"Well it's about freaking time!" That's what you're saying right now, I know it. I'm thinking the same thing.
I moved in on Friday, in 90 degree heat without AC, up four flights of stairs without an elevator. But it actually was not bad--my mom and I got a lot of help from some of the guys in the house, and while I felt pretty gross, I was too excited to really care very much. My room, I think, looks pretty fantastic: most everything matches, I have several chairs so people can sit when they visit, and my Christmas lights held up by turquoise duct tape are pretty hot. I woke up on Saturday after my first night sleeping here and already I felt like I was at home, so I think that's a good sign.
Friday night a group from the house went to Pilsen for delicious (and cheap) Mexican, so I finally got to meet some of the "firsties." They are pretty hip, I must say. I'm excited to get to know them even better.
Yesterday there were quite a few Salisburians at brunch--I was there for 2 hours as people came and went, and it felt just like any other Saturday, except better because I was noticing how good it felt be be there. And after church, I met up with people again for Thai at The Snail and desserts and whatnot at the Museum of Science and Industry. We saw the Imax on Antarctica--it was pretty intense, let me tell you :) Dancing penguins ftw.
By the end of the night, my cold was getting the better of me, so I went straight to bed when we got home. Sickness ftl? I hate it. But I feel better now after sleeping, so perhaps it is going away.
23 September 2007
14 September 2007
<3 Salisbury
(Does anyone in Salisbury read this?)
To begin, I have a confession: I have spent a good deal of time this summer thinking about transferring schools. I do not know where, just somewhere that is not the University of Chicago. This reasoning may sound ridiculous, but really it is the school's ridiculous schedule that has turned me off to the entire institution.
To rush an entire quarter of my education, finishing the year two and a half weeks early, is insanity. First of all, I did not have time to process the fact that, hey, I just finished my first year of college! I am one to generally remain calm as events unfold, but I need to take the time to think/journal/meditate about what has just occurred, or I become emotionally numb and confused, incapable of feeling much of anything until I later explode quite randomly. I never processed my first year. And once I got to Virginia, I feel that I missed out on some of the socialization and emotional processing that went on during training, because between sessions I was rushing back to my room to study for the final exam that I still needed to take the following week, instead of hanging out on the porch. Then when I got back home, I needed some time to think, but I found myself drowning in that time waiting for school to start, bored and still emotionally numb--sitting and doing nothing but thinking would have been torture, and I had all kinds of time to do it, so I did not think at all.
In a nutshell, UChicago's deviant schedule made working for ASP difficult, both logistically and emotionally.
But I still, as always, find myself in love with ASP, setting it far above any school on my very short list of fantastic-amazing-incredible experiences that make me feel alive. Having rushed so much to leave, I felt very little connection with the school--it has seemed to me nothing but an obstacle. As a result, I have thought and said pretty much every negative thing that there is to be said about the school. Not all of them were untrue: theory is not always practical, socialization can be difficult, maybe fun really does die... it really is difficult to find groups of people with similar interests, but then, the failing in that area is more my own fault than the school's. But I digress--the point is, I was hatin'.
Today, however, was anything but hateful. I visited the incredible Salisbury House to help with decorations, and it was ten kinds of a good time. After dinner, I was hugging everyone goodbye, and suddenly I felt extremely content. Blue skies, silver trumpets, sunshine, rainbows, all that crap. What the heck? On the ride home, I turned off the radio and thought about how everything seems to be lined up so perfectly right now--my house-mates are incredible people, the campus is gorgeous, my room is even more fantastic than I imagined, and even the house theme is ten times better than I anticipated. Thank you to everyone who was there for a really incredible day.
This burst of good feeling towards my school makes me very excited for next week when I (finally!) get to move in. But in terms of next summer, I have to wonder if my suddenly strengthened attachment to my school will make my life more difficult--at some point, I may have to chose between UChicago and ASP. I do not think I can do both (although I certainly intend to try) and ASP is still something I am in love with.
