with 8 days to spare!

I almost made it a whole year without a post! haha. oops.

anyway, I've just spent the last 45 minutes or so looking back through this blog. I've had the itch to blog lately, but I'm an easily-distractable girl. always. still. even at 25.

I figured I'd post here for now, but this doesn't really feel like my place anymore. I never really made it mine, and in so many of my posts, I can read between my own lines & see the me who is always trying not to look too bad but to still be honest and and and. which is fair, because who wants to look bad? but that's not where I want to be in my life. I hide all the time, everywhere, always. so when I finally possibly maybe commit to blogging, I don't want to hide. fair?

in the meantime, my dear 7 followers, I love you all. I miss having you in my life, and I'll be sure to post a link to my new blog here somewhere. when I start it. ;)

oy.

sometimes I get so overwhelmed with love for people -- even (& sometimes especially) strangers -- that I feel like my heart could just burst without warning.

antsy.

I'm struggling with a lot of arguments on all sides of everything (literally everything. not just politics. promise.) lately, & my inability to articulate my own thoughts on it all is making me antsy.

All I've really managed to do is acquire a desperate, grasping hope that I've somehow not yet succumbed to doing the very things that make me cringe.

Thing that make you go "hm."

Word.

busy-ness & getting old.

It's been a while, & it's late, so this post won't be that great (except that it just rhymed. that's pretty fantastic). At this very moment in time, I only have one thing to really address here, & that is the fact that for my 24th birthday, I received, among other things, Ninja Turtles wall decals. Who am I?

I'll write more soon. But that was my philosophical dilemma at 2:30 in the morning that I just had to share with you. :)

sweet words

So I started reading this blog over a year ago. Somewhere along the line, I started reading her husband's blog (they're both on the same site, so either use the links I've given, or click between "he said" & "she said"), & I haven't once been left bored after reading. This time, though, I all but cried.

They're about to have their second child, a boy, & this post nearly ruined me. It's stunning.

If you read little else of beauty in your life today, you should at least read that one post.

oh what a day.

Yesterday was decidedly one of the stranger days I've had.

I have a full week off of both my new job (which I really should talk about at some point) and grad school, which is glorious, but I'd so settled into an ultra-busy rhythm already that it feels weird. Anyway, I woke up at 6:30 -- far too early for a Monday off -- on my friend's bedroom floor. Her room is across the hall, & we had been watching a movie the night before, & apparently that was too much for me & I fell asleep. So I dragged myself up & across the hall to my room, where I decided that the smart thing to do would be to get started on my paper that was due in my professor's inbox in 11 hours. So I did. Sort of.

I started by checking my email, because isn't that a necessary thing to do before writing a paper? Then, of course, there was facebook. I must be growing up, though, because I was only on for a few minutes. Honest. I was so proud. My second email account was where I got caught up. A dear friend of mine with whom I lived in London for that semester so long ago had sent a freshly-written play to all of us (her fellow Londoners) in which she reminisced beautifully about the life-changing time we spent in that beautiful, grimy, overflowing city. I can't even begin to explain to you what that semester meant to all of us as perfectly and gracefully as she did, but suffice it to say that after reading it, my mind was utterly lost to reminiscence, & my heart ached happily under the weight of all of those fading memories. There is so much that goes into what I remember about who I was in London in the Spring of 2006, but that's for another time.

I tore myself away from the London in my mind to finish the assignment at hand. After sifting through the jumble of art & music & history & beauty for however long I'd let my mind wander, there was something even more unattractive about writing an artless, dull paper on five research studies that had themselves been poorly-done to begin with. At moments like that, when something one loves is so plainly and painfully juxtaposed next to something so lifeless, the outcome is never good for the currently lifeless thing. I could feel my thoughts spiraling into an minor existential crisis that I could not afford to be in with a paper, lifeless or otherwise, due in just hours, so I barreled on.

