsome," "meat cleavers" were considered "courageous" and "my love life" was deemed by myself to be "miserable." :-) Also watched several episodes of Monk, which is a wonderfully Sherlockian. And that's pretty much it and probably all we have time for. If you read all this, you're either a really good friend or a really bored soul. My prayers for you.

----------------
Now playing: Le Roi Soleil Cast - S'Aimer Est Interdit
via FoxyTunes

I'm Old and Boring

So I should be sleeping, but I just went back and read some old blog posts from sophomore/freshman year. And I realized I've changed a lot just in the span of 2 years. Which is kind of unsettling, but definitely a good thing. I was really neurotic at times wasn't I?