24.12.08

Hey, Mister Sandman, come bring me a dream

    Okay.  Forgive me for what is inevitably going to be a long post.  I had the weirdest REM patterns last night.

    Let's begin with the most frightening one.  I literally woke with a start and had to talk myself down from tears and lesser break downs.

    So I was sitting in a big room that, from its height, suggested that it was stationed in a tree, and was entirely made up of windows.  There were long tables stationed all over the room with no regard to feng shui, and there were upwards of a hundred students around my age sitting at them.  One of them was my brother who was leaning over and talking to the girl sitting next to him, trying to explain to her the virtue of his music career and how it affects his philosophies on life.

    Somewhere in the middle of the room stood my Religion Prof.   I may or may not have spoken about him in past posts.  He passed out our final exams and began to proctor.  However, there was a slight hitch (as I saw it, anyway.  No one else seemed to notice...): he was proctoring our Music History final, not our Bib Lit final.  Not only that, but it was the worst put together final I had ever experienced.  I can't really explain how incomprehensible the order of the question was.

    Anyway, he began playing the listening examples.  I didn't notice it at the time, but they were all from past tests and I hadn't re-studied them this time around, which was obviously a problem.  But also, he gave us little to no time to turn the considerable amount pages required to navigate to the questions that dealt with the particular listening example.  And then it turned out that we didn't have the full three hours generally allotted to a final exam, though I'm not sure why.  There were several pages that were photo-copied out of the glossary from our textbook with the answers whited out, but I didn't have time to finish them, because by the time he finally finished with the insane number of examples, it was time to turn in the test.  I looked over at Dennis, and he did not seem concerned at all, but I was freaking out.  

    I woke up scheming ways to get to my laptop that was across the room and would require maneuvering around several sleeping family members in order to check my grades online, but, as I said, I was able to talk myself into the realization that it had all just been a terrible, terrible, cruel dream.

    When I finally got back to sleep, there was an intense segue into the next dream, which also took place during finals week.  I was talking to my RA, who was very upset about having to stay at school the whole week, and we were walking through our dorm, which more resembled my church in its size, its parking lot, and the existence of its escalators and moving walkways (CLARIFICATION: My church does not have moving walkways, but if it did, many people would not be surprised.).  But anyway, somehow I got to my room, and my friend Ben was there, and we started talking or watching a movie or ignoring each other completely (that part was a little vague) and there came a knock on the door.

    The two people who stood before me when I opened that door are the biggest mystery of the dream.  Generally, no matter how far a dream breaks from reality, my subconscious is somehow able to identify its parts (for instance my dorm was my dorm, even if there was nothing about it that resembled my dorm).  However, these too people were completely unknown to me, even though I felt like I should know them, and at the time I dreamt them, I was unsurprised to see them there.  

    Well, anyway, they had shotguns.

    So these dream-trespassers were angry at Ben and I for some reason, so they tried to shoot us, but I somehow incapacitated them and managed to wrest one of the guns from their hands.  Evidently, though, I had not forestalled our impending doom enough so that we could take our time in figuring out what to do next.  We ran down the halls, and somehow got split up, which was evidently a good thing, because I ended up in some large auditorium (that doesn't exist in the real dorm, by the way) with a gun, and the two people found me.  

    Just a summation of who had been shot by now: I and the two mystery people had, but that did not impede our movement at all.  Also, somewhere between the anti-climactic chase scene and our arrival at the place where some mass shindig was occurring, the mystery girl was rendered innocent, and when campus safety caught us with our shotguns (somehow the girl had gotten a hold of my gun, though she didn't want it and hadn't planned on using it) I fought almost physically with them over her lack of involvement.  Also, as they carted me away, I asked if I could make a quick trip to the basement to say good bye to Ben and explain to him what happened.  Needless to say, that was not allowed, but I was genuinely p-ed off.  My subconscious can get pretty uppity pretty fast.

   I had another weird dream after that one, but I forget what made it so weird.  All I can remember about it now was that I went to Meijer to buy a bath towel.  


<3 spadeALLcross

16.12.08

End of Finals: Prescription Strength Cheering Charm

     Done.  

    With classes.  With tests.  With essays.  With 9:00s.  With time management.  With that feeling that I should be doing something that I'm not.  With that feeling that I could be doing something else more fun.  With that guilt that I'm wasting time, or wasting money, or wasting battery life.  

    Done.

    Not only that, but no matter what I got on any of my finals (potentially ranging from the jig-worthy to the I'm-not-checking-those-grades-until-I-graduate), the essay I just got back from my Religion prof has, shall we say, redeemed me of any and all faults in that class.  Oh, har har, I am the queen of low humor.  But none of me cares right now.  I love the world.

<3 spadeALLcross

8.12.08

You would cry too if it happened to you...

    My my my, only 11:15 and it's already been a long day.  

    At 4:07 am CST on this day 19 years ago, a miracle was brought into the world.  

    And sometime also early this morning, a miracle was brought to Grand Rapids. 

    Hello, Sun, this is Mary.  I haven't seen you since I was 18 years old.

    In other news, my skin is drier than Luke Danes' sense of humor.


<3 spadeALLcross

5.12.08

Someone must save this sweet...braided-haired maiden, though surely the cost will be steep

    Today's Headlines:

OTHERWISE NOT-DEXTEROUS GIRL LEARNS HOW TO FRENCH BRAID OWN HAIR

GRAND RAPIDS WONDERS: 
WHEN WAS LAST TIME IT WASN'T SNOWING?

THIS JUST IN--
HEAT DOES RISE, THEN PROCEEDS 
TO STIFLE THOSE ON TOP BUNK

J.K. ROWLING PUBLISHES YET ANOTHER BOOK,
MARY BUYS YET ANOTHER J.K. ROWLING BOOK

DISCOVERY OF THE WEEK: 
MARY CAN WRITE ESSAYS SANS PROCRASTINATION

DECEMBER IS STILL BEST MONTH EVER

Thank you for tuning in to this update.


<3 spadeALLcross

2.12.08

April is the cruelest month.

    That's why you should cast your vote for December for best month of the year!


<3 spadeALLcross

1.12.08

All I want for Christmas is you...

    Peace.

    No really.  I mean it this time.

    People always say that.  "And Miss Georgia, if you could use the crown to bring one new thing to this world, what would it be."  "Wee-ell, Huneh, I'd breeng peace."