Then came the rain. Or so it felt. I was wading through a long list of very unhelpful resources, trying to figure out an APA citation (see? lifeless.) for at least a half-hour. Then I received a text that my grandpa, who went into the hospital on Thursday for one thing & was kept there on Saturday for a completely different thing, was not exactly doing better. The text wasn't quite as grave as it might have been, but when you love someone as much as we all love Pappy, any less-than-ideal news is, well, terrifying. Following that text was another from my mom, only this time she was asking me if I could watch my baby sister (who had of course been sick since Sunday. why not?) because there was another health concern with another person &...

The day more or less went on like this. Texts & emails & calls that just added to the stress. I did find out that my new apartment will be ready for me to move in on Friday, but in the midst of a day like yesterday, that was bad news, because OHMYLORD, I HAVEN'T PACKED & I HAVE NO FOOD & WHAT ABOUT THAT ALARM I NEED TO BUY SO NO SCARY PEOPLE CAN COME IN AT NIGHT WITHOUT ME KNOWING.

Really, I'm amazed that the paper ever got finished. But it did. I clicked send at 5:29 & sat back with a long sigh. Life's like this sometimes, I guess, but I don't think you ever grow accustomed to it. Not completely.

My apologies for the long, overly-ponderous post. It's really quite okay if you don't read it all the way through or if you don't read it at all. I'm willing to bet, though, that you've all had plenty of strange days like these. Their usefulness lies in their incredible ability to remind us of who & where we are, like it or not. And we really should choose to like it rather than not, because who & where we are, regardless of how it may look, is a necessary part of the who & where we will someday be. Which is, I think, a beautiful thing.

the serial killer next door

This will be a short post. It's bed time, & what I have to say won't take long. All I really came here to tell you, internet, was this:

I've just started apartment hunting. In fact, my first one was on Monday. You know what I found out after my appointment with the landlady? That Arthur Shawcross used to live there. The kicker is not only did he live there, but that was the last place he lived before his final arrest. That was WHERE HE LIVED WHEN HE KILLED HIS LAST TWELVE WOMEN (shudder).

So, about the apartment I'm going to visit tomorrow...

pickled eyes

A couple nights ago, Mattea (my 17-year-old sister) & I were tucking Zoe (our 7-year-old sister) in bed for the night. While I picked out her bedtime story from the MILLIONS okay, not quite millions, but really close of books on Zoe's shelf, Mattea drew a picture for her on her easel. The picture started with a pretty fabulous-looking tree, and then she decided to draw Zoe standing under the tree. As a cute little cartoon version of Zoe materialized on the white board, this is what I heard:

Mattea: "...here's your hair...your dress... your big-old-eyes..."
Zoe: "HEY!! I don't have pickled eyes!!!"

Oh, to be 7. It was a perfect moment with my little sisters.

gratefulness

I have so much to be so grateful for right now, but of course I've been nothing but miserable (at least inwardly miserable) for days. It's just so hard to see outside myself sometimes, & as selfish as that makes me sound, it's so true. So to snap myself out of this ridiculous, stress-induced funk, I've decided to make a list of things (typical & not-so) that I'm grateful for (just a tad bit late for Thanksgiving, I realize):

-my huge, confusing, beautiful family.
-my friends. everywhere. houghton, naz, & scattered in various places across the globe. I wish I could gather you all in one place sometime. I'm positive you'd all love each other.
-the bird singing outside my window at this very moment, reminding me that spring is somewhere in our future.
-beauty. there's so much of it in this world that it overwhelms me. constantly.
-the fact that it's solely my prerogative whether I choose to capitalize sentences or not.
-words, music, & art. without these, life would be so plain. I'd also be a lot less geeky, which would be kind of boring.
-my two new jobs, neither of which have started yet (which gives me a solid week & a half to get my act together).
-grad school. it's one of the hardest things I've ever loved.
-my lovely man (have I mentioned that this list is not at all in order of importance?). luke is at the tippy-top of my friend list, but he really deserves a number all to himself. he's my very best friend, & I can't even begin to explain how happy I am to have him in my life.
-of course, jesus. I really & truly cannot conceive of a life without faith. oh, I'm sure it can be done. it's just that I don't want to try it. & while I'm on the subject, boy, has my faith ever changed in my (almost) 24 years on this earth. if I could go back, I certainly wouldn't change anything, but I'm very glad to be just exactly where I am.
-& if I'm being really honest, I have to include myself in here somewhere. when no one else is around, it's just me, god, & the dust bunnies. I'm learning to enjoy that quiet space.