So while today brought me this incredible warm-fuzzy "OMG UChicago" feeling, I still have a lot of figuring out to do, and I think attachment is going to make future choices more costly, like the $20 parking + $9.89 lunch I spent today despite the beauty of everything else. I may be grounded in two places all at once. I have no more conclusion to offer.
<3 ASP
<3 Salisbury
ASP + Salisbury =
To begin, I have a confession: I have spent a good deal of time this summer thinking about transferring schools. I do not know where, just somewhere that is not the University of Chicago. This reasoning may sound ridiculous, but really it is the school's ridiculous schedule that has turned me off to the entire institution.
To rush an entire quarter of my education, finishing the year two and a half weeks early, is insanity. First of all, I did not have time to process the fact that, hey, I just finished my first year of college! I am one to generally remain calm as events unfold, but I need to take the time to think/journal/meditate about what has just occurred, or I become emotionally numb and confused, incapable of feeling much of anything until I later explode quite randomly. I never processed my first year. And once I got to Virginia, I feel that I missed out on some of the socialization and emotional processing that went on during training, because between sessions I was rushing back to my room to study for the final exam that I still needed to take the following week, instead of hanging out on the porch. Then when I got back home, I needed some time to think, but I found myself drowning in that time waiting for school to start, bored and still emotionally numb--sitting and doing nothing but thinking would have been torture, and I had all kinds of time to do it, so I did not think at all.
In a nutshell, UChicago's deviant schedule made working for ASP difficult, both logistically and emotionally.
But I still, as always, find myself in love with ASP, setting it far above any school on my very short list of fantastic-amazing-incredible experiences that make me feel alive. Having rushed so much to leave, I felt very little connection with the school--it has seemed to me nothing but an obstacle. As a result, I have thought and said pretty much every negative thing that there is to be said about the school. Not all of them were untrue: theory is not always practical, socialization can be difficult, maybe fun really does die... it really is difficult to find groups of people with similar interests, but then, the failing in that area is more my own fault than the school's. But I digress--the point is, I was hatin'.
Today, however, was anything but hateful. I visited the incredible Salisbury House to help with decorations, and it was ten kinds of a good time. After dinner, I was hugging everyone goodbye, and suddenly I felt extremely content. Blue skies, silver trumpets, sunshine, rainbows, all that crap. What the heck? On the ride home, I turned off the radio and thought about how everything seems to be lined up so perfectly right now--my house-mates are incredible people, the campus is gorgeous, my room is even more fantastic than I imagined, and even the house theme is ten times better than I anticipated. Thank you to everyone who was there for a really incredible day.
This burst of good feeling towards my school makes me very excited for next week when I (finally!) get to move in. But in terms of next summer, I have to wonder if my suddenly strengthened attachment to my school will make my life more difficult--at some point, I may have to chose between UChicago and ASP. I do not think I can do both (although I certainly intend to try) and ASP is still something I am in love with.
So while today brought me this incredible warm-fuzzy "OMG UChicago" feeling, I still have a lot of figuring out to do, and I think attachment is going to make future choices more costly, like the $20 parking + $9.89 lunch I spent today despite the beauty of everything else. I may be grounded in two places all at once. I have no more conclusion to offer.
<3 ASP
<3 Salisbury
ASP + Salisbury =
13 September 2007
But I'm Still Here
... says Vertical Horizon. And says me, too.
But not for long! Tomorrow I get to at least visit and help decorate the grand estate that is Salisbury House, and then I move in next Friday.
I thought of the phrase "silvery sigh" or "silvered sigh" and I want to put it in a poem, but I am otherwise uninspired. That's pretty much all that my mind has accomplished today--I am actually jealous of my brothers' homework. How sick is that?