    But no.  I mean it.  Peace on Earth.  Peace of mind.  Peace.  

    And The Dark Knight on DVD.

    Okay, so the actual list is a work in progress, but you get the point.  I finally really appreciate the this part of the reason of the season, a trite little phrase that I hate saying, but it felt so relavent just there.


<3 spadeALLcross

27.11.08

This evening has been so very nice.

    XD

    The wait was more than worth it.


<3 spadeALLcross

25.11.08

Try to forgive, teach me to live, give me the strength to try...

    I can't help but be moved by music, no matter how controversial.   I respect Paul Robeson and of course I condone his changing the lyrics, but I still love "Heart gets weary and sick of trying/ tired of living and scared of dying/  But old man River, he just keeps rolling along."  It feels wrong to like that version, which is sad.  But I think it symbolizes a lot of people's problems with life's struggles, not just the stereotypical "lazy black man."

   And it symbolizes kind of what my research papers are making me feel like right now...

<3 spadeALLcross

24.11.08

Thankful and all that...

    I have never looked forward so avidly to the holidays.  Both Thanksgiving and Christmas.  It's impossible to describe how much I miss my family and my home and my marathon lounger training schedule.  

    You know what else I'm thankful for?


    That's right.  Edward freaking Cullen.  For serious, his book is not very well written, and his perfection is suffocating, and his movie will most likely be sub par, but...well there it is.  He is what he is.

    But he's still no Henry DeTamble.

<3 spadeALLcross

20.11.08

16.11.08

Lead us not into Temptation...



    This was outside my window this morning.




    This clip is going in my Music History project.



    This song was stuck in my head when I woke up.

    

    But I  must resist.  It's not Thanksgiving yet.  Stay strong, Mary.  Stay strong.

<3 spadeALLcross

11.11.08

And the hits just keep on coming....

~ Olivier Manchon ~

    He plays the recorder and is married to/a part of my new favoritestest artist/band, who can be found on the handy dandy little doo-dad at the bottom of the page.  I hope you turned the volume down on your browser if you're at work, school, or in an otherwise public place where it would be imprudent/embarrassing to have songs suddenly start playing.  

    Anyway.  If I didn't respect his wife as much as I do, I would definitely be far more in love with this man than I will currently confess to being.  I'm just saying....


<3 spadeALLcross

10.11.08

10 things I've done throughout my life of which my mother would not approve.

10 - Downloaded Music

9 - Colored my fingernails with sharpies

8 - Swung from the shower curtain 

7 - Wore stripes with plaid

6 - Stayed up until four o'clock doing mostly nothing 

5 - Asked out a boy

4 - Took a shower at midnight, and with wet hair, went and played in the snow

3 - Contemplated getting artificially inseminated when I turned 18

2 - Got a tattoo

1 - Went to Calvin, lived in van Reken, and got an impromptu suite mate who may or may not have the Norovirus.

Sorry mother.  I tried.  I tried.

However, I haven't been to any raucous drunken parties, and I did buy some hand sanitizer.

<3 spadeALLcross

9.11.08

Past the point of no return, the final threshold, what warm, unspoken secrets will we learn?

    I can no longer delude myself into believing that it's fall, as the ground is playing hide-and-seek under a threadbare doily of snow.

    Enjoy the tree.

<3 spadeALLcross

8.11.08

And so the lion fell in love with the lamb...

    Part of me really hates that I just quoted Twilight as a blog post title...

    You know, relationships are weird.  If you think about it, when you define a relationship, you're giving that person a conditional definition.  "Cari's my best friend," "Dennis is my brother," "Reggie is my iPod."  It's a precarious and potentially temporary definition, in some cases.  I mean, with Cari, she's my best friend whether she returns the favor or not, and Dennis can't just up and stop being my brother.  But what about something like "Hannah is the person who drives me to Meijer when I run out of cream cheese"?  All it takes is one Meijer trip Hannah refuses to take me on, all it takes is one "No thanks; you're walking this time" and our relationship changes.  

    Defining people is a risky business, and sometimes is utterly unimportant and means nothing.  

    So why do we so often feel like we need to do it?

<3 spadeALLcross

4.11.08

Vive la démocratie

Ray Bradbury Project
Day 7, 6.07.08

    I’m going to vote in the next presidential election, did you know that. Yeah, I’m seventeen now, but I’ll be eighteen in time to register. Me. I’m going to register to vote for the next president of our country. Not only that, but there’s a chance that there will be another woman, like me, running for that office. How many women had to fight to give me…us that right? Hundreds of women on the frontlines of society suffered and died for my right to voice my political opinion. I was worried before, figuring I would go ahead and just not vote this time around, figuring that I hadn’t been paying attention to the issues or the candidates as in depth or as long as I should have, so I wouldn’t really be making a very educated decision. But now…
    I don’t care. Millions of American citizens don’t register to vote. How many of those people are women? And I bet you anything that Susan B. Anthony, Alice Paul, and Lucy Burns would have given two arms and a leg for those neglected votes. In fact, some woman did give their lives. I’m not about to have my matriarchs’ blood on my hands, so I don’t care. I don’t care if I don’t know the candidates’ names. I’ll vote for Mickey Mouse if it means I get to lend my voice to the world, if it means I get to do what those women couldn’t and wanted to.

    I thought about that today.  

    I also thought sadly about the fact that my vote will probably not be counted, as it was absentee.  But still.  I voted.  That's all that matters.

Happy Election Day!

<3 spadeALLcross

3.11.08

Is that a car alarm?

    5:30 this morning. Smoke in first Kals. That was a joy. If it had been anything more serious, Gen and I would probably have ended up dying, considering I only decided to get up after five to ten minutes of trying to discern why in the world someone wasn't turning off their alarm.  But eventually, we got out.  And then, after many annoyed whines, we got back in and went back to bed.  With some work.  Good times.

    This week is going to be as bad as last week was good.  Five days of 9:00 class instead of the intended four.  Scheduling for next semester on Thursday right after a second midterm (o.O?) in religion (with everybody's favorite professor...) and right before a weekend spent in the Library working on three consecutive research papers.  Bah.  Bah bah bah bah.

    The lobby is a mess.  I thought, having grown up with three brothers, I would be better prepared for life with a bunch of disgusting college kids, but I'm afraid nothing on the earth, save living in a tornado-ransacked hovel all your life, could prepare anyone for this.  I feel terrible for the "tidying" staff.  They have the worst job on campus when it comes to us.  