Jack Kerouac, who happens to be one of my favorites (haters: don't even get me started.), includes this in his Belief and Technique for Modern Prose:

"Be in love with your life"

I intend to.

the easiest test I'll ever pass

This morning, I had to come out early to Rochester for my drug test for Mary Cariola. I definitely have no cause to be nervous, but I also wasn't exactly excited by the thought of having hair clipped from several places on my head to be tested in a lab. It's kind of just weird.

The place was really nice. I walked in & there wasn't a soul in the waiting room, which is always a good sign. I filled out my paperwork, sat there awkwardly for a few minutes, and finally my name was called. I was about 5 feet from the door when the woman, who looked far too posh to be stuffed in a doctor's office said, "Oh my gosh, look how cute you are!"

Let me tell you, internet, I was expecting to lose hair; I was expecting to sign papers. Having someone fawn over my good-smelling hair, my "cute personality," and my "ADORABLE OUTFIT," and lamenting over the lack of engagement ring on my finger (hey, she asked) was so not what I expected. It almost kind of makes me want to go back for another drug test the next time I'm needing a little self-esteem boost. Do they allow purposeless drug tests?

As I left her office, she called after me, "baby doll, you call me up when you get that ring!"

She was just so sweet, I kind of actually want to.

a jungian field day

Okay folks, this dreaming business is getting out of control.

In the last three nights, I've had three terrible dreams. About three people whom I love dearly who don't just hate me in Dream World, they want me to either be killed violently or to live miserably. Uplifting, right?

I won't name names just because that could get awkward, but so far, this is what I've been up against:

1) The first night, I was being chased and psychologically tortured, and finally, I ended up locking myself in a little room in a basement while Maniac Dream Person was scratching crazily and blood-thirstily at the door so he could get in and kill me. No, tear me to shreds. Then I woke up.

2) The second night, the person just plain hated me. She said horrible things to me, about me, and looked at me with more contempt in her eyes than I've ever seen in real life. The worst part was that in my dream, I was well aware of the fact that we had been dear friends at one point, so it made the sadness (& creepiness) of it all so much more painful. (Maniac Dream Person #2 actually knows that I had this dream, and she is not the least bit evil in real life, nor does she hate me. Although after that dream, I won't say I didn't need a little reassuring.)

3) The third night was another one that didn't want me dead but wanted me very, very unhappy. This one is harder to explain properly without giving away the real-life person, but I'll just say this: this person knew that if she replaced me with a certain other person, it would destroy my world. In too many ways to count. So she did it, and she looked like she actually enjoyed the resulting pain.

Had these dreams all come after I watched Black Swan last night, I might just brush them off as after-shocks from a psychologically-draining (not to mention INSANE) movie. The problem with that is they started before the movie, so now I can't blame them on the movie. The other problem is that I know I can be insecure, but BROTHER, this is just ridiculous. Is my subconscious trying to tell me something? Gracious.

I've decided it's perfectly acceptable...

...if I always have a little procrastination in me. if my best intentions don't always work out as planned. if my sisters always think I'm weird. & lots of other things. :)

I've also decided I spend way too much time thinking about what I haven't done, what I'm not so good at, what I wish I could do better... & not enough time doing the things I love (regardless of whether or not I actually do them well...), trying the things I've always wanted to try, & just generally letting myself be who I am. Welcome to being human, right? I know. I'm certainly not the only one. But still. I'm allowed my turn.