The rest of me was more productive today. I stained and polyurethaned the shelves that I bought yesterday for my bedroom at Ikea--I would be assembling them right now if they weren't supposed to dry for 24 hours. I ran some errands, picked my brother up from school, finished moving the rest of my stuff into my room... I also went for a run, and managed to make three miles. I was proud :p
Now I am excited to finish watching the second half of Hamlet with Kenneth Branagh on DVD. Sexy.
If anyone reads this anymore... sorry I'm boring :p
But not for long! Tomorrow I get to at least visit and help decorate the grand estate that is Salisbury House, and then I move in next Friday.
I thought of the phrase "silvery sigh" or "silvered sigh" and I want to put it in a poem, but I am otherwise uninspired. That's pretty much all that my mind has accomplished today--I am actually jealous of my brothers' homework. How sick is that?
The rest of me was more productive today. I stained and polyurethaned the shelves that I bought yesterday for my bedroom at Ikea--I would be assembling them right now if they weren't supposed to dry for 24 hours. I ran some errands, picked my brother up from school, finished moving the rest of my stuff into my room... I also went for a run, and managed to make three miles. I was proud :p
Now I am excited to finish watching the second half of Hamlet with Kenneth Branagh on DVD. Sexy.
If anyone reads this anymore... sorry I'm boring :p
11 September 2007
Green
My bedroom is green. It is also half the size it used to be.
My house is kind of like a circus. Teal, bright green, dark green, light green, grey, light yellow, canary yellow, dark red, tan... and white on the ceilings. I suppose the colors fit my family, though. We're a bit out there, a bit insane, but still have the common sense to keep the ceilings white. I like the canary yellow kitchen for my mom because she is always laughing. I like the light green in my bedroom because I've gotten much calmer than I used to be, and sometimes like to think I'm pretty. I don't understand the teal in Mike's room; but then, I don't really understand Mike all that much, so I guess it fits.
Talking about all this color, I think it would be very sad to be color blind. Or blind at all, really. But then, I suppose I would notice other things, like smells and sounds and touches, and still be able to associate them with different family members. And it would be more difficult to be racist.
My mind is kind of like a circus right now, too. It reminds me of the stacks of books and papers and binders scattered on the floor waiting for me to buy new shelves--disorganized, chaotic. I should have thrown away some of that stuff a long time ago, but for whatever reason, I like to save certain things. What if I need it later? I'll keep it jumbled up in the grey matter for a little longer. And I'm not sure that thoughts can actually be consciously thrown away. Usually I'm either happily remembering, or cursing and wanting to forget but finding myself incapable of doing so--I've never really considered whether or not it's possible to rethink a thought that's been successfully disposed of.
It's like this little blister slash cut on my finger that would heal if I didn't keep picking at it. But I keep picking anyway--maybe I want it there. Maybe it fits perfectly. Maybe it matches the paint under my fingernails but I'm too concerned about the color of things to notice.
My house is kind of like a circus. Teal, bright green, dark green, light green, grey, light yellow, canary yellow, dark red, tan... and white on the ceilings. I suppose the colors fit my family, though. We're a bit out there, a bit insane, but still have the common sense to keep the ceilings white. I like the canary yellow kitchen for my mom because she is always laughing. I like the light green in my bedroom because I've gotten much calmer than I used to be, and sometimes like to think I'm pretty. I don't understand the teal in Mike's room; but then, I don't really understand Mike all that much, so I guess it fits.
Talking about all this color, I think it would be very sad to be color blind. Or blind at all, really. But then, I suppose I would notice other things, like smells and sounds and touches, and still be able to associate them with different family members. And it would be more difficult to be racist.
My mind is kind of like a circus right now, too. It reminds me of the stacks of books and papers and binders scattered on the floor waiting for me to buy new shelves--disorganized, chaotic. I should have thrown away some of that stuff a long time ago, but for whatever reason, I like to save certain things. What if I need it later? I'll keep it jumbled up in the grey matter for a little longer. And I'm not sure that thoughts can actually be consciously thrown away. Usually I'm either happily remembering, or cursing and wanting to forget but finding myself incapable of doing so--I've never really considered whether or not it's possible to rethink a thought that's been successfully disposed of.