    We watched The Exorcist on Friday.  Ouch.  That's all I have to say.  If my neck did that of its own accord...let's just say I wouldn't enjoy it.  

    This Monday will not be enjoyable, but I'm trying my best not to think too hard about the things that I'm going to hate about it.  

<3 spadeALLcross

    Oh, and by the way, in case you were wondering, when writing on your blog about a movie like The Exorcist and looking up pictures of it on google, I would not recommend listening to the last minute of "A Day in the Life."  It's a good thing it's broad daylight....


29.10.08

Donna kudamono ga suki desu ka. Kudamono ga kirai desu.

    So, I threw an apple at an Apple today.  Neither the irony, nor the ridiculosity have escaped me.  No worries.  

Thank you, and goodnight.

<3 spadeALLcross

21.10.08

Be happy for what you have. Hope for what you lack.

    I've decided to embrace fall.  I don't know if you could tell.

    Fall is my favorite season, so I don't know why I didn't start this earlier, except that maybe it hasn't really seemed like fall until now; the leaves have started to turn and fall, I've had to pull out more long-sleeves and layers than before, and I have massive cravings for pumpkin carving and apple cider.  Ah, fall.

    I've had a lot of poetry on my mind lately.  I don't know if you could tell that, too.*

    Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the lilies that fester smell far worse First - Chill - then Stupor - then the letting go now, you and I, when the evening is spread out against the sky like a wandering bark, whose worth's unknown, although his height be the way the world ends, this is the way the world ends, this is the way the world ends, when the world is puddle-wonderful the queer old balloonman whistles far and they enter the new world naked, cold, uncertain of all save that they did not come at the dawning, he did not at the left and right across the lines of straighter darker trees, I like to think some boy's eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which you were probably saving for l(aleaffalls)oneliness.  And that has made all the difference.  Just to name a few.

    I re-realized this week how much I love poetry.  Poetry that moves and stifles you in one shot.  Poetry that makes you dance undignified on the inside, when you're in a room full of unsuspecting people.  Poetry with lines and thoughts and ideas that stick with you like songs that get stuck in your head, but are far less annoying, as they don't lose potency or gain redundancy over time.  I think poetry and fall are for me one in the same.

Happy October, everyone!

<3 spadeALLcross
*I will love forever and unconditionally the person who knows what I'm referring to here.  Whether or not my love is worth the struggle is up to you.

16.10.08

Slight downturn...

    Yesterday I had a lapse in judgement. But it's okay. I'm rectifying it by blogging now instead of homeworking...yeah. Definitely.





<3 spadeALLcross

15.10.08

Code Monkey Like You



So far so good, y'all.

<3 spadeALLcross

13.10.08

And on the eighth day, God created Amazon.com. And He said, "Oh snap. Now that's what I call good."

    Last week was what I am referring to as "Library sans Library" week.  I was studying profusely for the three midterms and a test in five days, however the library is on the opposite side of campus from my dorm, so instead of ruining a good walk, I just fashioned myself a quiet habitat either in my room or the basement.  

    Last weekend was what I am referring to as "Screw 'em" weekend.  Don't get all gross on me; I just mean that I did absolutely nothing productive until Sunday night (something I've been trying to avoid in all my past weekends, but due to the stress of last week, I decided it would be permissible this once) and I splurged and spent money.  Online.  Thus the title of this post.

    Anyway.  This week is going to have a completely separate title: 

    "Mary is remembering herself" week.  I'm going to spend this week doing the things I loved to do before, the things I gave up when I came here because I made time for other things instead.   I need to find a balance between new Mary and old Mary.  

    Writing.  Reading.  Sleeping.  Actually caring about homework.  These are all things that have been tossed by the wayside.

    With you as my witness, I am returning these weapons to my arsenal as of right now.


Good night and good luck.

<3 spadeALLcross

7.10.08

What to do when CTRL+C is CTRL+J and CTRL+I copies things...

    Dvorak.  Typing at the speed of sound.  

    But you have to be good at it first.

    I have a 110 wpm on QWERTY, and about a 6 wpm on this, so I'm quickly losing patience and energy.  

<3 spadeALLcross

6.10.08

Mawage. Mawage is wut bwings us toogedda toodeh.

Mawage, dat bwess'ed awaingment.  Dat dweem wiffin ah dweem...

    Oddly, it seems to be in the air today.  Someone is theming my days without my permission.  This morning, I woke up having had a dream that someone I knew was emancipated from their parents or something and had decided that they would get married just because they could.  It was an odd dream in and of itself, certainly, but not one of much consequence when compared with the other formidable dreams I've had.  (You, my loyal readers, would know better than any.)  But when matched with the happenings of today, it seems wholly prophetic, like my subconscious had had some discussion with The Fates about my coming day.  

    At lunch, as a floor we began to explore the possibilities of all of us entering into legal marriages together so that we could get financial aid from the government.  The idea has been tossed around quite a bit before, but this day we got very heavily into the conversation and some details have been etched more clearly, such as what kind of legal marriages we'd have (secret?  civil?  legal unions?  Hmm.  The possibilities seem nigh endless.)

    The juniors and seniors got marriage counseling postcards in the mail today.

    One of my friends confessed to me that what she really wants to be is a happy wife and mother.

    I got into a discussion regarding "pearling" (essentially the same as exchanging promise rings, but with probably more sincerity attached) with one of my friends from high school.  I discovered later that "pearling" was a strictly Calvin expression, thus the reason my friend had not heard of it.

    Someone asked me what my Claddagh meant and why I wear it on my left hand, as if to symbolize that I am engaged.

    The frightening thought has finally occurred to me: I'm at that age now where friends all around me are going to start to get married.  Yes, it will be a long phase, probably lasting several years, but I don't think the shock will ever go away.


<3 spadeALLcross

26.9.08

Blessed are the peacemakers, especially the fighting peacemakers.

    All I really have to say today is this: Don't rain on my parade.  Today has thus far been excellent in many categories, and I am currently reveling in that.  I anticipate reveling to continue for some time while I occupy myself with various hobbies I have had to replace with college activity, but it was all temporary.  Hooray!  



    And I've decided that I kind of like Melville, even if that white whale business was all very nihilist and depressing and somewhat long-winded.  "Billy Budd" is interesting, despite Herman's best efforts.