I think that part of what keeps me from actually sticking to a blog or a journal is that I'm a little bit of a chicken. So I'm making a deal with myself. If I want to write, I will. About whatever. If I don't, I just won't. End of story. Obligations lifted. Ha! :)

It's really sort of funny, you know, how much we I sometimes worry about what people might think about how I say something or even what I say. I figure that in the long run I am who I am, even when I do say something that reminds me EXACTLY of my mother. Really, just take it or leave it. It doesn't need to be much more complicated than that. But I'm the one who complicates it. So for the next 60 or so years (I hope), my goal will be to travel as far from that self-inflicted silliness as possible. Ready GO! :D


All of that said, have I ever mentioned that I love snow? I mean, reeeeally love it? We're talking run-outside-and-play-ultimate-frisbee-for-three-hours-in-it, walk-in-piles-of-it-up-to-my-knees, ski-sled-make-snow-angels love it.

aaaaaand before I go for now, I figure I should at least mention grad school since it's been so long since I've been on here that I've never said a word about it. Grad school! It's fantastic & awful all at once. A really great sort of awful. The kind of awful that keeps you up way too late writing almost encyclopedic-sounding papers about pathologies, driving a one-hour commute in two hours to avoid dying in the snow drifts just so you can get to your clinical and work with your client (& finding out that it was totally worth it), reading wordy articles by obnoxious researchers on what turn out to be incredibly fascinating topics. Fantastic and awful. I love it.

watch this (& if you're like me, fawn over the man in the Scrabble shirt...)

 "And so actually our disarticulation . . . ness
is just a clever sort of . . . thing
to disguise the fact that we've become
the most aggressively inarticulate generation
to come along since . . .
you know, a long, long time ago!"

domesticity (& the creepy Albion tale continues rather uncreepily)

I made homemade popcorn this afternoon.

For dinner, I sauteed broccoli, spinach, mushrooms, & tofu.

& I just finished making guacamole. & it's delicious.

I feel so...so...housewifey.


Also, I found out today that the creepy man from last night was actually the boyfriend of the girl who lives across the street. aaaaaahahaha, I bet they were having an un-parent-approved visit & got caught.

That'll teach 'em. :)

(between my domestic activities & my neighborhood creeping, I suddenly feel a little bit like I belong on Wisteria Lane. oh my.)

have I mentioned I love fruit? or, tales of creepy dear old Albion.

So day one went smashingly. It's funny, really, because I ate pretty much like I do any other day (it helps that I'm a vegetarian to begin with, I'm sure). The most difficult part is trying to do this while I live with my family - their cupboards aren't even vegetarian-friendly, let alone vegan-friendly. So I made a much-needed trip to the store & bought soy milk (which I already drink), Edy's fruit bars (best things ever), tofu, & a cucumber. And my mom bought me a grapefruit.

Now for something completely unrelated - my sister was just finishing a project for school tomorrow, & on her way up to bed, she walked by the front window & saw a man standing in front of the house across the street. Just standing there. Creepily. Someone turned the lights on in the house & he took off running... then she said it reminded her of that awful, terrifying movie The Strangers & it freaked me out & now I won't let her leave me down here alone.

How's that for my first full day as a grown up, 23-year-old college graduate?

MoV

I just had my last bowl of normal, fancypants ice cream for a bit. I decided a few weeks ago that I wanted to try the whole vegan thing for a month, just for kicks. I mean I have a few other reasons, too, but mainly, I just wanted a silly little project to kick-start my summer. & my graduated life! So. We shall see how this goes. Basically, I'm addicted to grapefruit & broccoli, anyway, so I'm pretty set, right? haha... YUM. :D ...I'm calling it "the Month of Vegan." I mean, not really, but for this post... I did. Ha.

In other news, I have a Bachelors degree! Well, not physically yet... but it'll come in the mail in a few weeks. Now to find a summer job to keep me busy until grad school...

the real end

Since I walked at graduation last year with my class for part of my degree, I won't be walking again this year. It's sort of strange, really, because last year, I participated in all the festivities without being able enjoy what they represented. This year, there's a lot less festivity in my life & a whole lot more denial that this really is the end of my undergrad career. I'm so excited & so terrified all at once.