It's like this little blister slash cut on my finger that would heal if I didn't keep picking at it. But I keep picking anyway--maybe I want it there. Maybe it fits perfectly. Maybe it matches the paint under my fingernails but I'm too concerned about the color of things to notice.
05 September 2007
There's Something Badass About Home Depot
The highlight of my day today was taking Tommy and driving my dad's Ford F-150 (color: Black) to Home Depot in order to buy him two bundles of ridge cap shingles (color: Weathered Wood) to finish the roof of the shed (style: hip), and explaining to Tommy the difference between a drill and a hammer drill while waiting for a rather attractive young man to retrieve our desired shingles from the top shelves with the fork lift.
BAMF d:|
BAMF d:|
03 September 2007
See Photo
And I Have Shed No Tear Since
I haven’t cried since July third
when I became nothing but paper and pen
tossed carelessly on an empty wooden bench
where the leafy canopy was a halo,
wrapping in yellow my
blue ink smudges still searching
for God in the margins.
It was almost enough that I could be ruffled by the wind,
modest enough for a deer to trust
yet alert enough to free thought,
like light releases summer’s colors—
brilliant linens and blinding daffodil.
But then I became like too many unanswered prayers,
verses pleading for truth and certainty,
each line as biting and unforgiving as the next,
until a river ran through me.
Each tear was a question,
ruining every controlled motion of my pen.
All I knew, once darkness fell,
was what star to look for,
if not where to find it,
and I was numb
both to the blackness of the night
and the quiet warmth of the moon.
I haven’t cried since July third
when I became nothing but paper and pen
tossed carelessly on an empty wooden bench
where the leafy canopy was a halo,
wrapping in yellow my
blue ink smudges still searching
for God in the margins.
It was almost enough that I could be ruffled by the wind,
modest enough for a deer to trust
yet alert enough to free thought,
like light releases summer’s colors—
brilliant linens and blinding daffodil.
But then I became like too many unanswered prayers,
verses pleading for truth and certainty,
each line as biting and unforgiving as the next,
until a river ran through me.
Each tear was a question,
ruining every controlled motion of my pen.
All I knew, once darkness fell,
was what star to look for,
if not where to find it,
and I was numb
both to the blackness of the night
and the quiet warmth of the moon.
Processing
Rereading my journal, I came across another excerpt to share. I'm not sure if anyone even reads my blog, even with it imported to Facebook. But if you do, that's great--if you don't, that's great, too.
*** *** ***And to end on a happier note, here is something amusing that happened:
13 July 2007
11:22 pm
Something I want to remember from this summer: it's the little things that are most awesome. ASP staffers find joy in the strangest things, and I want to take that enthusiasm for life's little quirks home with me. Bubba at the h'ware store is awesome. Why? Because he has a mullet and wears plaid and knows everything. And the Webb's house is awesome. Why? Because they're so full of love, plus we just this week finished installing 4-60' girder beams under their floors. Awesome. I love how it's usually people that staffers find to be awesome--I want to find that back home, too. That wholesome, friendly, accepting feeling.
Surprising my church with a visit yesterday was also awesome. I'm so proud of my dad, how he told me he wishes he could take that "warm fuzziness" from ASP back home with him forever. He's grown, but I think still growing. It was really, really great to see all of them. Really great.
I don't want to write anything depressing. The... group... with St. M's was awful--to the point Howard didn't want to insult my "lady-like" ears with what the 20 year old GL was doing. Gross?
And Wild Cherry--the situation at [this particular] home is one I don't feel ready to confront. We're not working there anymore. I actually felt faint and nauseous hearing about it. The isolation of the mother--the 9-year-old girl's description of sexual abuse--the mother jaded by her own abuse--and there isn't anything we can do except report it to social services.
I'm not prepared to think about that.