Enjoy your weekend! :D

<3 spadeALLcross

22.9.08

You can't take the sky from me.

    Last week was a bit intense due to a crazy five-day Japanese schedule (I lost my sleep-until-noon Wednesday...not happy about that) and some tests and meetings and papers and insanity such as that.  However, that week is over now, and I have begun another crazy couple of days, after which, hopefully, my week will slow down again.

    Monday last marked my first college test.  Or at least, I thought it was a test, and so freaked out sufficiently the night before when I saw it in my planner and began a scramble to shove all sorts of too-similar Japanese vocabulary words and phrases into my head.  As luck would have it, when I went to class, I saw no one else freaking out in their seats, and then he passed out the paper, and I saw why: in big letters across the top was the [English] word "Quiz."  Quiz.  Well, gee, if I had known that, I would not have had what was later referred to by my floor-mates as a nervous breakdown in the lobby the night before.  I mean sure, I guess I copied it into my planner wrong, but that's still just a sick joke.  

    10 questions.  I had memorized more than 50 japanese words and phrases.  Crap.  

    And that pretty much set the tone for the week.  As the days wore on, I proceeded to forget necessary class things in my room, skip lunch only to find I had run out of sustaining food days earlier, and sit in front of a blank screen for hours, trying to come up with a suitable beginning to my autobiography, and much much more.  

    Until Friday, when I just got so fed up I stopped trying.  Once classes were over, I made no attempt at homework, studying, or even thinking too much.  However, I still managed to have an uneventful night for the most part, breaking down boxes in the kitchen for an hour or so, then helping Christine wash and dry the dishes, then hanging around for a couple hours waiting for Theotherben to get back from Meijer so we could watch Serenity.

    And this is where things started getting interesting. [SPOILER ALERT]

    That movie doesn't have any down time; I swear it was a perpetual action scene or emotional climax.  Not to mention my favorite character dies in possibly the worst way a character is able die in a movie.  But what is worse is that someone I thought was a trustable source of Firefly-esque information turned out to be a no-good, low-down, double-crossing snake in the grass liar.  He told me that, and I quote, "One character dies."  And earlier on in the movie, one character does die, and it happens to be a character that I have no particular affinity for.  So I thought I was off the hook and was not going to lose anyone, you know, important.  

    But I did.  And I was a little frustrated at Bigben for that.

    Furthermore, I don't know what it is about this movie, but I cannot convince myself that some of its aspects don't exist somewhere out in the black.  Mostly, the Reavers.  Yeah, I don't even want to talk about how much that whole concept disgusts and scares me.  Except to say that, since my roommate was out for the night at her boyfriend's school and I was left all alone in my room, I had a hard time getting to sleep that night.  There were gymnastics, loud music, and night lights involved.  

    So anyway, I'm still not sure if I liked that movie or not.

    Then Saturday.  That was a lovely day.  At the time, it felt a little hectic and wasteful, but in retrospect, it really wasn't any of those things.  Well, yes it was, but I'm okay with that now.  It started at 11:00 when we had a dorm "retreat" (we all went out to the parking lot, ate lunch, listened to the story of Noah and the Ark and how it relates to the new wing, and then went shopping at various locations for stuff for our floor lobbies) and continued at 4:00 with a serious soccer game.

    Let me just tell you, that that game, more than anything else I've experienced in these past...what...three weeks? of college took me away from all previous experiences and out of my comfort zone (quite literally, as I am still quite sore some two days later).  I felt like Edward Scissorhands at a cake decorating convention.  I had a whole lot more to write on that subject, but this post is already breaking zoning laws on length, so I'll just move on.

    Then I went to Meijer again and spent way too much money, but at least I have food to eat when I skip organized meals, which happens always during the breakfast hour a lot during the lunch hour on study days.  And now I don't have to live solely on ramen, turkey jerky, and fruit leather, which is exciting.

    So little homework was done that night, though I wrote the insides of my autobiography, saving the introduction and conclusion until...oh.  Today.  Right.  I should get on that soon.

    Sunday was church at Ada Bible.  Which I identified as a WCA church almost immediately, though I'm not sure why.  That makes me like it more, though that doesn't take much, as the pastor talks too fast and the people I met aren't really friendly.  

    After church was homework until dinner (one of the study days without an organized lunch) and then we hung out in the lobby until LOFT*.  Which was moving.  And I took communion again.  Does twice in one day make me a better person?  Don't ask my floor-mate Richard: he has a tendency to start raucous theological debates at the drop of a hat.

    And then we stayed up until 2:00 with no purpose, discussing which names we thought had negative or positive connotations and how people have proposed to their significant others in the past and whether or not the parking lot outside our dorm is a good place for ghost in the graveyard.

    I will let you get back to your regularly scheduled day now.  My friends may you grow in grace.

<3 spadeALLcross

* Yesterday's LOFT isn't up there as of yet, but it will be, and I encourage anyone interested to listen to it.  I'm not sure how much I agree with, but he does present some interesting points.

14.9.08

Radio is much the same thing, except without the cat.

    This weekend ran rampant with firsts.  

    Friday night was Iron Man with most of my floor.  They showed it free of charge in our auditorium in HD.  It was pretty sweet, let me tell you.  It was my first "official" college Friday, as last Friday had me still in orientation week, which doesn't count for much of anything.  Also, it was my first SAO (Student Activities Organization) experience.  But mostly, it was the first time I had ever seen that bit of mastery that is Tony Stark.  I mean, Robert Downey Jr. is okay looking, but strap him in to whatever that glowy thing was and teach him how to fly, and suddenly I have a huge urge to become Shion Uzuki just so that we may cross paths someday.  (Unravel that skein of thought, I dare you.)   The movie was fantastic, as was the discussion we had back in the dorm lobby about the obviously misogynistic script-writer.  But then again, what Marvel Comic is not misogynistic?  

    Saturday night I went to Meijer's and made my first replenishment journey, stocking up on Ramen and popcorn and various other foodstuffs.  I thought I had stocked up sufficiently on chips as well, but alas, when I took my new stores into the lobby for a late night snack around the developing monopoly game, I lost them forever.  I was very surprised they lasted as long as they did, actually, with all the men unleashed in the room, but evidently the word "veggie" is a deterrent for many.  But they all eventually gave in and then devoured.  I'm glad I could spread the love.