I don't know. For now, I suppose I'll just make my festivities the more personal kind - coffee with friends, movie nights with the girls, dinner dates. Who knows when/if I'll ever see some of these people again?

edit: I glanced at this again & realized that it was a lot more sad that I meant for it to be. I blame the lack of sleep :). I'm quite happy, actually, it's just one of those moving on points in life - a very good one, but one I have to see play out before I know what it will be like. I know I'll be in touch with those I'm closest to (but I hate phones, people, so let's be creative... LETTERS!!!) & that I'll meet plenty of new & wonderful people, I just feel a teensy bit misty-eyed when I think about it all. Change is a part of life that I love & long for but that I also try to avoid sometimes. I don't mind. :)

choir tour a la twitter

April 1st:
2:01PM -  On the charter bus. On our waaaaay. Eleven days.
3:43PM - Bradford.
9:04PM - Concert number one: complete.
10:24PM - Hot. Tub.


April 2nd:
8:12AM - Destination: Philadelphia
10:41AM - Bathroom stops make me want to punch women. Seriously, ladies, what takes you so long?
12:05PM - If vegetarians eat vegetables, what do humanitarians eat?
3:47PM - Bah! Philly's a pretty cool place. I'm so coming here to explore someday.
5:57PM - Singing a Good Friday service then a concert at a beautiful church in Philly.
11:27PM - Coloring Easter eggs!

April 3rd:
12:56PM - Manhattan!
1:35PM - Bah! Our hotel is right across the street from Carnegie Hall!
3:20PM - Sigh. I love people.
4:26PM - Cheese, bread, & hummus in Central Park. Yum.
6:28PM - Ruth: "I think I know who Ben Hur is..." - (skeptical glance from me) - Mary: "You've watched it?" - Ruth: "Oh... it's a movie?"
8:45PM - Pad thai! The perfect way to end(ish) a perfect day.
9:37PM - The subway brakes make a minor seventh then a minor second. How very melancholic.
10:04PM - Because watching "The Ten Commandments" the night before Easter in a hotel across the street from Carnegie Hall is what 23 year olds do...
10:40PM - So we decided to mute Charlton Heston & make up our own words. The Old Testament has never been so... confused.

April 4th:
8:41AM - Singing at two Easter services in NYC. Happy Easter!
10:56AM - Church member: "I like your purple robes. They're very Harry Pottery."
11:23AM - I love hearing black men sing.
6:43PM - Concerting in Manhattan. Intermission... so far, they seem to really like us.
7:33PM - Sometimes on stage I can't help but think about how funny it would be if the audience could see how we were dressed UNDER our robes...
7:45PM - In case anyone wanted to know, the women's bathroom on the second floor of Calvary Baptist Church in Manhattan is THE COOLEST BATHROOM ever.
9:12PM - FINALLY leaving Manhattan. Destination: DC. Around midnight. Ah, the concert touring life.
9:35PM - I have my pillow, my slippers, & the whole back seat of the tour bus to myself. SO good.

April 5th:
1:11AM - FINALLY in DC. Waiting for our hotel keys. & BED.
11:06AM - Being a tourist.
1:06PM - Library of Congress. Sigh... it's GORGEOUS.
1:56PM - Air & Space Museum!
3:19PM - Museum of Natural History
3:32PM - Dinosaurs!
4:33PM - Walking barefoot through the grass & eating an apple. One of my favorite things to do. (& in DC!)
4:56PM - Ha. We just did the National Gallery of Art in the final 5 minutes before closing...
6:01PM - Star. Bucks. Starbucks.
8:03PM - I mean, you obviously haven't lived until you've done karaoke at a roadside bar in Maryland.

April 6th:
11:10AM - Choir tour over Easter = mega overdose of sugar. Currently in the form of Cadbury Mini Eggs, so I'm okay with that.
12:35PM - Williamsburg, VA. So warm...
1:41PM - Sitting in a coffee shop in Colonial Williamsburg. Some things can't be helped.
1:48PM - Raspberry Italian soda. Yum.
2:38PM - oh, & earlier, when I said Virginia was warm, what I meant by that was that it's FREAKING HOT.
10:23PM - GREATEST host grandma EVER.

April 7th:
12:57PM - It amazes me how much a little distance can remind me so intensely of just how much I love someone. Not that I forget otherwise. You get it.
8:23PM - Second half of concert, commence. SO. HOT.
9:14PM - Ha. We girls get back to our changing room 2 seconds after a sweaty concert, & a poor MAN comes out of the next room. His face = priceless.