*** *** ***
*** *** ***I later found out that our cook had found it on the floor in the kitchen and thrown it away, thinking it was some kind of prank. The assistant cook might have carried it in with the towels and dropped it en route to the cabinets? Who knows.
20 July 07
12:47 am
This morning I woke up and realized that I had forgotten to take my laundry out of the dryer. Dammit. I went to retrieve it, only to discover that our staff liaison had folded it for me so that he could dry his own clothes. He folded probably better than I would have, I was impressed :)
But something was missing. Something rather awkward. I knew for certain I had put a pink bra in with that load. But where did it go?
Awkward.
So I thanked Ryan for folding my clothes, but then I had to ask him where it might have gone. He remembered it--he had put it on top of the towels, he said, to avoid touching it. Ok. So I went back to look for towels.
No towels. No pink bra.
But then, as I was looking around confused, Ryan met me in the laundry room and motioned for me to follow him. He led me to the kitchen.
"So I was eating pizza."
"Ok."
"And I had a napkin for my pizza and when I finished my pizza I went to throw it away and... look what I found." He pointed to the garbage can.
What the hell?
Awkward. But hilarious. Kristina and Ryan were wondering how we could make an announcement to the church group asking for the return of a missing bra... interesting possibilities, no? :)
*** *** ***
02 September 2007
Good Weekend
My dad didn't know how to put on a ridge vent--that is, until I told him. He might put one on the shed he's building (it's a pretty hard-core little house, let me tell you) and was wondering aloud about how it should be installed. I had a mini flashback of climbing up a rather steep hip roof to inspect a newly installed ridge vent (only to discover that I'd have to come back later with some tar because the group left one stinking nail head exposed) and then I remembered--I know how to install one! It was a happy moment.
I also advised him that Gatorade is not a very good mixer. His look told me that he was going to try it with Grey Goose anyway and I probably shouldn't be giving him advice on drinking until I'm old enough to actually know... :)
Septemberfest has been fun so far. Tonight there was a local band, 7th Heaven, opening for John Waite. They did covers of oldies and some of their own stuff. Despite their having the worse band name ever, they were very energetic, very good--and did I mention the lead singer had a pretty hot Irish accent? They had tshirts... my grandma bought me one.
John Waite sang well, but had absolutely no personality. How can you frown when you're singing about smiling? And I didn't really know any of his music, so I zoned out halfway through and started thinking about random stuff: "I wonder if my back tanned at all when I was floating in Lauren's pool earlier today? 'Hell is for Children' made me sad yesterday."
Tomorrow I will most likely end up watching the parade and having lunch with Lauren and her family. They always have beef sandwiches... yummy...
I've been running almost every day (be proud :) But the way I keep mentioning food in this post makes me wonder how it is that the new jeans I bought 2 weeks ago are already feeling a bit baggy :p
I also advised him that Gatorade is not a very good mixer. His look told me that he was going to try it with Grey Goose anyway and I probably shouldn't be giving him advice on drinking until I'm old enough to actually know... :)
Septemberfest has been fun so far. Tonight there was a local band, 7th Heaven, opening for John Waite. They did covers of oldies and some of their own stuff. Despite their having the worse band name ever, they were very energetic, very good--and did I mention the lead singer had a pretty hot Irish accent? They had tshirts... my grandma bought me one.
John Waite sang well, but had absolutely no personality. How can you frown when you're singing about smiling? And I didn't really know any of his music, so I zoned out halfway through and started thinking about random stuff: "I wonder if my back tanned at all when I was floating in Lauren's pool earlier today? 'Hell is for Children' made me sad yesterday."
Tomorrow I will most likely end up watching the parade and having lunch with Lauren and her family. They always have beef sandwiches... yummy...
I've been running almost every day (be proud :) But the way I keep mentioning food in this post makes me wonder how it is that the new jeans I bought 2 weeks ago are already feeling a bit baggy :p
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