    Today I went to church for the first time in a small caravan (a Grand Prix, actually) that took speed bumps at exactly 25 mph, much to the chagrin of the tall Canadian in the back who is now recovering from a slight concussion.  We went to Madison Square Church, and I really enjoyed myself.  Their mission is diversity, so they have different styles of worship every week, and this week was Gospel...ish.  Well, as Gospel as I've ever seen coming from a predominantly white church in the suburbs.  I hope to go there next week too, for as they say, two points make a line.

    I also did laundry for the first time, and stripped and remade my bed.  It was beautifully exhausting, so I've been using this blogging time as a chance to cool off and cultivate a less disgusting smell.  

    I have just one last assignment to finish up today, and it's due Tuesday, so I'm not worried, but I should probably do it.  So, ta.


<3 spadeALLcross

9.9.08

If I ran the Interwebs...

    On Friday morning we had a worship session in the chapel before our service projects downtown, and the first song the married couple on stage played for us was "This Little Light of Mine." Now, maybe I'm biased, but that is possibly the hokiest song to sing at an adult worship service. Not only that, but the guy at least was really getting into it, adding his own little ad lib parts and singing "hallelujah, Jesus!" and very odd moments. I was taken aback, and slightly distressed, thinking maybe this is what my life is going to be like for the next four years. Next came "Lean on Me" and I nearly cried.  But since then, things have looked up for the most part.  If "Jesus Loves Me" comes up, though, I may be forced to transfer...

    "Firefly" has become a floor-wide tradition every night.  We pull out the 15" MacBook pro, a well-packaged DVD, and gather around the lobby for 45 minutes, sharing the ups and downs of Captain Malcolm Reynolds and Zoe and Wash, and it's just a good time.  If you haven't seen "Firefly," get a bunch of your nerdiest friends together, preferably late at night, and plop down in a comfy couch for a while.  You'll like it, if not love it at least.

    It's almost funny how very small the world is.  How no matter where you go, how far away from home or familiarity you find yourself, you'll always and usually unexpectedly find something or someone that is immediately and eerily recognizable to you.  You'll meet someone who watched the same obscure movie as you did when you were little, or see someone on the street wearing your favorite t-shirt, or you'll discover that a restaurant you thought was one-of-a-kind is really a very small franchise, with only two other outlets, one being right down the street from your new place.  

   Almost funny.  It's sometimes very sad.  It sometimes breaks your heart.  Because maybe you're not running away from something, but when it does come back to you in this place where you thought you were unreachable, you're so overwhelmed by its sudden reappearance that every emotion it ever stirred in you is brought back tenfold, and in this new environment, there's no one there who understands.


    That's my tattoo.  I got it in July, and I don't know why I didn't mention it here.  But there it is.  It's the reason I sign all my posts "spadeALLcross."  It's like those little brain teaser things you used to do as a kid.

    Well, I've got a fair helping of homework to get to, so I'm going to get to it.


<3 spadeALLcross

8.9.08

Here, have yet another syllabus.

First day of classes.

Japanese was interesting. The professor seems a little loopy, but very engaging, so I imagine I'll enjoy this class.

Convocation was like nothing else I'd experienced before, except maybe my friend's mom's Catholic wedding service, what with all the standing up and down, singing hymns, reciting and reading prayers, and the immense pipe organ, but it was interesting to watch.

Then I sat in my room, ate ramen, and caught up on some stuff I've been meaning to do for the past four days, including finding an ATM on campus, signing up for my band audition, and...eating ramen... Whatever. It felt excitingly productive at the time.

American Music is daunting. I feel slightly overwhelmed with the expectations already, and it's only the first day. Hopefully that will wear off as I get more into the swing of the school year. On the bright side, my big presentation for the semester is going to be on John Williams and the music of Star Wars, so destined to not be dull research there.

American Literature is also daunting, but much more down my alley.  We're rereading very little: most of the stuff I've never read before, so I'm looking forward to getting those under my belt.  

Beeteedubs, the profs for both of those seem like genuinely fantastic people, so I'm not to worried about getting along with them for the most part.

It's raining.  I wasn't expecting that, and am now wearing my second batch of clothes for the day.

Anyway...that's all I have for now.  May post something more interesting later, but that's really quite up in the air.


<3 spadeALLcross

6.9.08

The night is young and you're so beautiful...


    This and the Lord's Prayer.  That's what I was doing when my cell-phone vibrated, telling me it was 9:17 tonight.  "Hallowed be thy name," to be specific.  It felt kind of magical at the time.  In one of those little tea lights, floating on the Seminary Pond is a post-it note with my greatest fear for college, sailing away into the night, far away.  

    And now I'm watching The Funniest Moments of Robin Hood: Men in Tights in the lobby.  Magic over.


<3 spadeALLcross

5.9.08

'Cause it's 11:30 and the crowd is jumpin' jumpin'...

So xkcd has a fettish for fettishes recently. Anybody else notice?

In other news, I'm all moved in. Horray! More on that later, I guess. I was going to be a champ and post a picture or two of my Grade-A dorm, but it's currently 2:40 in the morning and the proverbial "roomie" and I are up, still organizing stuff because we share an affinity for night, one that is potentially detrimental to our college experience, as neither of us wakes up easily. Needless to say, we've skipped breakfast pretty heartily so far, and I see no change in that in the near future.

Prognosis: Calvin is thus far a hoppin' place to be. I'm pretty pumped to spend the rest of my year here, which, had you asked me three months ago, was something I did not imagine myself saying ever. I chose Calvin with every reservation possible, questioning everything: Christian aspect of the school and where that would land it on the liberal/conservative line, the size of the school and whether the quality of education would be something I could get behind, the...outgoingness?...of the school/students/random people I met while visiting that, in all honesty, just freaked me out because I'm a Gold-Card member of the I Pride group (INFJ, if you must know) and I tend to get turtle-ish if I don't check myself.

I loved the school when I visited, but after I visited other schools, especially the secular ones like Boston University, I started to have my doubts. So when I chose this as my home for the fall semester, I did it with the plan to transfer out after my first year. I don't know why in the world I chose a school I didn't really want to go to, but I did and here I am. And I'm happy.