April 8th:
8:35AM - Quiet time on the bus is my favorite thing.
1:12PM - Doing a high school assembly. Ha.
9:18PM - Just finished a joint concert with the Syracuse University Singers. It was fantastic all around.

April 9th:
10:21AM - I'm sick of not being able to pee when I have to...
10:59AM - Diction on the bus. Fun fun fun.
12:44PM - Concert at Crane at SUNY Potsdam.
7:17PM - As I tried to discreetly grab a yummy-looking cupcake, a man said, "You had the eyes of a child on that one. Keep that forever."
10:12PM - Going to bed! Early! (up at 4:45AM...)

April 10th:
5AM - Why. Am. I. Up?
7:29AM - "Guten morgen, mein kinter." "Mein vater, mein vater!"
7:27AM - "So, if you're missing a very small monocle, come see me."
7:41AM - Almost in Canada & phoneless until Sunday afternoon. Concert this afternoon, Bach b minor Mass at the Toronto Symphony tonight.

April 11th:
2:01AM - So one Canadian biker just told me that I was the first New Yorker he's ever met & that I'm cool. Then another told me I had huge boobs. (Terrifying.)
3:52PM - At the border... They're making us ALL get off the bus. Ha.
4:04PM - Haha. Welcome home. :)
4:20PM - In a perfect Russian beet farmer's wife accent: "We altos. We move bus after men leave."
5:59PM - HOUGHTON! Houghton. Hough. Ton.
6:04PM - I just started singing as we rolled onto campus & got the whole choir to end the tour singing. Go me, haha! :)


That about sums it up. Seriously. It was insane & exhausting & wonderful & exhilarating & everything else all at once.
                      
                        

Blackout, or Houghton's First Rave.

Tuesday night, I sang back up for my lovely friend Ruth at a coffeehouse - it was a benefit called "Night for Nets" to raise money to buy mosquito nets & help put an end to malaria. A good cause, & we had a half-hour available to us. We had several really good songs lined up, only 1.5ish of which had I ever heard before. It was exciting, but we've both been incredibly busy lately, so the preparation was minimal. Still, I thought things looked good.

& actually, I'm going to let Ruth tell you the next part of the story via a quote I cut & pasted from her facebook like the creeper that I am, haha:

"The coffeehouse. Well! Let me tell you...we got to the start of our 4th song, theennnnn the ENTIRE campus blacked out! Kinda ironic, considering that the previous song's chorus says "so turn on the light and reveal all the glory" and the last song says "help me see the light...." and the line I sang one second before the power shut down was "for her oppressers are silenced now..." The blackout was even in rhythm with the song, which I thought was pretty cool ;) ... And after the power died we just circled up and finished the songs for our own enjoyment :) ... Plus, with all the lights off on campus, the stars were so clear and gorgeous! It was a great night :)"

That about says it.  All of Houghton, town included, lost power. It was fantastic. After the power went out & we finished the set like she said, we went outside. It was BEAUTIFUL. It's funny, because coming from Rochester to Houghton is an instant doubling of visible stars as it is, so I figured that was it, right? No way. I am such a sheltered little child of the 80s. There. Are. So. Many. Stars. I know, "duh!" But seriously... even when I've been out on the countryside camping at night, I've still been near enough a town or city that there's light pollution. Since all of the town's lights were out & there are only Amish anywhere near us after that, this was the darkest night I've ever experienced. I feel like a silly little child or something going on about stars like this, but really. This was a big deal for me. God is so cool.

So naturally, since nothing too exciting seems to happen in Houghton, everyone came outside and started going nuts. We ducked into the Chamberlain Center for ten minutes or so to warm up a tiny bit (& because I knew Luke would be there somewhere because of his Candlewick dress rehearsal, & I figured I could grab the opportunity to enjoy the stars with him for a few seconds... blah blah blah, sappiness, I know. get over it.). There was an alarm of some sort going off... irritatingly & incessantly. We complained briefly until someone (oh, the anonymity of near-complete darkness is exhilirating, by the way) said: "here's a random thought... this is the first time any of us have ever seen stars through the skylight in here." Naturally, we all looked up.

Then the silliness started, haha. Someone made a creepy voice, so I thought it an appropriate time to start quoting The Shining, and others followed suit. There was a lot of "redrum. REDRUM." happening, then I felt hands on my shoulders (thank you, Ryan) & heard "little pigs, little pigs..." right next to my ear (almost as creepy as Jack Nicholson). The alarm was still going and was still loud & irritating, so we started making tone clusters with it, figuring that sometimes it's just better to embrace the annoying things that we can't control rather than letting them ruin a good thing (incidentally, this is my stance with Lady Gaga...). Then, someone mentioned that it would make a good drone. We attempted a few songs, finally settling on Amazing Grace. Cheesy? Maybe. Timeless & beautiful nonetheless? Absolutely. It started with a circle of about 4 or 5 us, and as we continued, the harmonies grew & people joined us until the atrium was filled with faceless voices of people on the ground floor, on the stairs, and on the second & third floors. It was one of those rare times in life where I am overcome by the moment & completely oblivious to the past & future. I was there & only there, and it was so good.

We eventually headed outside, Ruth & I, laughing at all the craziness we heard around us. There were tons of people walking by cellphone-light (oh, 21st century), but we let our eyes adjust (it's funny, the things you learn at camp... like how your eyes really were designed to adjust to darkness & WHAT?! I can see in the dark??). We walked by a game of frisbee - the product of opportunists & a light-up frisbee - and were temporarily blinded by the headlights of someone who apparently & inexplicably thought it prudent to light up the ENTIRE QUAD with their brights. This was a very false assumption on their part, & they seemed to (thankfully) realize it quickly. Then Ruth: "let's go over to the music building! you know something fun will be going on there." So we did, although the music building had some emergency lights on, so of course all the dedicated (read: those who make me feel like a bad musician) musicians were still practicing. Surprisingly, not much fun was happening there. Until we remembered that the 3rd floor windows opened onto the roof... so we hurried past Dr. Newbrough (who was STILL THERE...?) and climbed out the window. AHHH! Best idea ever. Fireworks even started going off. Honest!

After we let ourselves get pretty frozen on the roof, we went back inside for a few, then headed back outside (it's so hard to stay inside when outside is so dark & beautiful). We headed back toward the campus center, and there was a girl with a megaphone calling everyone to the "party over here!" by her car, which was evidently playing music for the party. Now, if you know Houghton at all, you know that most of us aren't partiers of that sort, really, so you can appreciate the irony. Greg Bish, the CAB advisor (aka, not a student, but an administrator who seized the opportunity to be awesome, as usual), was handing out glow sticks/necklaces. Basically, it was Houghton's first rave.

Soon after, Ruth & I met up with two of my housemates and decided to head back to our apartment for a movie night on Amy's little DVD player ("I think it'll hold a charge for a whole movie..."). On the way back, we randomly noticed that the power was back on - ew, street lamps. Well, sidewalk lamps. We were stuck on the movie night idea, though, so we headed up anyway (did I mention classes were canceled for Wednesday anyway because of Senior Help Day?), and since the power was back, we made popcorn & watched The Proposal on the regular TV. Back to the 21st century.

I heard stories Wednesday about cars driving through the tunnel of the music building & on the quad. I embrace rebellion of the non-life-threatening variety usually, but I think that pushed it a bit... I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, but darkness & crowds of people & big hunks of gas-powered metal on wheels in places where they don't belong is not exactly the recipe for harmless fun. But still. All of that aside, it was such a good night.

Actually, it's too bad CAB hadn't planned the blackout. It would have been the cheapest, most excellent campus event ever. And it didn't even require a chapel announcement or fliers in those little plastic things on the lunch tables. Impromptu blackouts should be incorporated into life in general, I think. I so enjoyed the break from regular life.

breathing.

Has anyone else noticed that stress always come at the most inopportune times? & that's not to say that bad stress isn't always less-than-opportunistic. I just can't figure out the correlation... does the "inopportune time" cause the stress, or does the presence of the stress cause the "inopportune time"? Probably both. Not that I really care. All I know is AAAAAHHHHHH!