The people are crazy. And I say that with all the love in my heart, but no joke, they are.  My orientation leader is one of the most hilarious people I've met in my life (one kid in my group grew up in Japan and taught us how to say "I love you" in Japanese, and then wrote it on the blackboard in our break-out room, and our leader insisted we use it as a chant, and that he write it on every blackboard of every room we use this week) and yet he can effectively lead a group of college freshman in serious discussions about things like homosexuality and substance abuse and racism.  My RA uses a bikers horn to worn the boys when she's coming into their wing after hours.  I just had a three-hour-long conversation about everything in the analytical world, including politics, theology, conspiracy theories, World War II...and they're still going while I'm in here blogging to retain my sanity because they can quote Nietzsche and I'm proud of my meager ration of Locke.  My roommate and I are both still actively awake at 3:00 in the morning--she's framing her pictures and mounting them on the wall, and I'm chatting it up with you.  

    Yes, there are some of the downfalls I expected, like there are some ignorant people running around, and there are people so set in their ideals that they are hard to even talk to, and I am a minority, coming from a public, out-of-state school, and the Christian Reform Church seems to be a bit different than the non-denominational goodness I got back home, but at this point, my euphoria on having found a good school that I enjoy keeps me firm in the belief that all schools have stuff/people that I wouldn't like, and I'm just glad that Calvin has so much that I do.

Right now, in this moment, I'm exuberant. That'll fade, I'm sure, as the hours wear on tomorrow after this dangerous bout of wakefulness, but for now, I'm content with just living in the happy.

Hmm. What else can I say? As I went through the past...what? three days it's been since I last left my intellectual mark upon this site, I thought of a lot of things I could mention, just in passing. But, as these things go, I've since forgotten all of them.

And we're going to bed now.

Ta.

<3 spadeALLcross

31.8.08

Perhaps I haven't been eating enough exemplary vegetables?

    If I were a super hero and I could choose my default power, I think I'd choose invisibility.  If I'm only allowed one, I can think of no better all-around champion than the ability to stand next to someone and listen to them talk about their next big dastardly plan to blow up Wayne Tower or something.
    
    But sadly, with my luck, if I were to become radioactively charged or what have you and sprout some fantastic ability out of nowhere, I probably wouldn't be able to choose it, and it probably wouldn't come out as invisibility.  No, I'd probably have very little control over any aspect of my new identity.  My name would probably be something unbelievably lame like "Oracle" or "ThirdEye" and I'd look something like the nerdiest thing this side of MIT*.


     And my power would barely be a power at all.  Something like the ability to dream in color.  I mean, if we're coming from the Stephanie Meyer perspective, that would make the most sense: I would be bringing with me one power I possessed in my normalcy to my super-cy and amplifying it.  

    Because let me tell you: I have the weirdest dreams.

    You know, there are countless people who have told me they never remember their dreams, if they even have any, and the ones they do remember are very mundane, as though they're just reliving their day minute by minute in their heads.  So what my subconscious does at night must be some sort of genetic mutation.

    Last night, for instance, I had a dream that somehow, I was still in high school, still in band, and still in Outdoor Adventure II and everything was the same as it was last year when all those things were true in real life, as well. (Which is to say, in my sleep-weakened state, I thought everything was the same, when really, nothing looked like anything I'd ever seen, and had I been trying harder, I wouldn't have recognized anyone I came into contact with)  There were some oddities in my schedule: Wind Symphony was only a Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday class at third period (a set up we endured in Junior High with some strange consequences) and the other two days, I was enrolled in Outdoor Adventure (an awesome P.E. class offered at my high school) with the main football coach for my teacher.  In fact, I was technically enrolled in that class all five days, but it was just accepted that I was to be absent Wednesdays through Fridays.  

    There were many facets to this dream, one being an activity done in the gym class involving the climbing rope doubling as a bungee cord and an unreliably springy gymnastics floor, which of course ended with me uncomfortably splayed on the floor, jaw throbbing, face reddening, and the whole class laughing at me.  (There is always some spark of truth to these things).  

    But the more interesting facet was the one involving Wednesday.  It was evidently protocol for me to check in with my gym teacher before skipping away to band, so I was doing just that, except said teacher was not letting me leave.  He insisted that, since I had arrived early (in order to arrive in the band room on time), I should help him set up the room for the activity they were planning on doing that day.  So, reluctantly, I did, and did not finish even after the bell rang to signal the start of class.  I asked Mr. D (his name was long and Italian) if I could leave, since I had another class to attend, and he said that I had to finish what I was doing first, that, if necessary, he would talk to my band director for me.  When I finally was allowed to leave, Mr. D didn't even give me a pass, so I was roaming the hall (lanyard-free, by the way, to those who care, if you happen to read this) unprotected.  

    I did finally get to the band room, which had morphed somehow into an actual classroom, complete with desks (circa third grade) and chalk boards and my band director sitting behind a computer while the rest of the students bent silently over their respective rhythm quizzes (only one who has gone through this particular band program can fully appreciate the ridiculosity of that image).  I made my way to my desk, which was nowhere near the desk of the one other person in my instrumental section, a fact that perplexed us both, judging by the shrug he gave me before returning to his quiz.  Mr. Banddirectorman called me out to his office, and I followed, with some difficulty, as everything was very cramped and no one felt it necessary to keep their belongings out of the walkways.

    When we got there, he sat down and pulled out his pad of hall passes, looking somewhat frightened for whatever reason, and asked me where I was coming from and I didn't have a pass with me.  I told him I had come from gym with Dr. Divertimento (o.O).  And without hesitation, or even waiting for me to finish my sentence, Mr. Banddirectorman forged the pass for me.  Why?  I don't know, because the only person who would need to see it was him.

    And then I woke up.

    So no superpower, just super-weird nights.


<3 spadeALLcross

* Both my father and one of my better friends has/is attended/attending MIT, so the term "nerd" is used here with due reverence and all the love in my heart.

30.8.08

"Call me up before you're dead: we can make some plans instead."

10:30

    After eighteen years of struggle, stooping over a hot blow dryer, flat iron, curling iron, and table filled with a myriad of hair products, after eighteen years of disappointment on picture day, of looks of resignation at the mirror, of avoiding photographs, video cameras, and really fast painters, my hair has finally bended to my will and does what I want it to do on cue.

    And I emptied three years worth of my life out of my car this morning, fitting it all into a time capsule marked "For my Someday Car."  

    What do they call it when everything intersects?

12:51

toothpaste for dinner



13:39

    Just got done packing up all my...stuff into boxes and Tetris-ing it into the smallest possible corner of my basement.  Well dang, I hope it all fits. 

    Now to attack my bedroom and all my clothes and such together.  Guess I'm going to go the rest of the weekend naked?  Whatever, I'm a Saggitarius; nakedness is expected of us.

14:55

    Is it seriously still saturday?

14:59

    I wonder what kind of person I would be if I had been born elsewhen than when I was.  My current ponder is the Pre-Victorian Era (does that have its own name?).  I can't stand most [fictional] women I read about who are set in that time period because they're simply so fake and obnoxious, which isn't to say any of that is entirely their fault, so much as that time in general wasn't a woman-pleasing time anymore than the rest of history.  

    But I still wonder, what would I be like if I were a Bennet sister, for example?  Would I be proud?  Or would I be quieter, more easily shattered, like Jane?  Or, heaven forbid, would I be like one of those other insufferable girls or their mother?  

    It makes me want to write a book, just to have myself as the main character and get all the possibilities down on paper.  Of course, then I'd have to Become Jane, so to speak, which is a night terror I would rather not live out.

   Although the clothes are kind of cool, and I really do enjoy the sentence structure.  No one talks like that anymore, which is really a shame.  Maybe their sentiments are skin deep and all that, but phrases like "I desire you will stay where you are" and "I was hoping, if it would not trouble you, that I might solicit a private audience with you in the course of the morning," and certainly, having drawing rooms and parlors, and calling that space in front of your door a "fo-yay" and not a "foi-urr" or a "lobby" would be perfectly lovely.  And, I know it wasn't a rule or anything that everyone should end up in only the best of situations, but I would give anything to be "completely, and perfectly, and incandescently happy."



17:42

    Ladies and gentleman...my evening in a nutshell:



21:17

    I wonder what I'll be doing this time next week.  I mean, I'll be in Michigan, in the prime of my life, without any homework or--as far as I know--any set agenda to stick to for the evening.  I wonder if I'll have made any friends by then, or if I'll be about as alone as I am now.  Will I be listening to music in my room alone, wondering where Genevieve got off to, or not listening to music because Gen's in the room and I'm self-conscious that she won't like my tune-age?  Will I be in the room at all, or will I be wandering the campus, doing who knows what?  Will I have talked to my High School friends since my departure, or will they have been temporarily taken out of my head by the pooper-scooper of business?  9:17, September 6th, 2008.  Maybe I won't have blogged in a while.  It's crazy the way time works.  Absolutely insane.

    Hi ho, let's raise a glass.  To being an us for once instead of a them.  To starting something that I'm going to finish, one way or another.

22:59

    In case anyone should ask the following questions of me when I die, please direct them here, to this blog post, which shall serve as a sort of snap-shot of my life.  Note: This is not me being dramatic; everyone dies at some point.  Really, I just couldn't think of any better way to introduce this.

    Favorite Lord of the Rings Character(s): Aragorn (am I right or am I right?) and Samwise Gamgee.
    Twilight Team:  New Moon/Breaking Dawn Jacob.  Everything else, Edward.
    Most admirable trait as portrayed by Shawn Spencer: Randomness of wit.
    Middle Name: OrganizedClutter.  No hyphen.
    Future Husband: Henry DeTamble or Gino, if either of them are still around at that point.
    Desired country of Residence at the age of 25: Japan or Ireland.
    Song stuck in my head right now: "La vie Bohem"
    Song playing on Reggie right now:  "Lullaby" (Josh Groban)
    Who is Reggie: my iPod.
    Desktop picture: fake psychic. real detectives.
    What I want to be when I'm grown up: a sugarless gum connoisseur.  Or a High School English teacher.  It's a toss-up.
    Phrase I'm most trying to adopt into my daily vernacular: "dare say"
    Current mood: 


    So, to whomever is keeping the notorious record, let it show that this was how I spent my last Saturday before my first week of college.


<3 spadeALLcross

29.8.08

I dunno, Jeb. I just dunno.

    I have posted a few times in a row now, haven't I?  Either I'm feeling more inspired than usual of late, or I simply have less to do.  Give you one guess which one of those is right.  I'll give you a hint: I haven't felt inspired (by anything but Gino and Danny Concannon) since the summer after my junior year of high school.  (yes, that was last summer.  what of it?  I feel older now...that's all that counts.)

    Anyway.  

    I'm an issues voter, I believe, not that I've yet had much experience, but that's what I believe anyway.  And if there were going to be an issue that would sway my vote the most, I don't think it would be health care or capital punishment or social security or the economy or school vouchers or...yeah, anything that's out there right now.  No, they'd have to invent a whole new issue to get me to really turn my head one direction or the other.  Don't get me wrong, this particular issue is one that has existed as long as the sands on the shores of the seas, my friends.  However, it's never been given any serious attention.

    But now I have the ears of...well...not many, maybe, but...yeah, a few.  The Internet as my sword and my as-anonymous-as-possible identity as my shield, I will cast a mighty blow to this thing, this tempest, this plague upon both of our proverbial houses:

SEXUAL TENSION .

    You know it.  I know it.  The socially stunted junior high kids know it.  This monster is everywhere: it hides in our daily conversations with people who could be our best friends, it burrows itself into the dashboard when two people reach for the stereo switch at the same awkward moment, it laughs conspicuously and loudly in our blushing faces when we realize that our good-natured attempts at being good people have just been taken the wrong way.  The wrong way.  That's what this monster is called.  Because sex doesn't even have to have anything to do with it.  Just people thinking other people are thinking something that those other people aren't thinking, and rethinking all of this too late.

    I grew up in a family filled with testosterone: three older brothers, a father, and a decidedly male dog.  It was just me, my mom, and the two aloof cats (and for a time, the guinea pig) without that pesky Y chromosome that causes so much trouble.  So I relate nicely to guys.  Often more nicely than I do to girls, or at least it feels that way to me, so I have several good friends who are all of the man type.  Now, as I venture off into the wild blue that is college and the life here and after, I'm leaving several of those friendships with the man types by the regretful wayside, bidding them an indefinite farewell, hoping that it's not the end, but realizing that it probably will be anyway.  And all I want to do, as the inescapably emotional girl that I am, is tell these swell fellas that I'm probably going to miss them scads more than they realize, and that, at least for a little while, my life was a bit more frolic-and-gambol than oh-gosh-did-I-really-wake-up-this-morning-and-is-it-too-late-to-fix-that? and I have them to thank for that.

    But every time I strategize ways of doing that, the wrong way stares back at me, its red, slitty eyes smiling in a very Voldermort-esque manner, and I put my pen/phone/keyboard/car keys down and I return to my seclusion, figuring I'll just let our relationship fade and they'll just have to trust that I did care, even though, in the end, their gender was just too much for me to handle.

    In a better world, this wouldn't be this challenging.  But what can we do?  I swear, Rubik invented the symbol for every interaction people will ever have with each other.  

    And what's worse is we're getting rid of my car tomorrow.  I was wrong about the four days.  And thus it was a carless age of my life began and The Fellowship of the Camry, though enternally bound by friendship and love and a bonding experience of a fender bender, will be ended.

    So long, good buddy, it's been a nice run.  Thank you for the music.



<3 spadeALLcross

28.8.08

"You have to leave the ground to learn to fly."

    Well, gents.  I'm in love.  It's official.  That unnamed man I mentioned yesterday, the man with whom I'm going to settle down?  Well, I met him today.  We're going to get married, buy ourselves a farm in West Virginia, have six kids, go to church together every Sunday, and live happily ever after for the rest of eternity.

    His name is Gino.  He's in the CCC, building a national park for FDR.  Oh, right, and he's fictional.  I can't find an adequate picture of him from the show, so you'll just have to use your imagination, I guess.  

    But he stayed with the Waltons for a couple days after he sprained his ankle in their woods (while in a knife fight with John Boy, beeteedubs) and he was all defensive and aloof, but then when Elizabeth's raccoon, Pete died, he was very sensitive and understanding, trying to explain death to her in a way she could understand, even though, throughout the entire episode, he acted like he didn't care about her.  

    I don't know...he was inspiring.  A very cheesy, over-used character, fo shiz, but...I don't know.  Something about his hermit-like existence...it got to me.  Anyway, moving on.  Quickly.

    I've found my new favorite hobby.  Sadly, it's going to be short-lived under the circumstances, but I suppose that's a good thing, too.  See, I was driving my friend home tonight after he hung out at my house for a bit, playing the video games, you know, and as I turned the corner to return home, Lay it On Me came on my CD (a song that, if you're observant or friendly, you will have noticed is one of my favorites right now).  I had this long open, dark road in front of me, but as the song ripped away at my speakers, I felt the road was not long enough, so I continued past my street on into the night.

     I'm addicted.



    To this.  

    It's bad for the environment to use that much gas, I know, and my mom was waiting up for me, and we're giving Cameron (my car) away to a charity since his plates expire at the end of the month, and I love driving fast, which is desperately unsafe at night in the suburbs (all the ridiculous I'm-cool-because-I-haven't-fallen-asleep-yet youngsters running rampant and such, you know how it is) but I can't help it.  Long stretches of almost-empty road, the cool, humid air whistling past the just-open-enough windows, the disapproving looks from older drivers at stoplights when they feel my base pumping the cement around us...it's what I imagine to be intoxicating.

    You know that there are just some situations in which you find yourself where you feel like if you leave voluntarily, you'll miss something huge, life-changing, momentous, or in some way important.  Certain songs play, and you feel like they have a destiny, like they belong in a special place or time, like only on the road, or only when you're reading, or only when you're lonely and would rather burrow into the deepest, loneliest part of yourself than try to face the deeper places outside.  Feelings, both sensory and emotional, wash over you, and suddenly every nerve in your skin feels raw, like every brush of air stings wounds that have never really healed.  That's what the drive felt like to me tonight.  I drove for more miles than I dared, but fewer than I would have liked to.

    And it hurt to stop, but I did.  After several Paramore songs and All Over You, to name a few, I finally pulled into my driveway and begrudgingly turned the key in the ignition.  And a little part of me died.

    I've only got four days left with my car.  It makes me want to cry.  No joke.  

    But Gino will get me through it, I'm sure.


<3 spadeALLcross

27.8.08

Should auld acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind...

Horray for post number ten!  

    Now, if it were up to me, I wouldn't count that edit post down there, because hardly any thought went into it and it's only a sentence and a fragment long.

    On that same strain, I wouldn't even count the one before that, because again, little brain power and less substance are behind it.  

    But who's couting?  Blogspot.  Yet another thing in my life I am not in control of.  One thing I am in control of, though, is how many sentences I can end in prepositions.  Here's to you, John Dryden.

    I was thinking the other day about that timeless question: what separates us from the animals?  Many things have been suggested in the past: inquisitive minds, the stock market, opposable thumbs...but as I was thinking about it, I was eating lunch with my brother and I made a breakthrough realization.  

    Facial Hair.






    I could just say vanity in general, but I think that may be taking things a bit too far, as I cannot pretend that cats don't have a certain pompous expression on their face whenever they lick themselves, like, "watch me make myself irresistible."
   
    But think for a minute about how Ludacris it is.  For one thing, humans have hair in the weirdest and most sporadic places, whereas the rest of the animal kingdom goes the all-or-nothing route.  Not only that, but for all the care we take of our dead follicles, you'd think we have some species-wide necrophilia or something.  We shave, we gel, we wax, we pluck...did you know that the average person spends two years of their life primping their hair alone?  I would say that average women bring this number up from more reasonable heights, but then I look at the aforepictured people who not only spend time, but also money on making their beards look good.

    I assure you, if and when I do finally settle down, my choice of man will probably have little to do with the quality of the dead cells on his face.  I say probably only because I've seen some almost-normal people turned creeper by the state of the hair on their face.

    Forgive me.  College students don't do early morning.  I don't know what I was thinking waking up and doing a blog post first thing. 


<3 spadeALLcross

23.8.08

EDIT: I haven't taken German since I was in High School

I'm sorry.  I meant

Warum? Was habe ich gemacht, dass Gott dieses zu mich getan hat?  Ich weiss nicht.

Gracias por su paciencia.

<3 spadeALLcross

"If you need to leave it, leave it...."

    Now entering the Twilight Zone of summer: my old high school started classes this past week, and, officially, as of today, the majority of my friends, both in-college and in-high-school have moved on into fall, and yet...here I am.

    Done with work now, and still summering. Warum? Was habe ich gemacht, dass Gott es zu mich gemacht? Ich wiess nicht.

    Ha ha, not much of a post. I just wanted to write in German, I guess.


<3 spadeALLcross