Three weeks into my final year as an undergrad. Overwhelmed is an understatement. Classes are small (less than 10 people in all of them), Demand for excellence is high, leadership positions are challenging to the point of no return. Yet, as intense and draining as the past few weeks have been, they have also been some of the most well-rounded weeks of my entire college career.
There is a large black cricket infestation in Waco. Its really, really bad. My courtyard is filled with frogs the size of my palm. The upside? frogs think crickets=yummy. The downer? I now must watch out for homeless creepers AND frogs-its a real battle zone between the car and the front door. Kittens come in trios. I did field research at a Czech folk festival. McDonalds happy meals with American Girl paper dolls do indeed make me quite happy. I now hold a most coveted spot in SING/Pigskin formations: the tip of the triangle. This year, I'll finally apply myself to Russian; if I don't, I will surely drown among the Pushkin poems.
This week was particularly intense. Come Friday night I was tired, hungry, wilted by the immense humidity, and ready to throw in the towel. Though I wanted no more than a quiet night at home, I mustered all my energy and pushed through an extreme sport social event at the student life center. I was pleasantly surprised by the turnout, how fun it was, and how good it felt to hurl dodgeballs across the court towards 20-30 strangers. It was pouring rain as we cleaned up and walked the supplies to a friend's car. Dryness was no longer an option and I noticed the BSB fountains were still running. It is a tradition to run through the science building fountains, and is one I had yet to experience. Tonight, surrounded by some of my closest friends, I experienced another college right of passage.
Run, group hug, laughter. Run, group hug, soaked, water, laughter. more laughter.
And as I stood soaked, laughing uncontrollably with the rain pouring down around us, I felt it. Renewal, refreshment. But most of all, I felt alive.
At that moment, under the cloud of stress and delirium, there was nothing to do but run. Run through the wall of water, and run fast and hard.
Thats the feeling that propells us on. Like white water rapids.
(and among the chaos of the here, the now, the future, the suggestive song of a ceiling fan plays on.)
Friday, September 11, 2009
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Waxing (& Washing) Philosophical
The next 45 minutes are extremely precious. That is the amount of time I have left before I am kicked off the at&t Starbucks internet connection.
I've been neglecting my blog lately.
My mind has been everywhere- the good, the bad, the freaking out, the empowered, that I'm not sure I could even begin to capture my thoughts. So I won't. Instead, I'll wax philosophical for a moment on carwashes and why they are so perfect.
Carwashes. 8 minutes of renewal. the smell of soap. the cleansing of dirt away. the ability to use them wherever, whenever. The feeling of driving in, knowing you have nothing to do for the next few minutes except for watching the patterns on the windshield and anticipate the powerful blast of air when the time comes.
A carwash is a tabula rasa.
Simply put, a carwash has the ability to refresh you. to make you feel as if, when you drive out the other end, the world is a better place. brighter. cleaner. full of greater possibilities. regardless of where your head and heart were when pulling in, its as if the soapy suds wash away all the apprehension.
if you're not buying it, we can agree to disagree.
but gahh, you haven't lived until you've experienced a carwash at its finest. and at its finest, it not only cleans the outside of the car, but the precious cargo inside as well.
lets just say, I've been going through a lot of carwashes lately.
law school. grad school. director of a cruise ship. can I really do it all?
affirmative.
My summer has shifted focus. This has become the most interesting, unexpected, introspective, rewarding summers I have ever experienced. Its frightening. and boring. and at the same time, exhilerating to have so much time to simply listen to myself, my thoughts, to take the time to assess and analyze the outcomes of my future decisions. God really knows what he's doing. He knew exactly what I needed out of this summer long before I did. but thats usually how it goes.
I've been working for about a month doing camp photos. I've also started my own collection of what I like to call "creepy kids of summer." bahaha. my roommates have no idea what's hitting them come fall. creepy kids of summer collage? I think yes. (sorry Jessie....some of the pictures are really abstract and cool, and some are downright weird and creepy :) ohh the faces kids make in photos. you can see an entire world of emotion in these photos.
I've also begun a poptab collecting campaign. Its going well, seeing as how my workplace is the poptab meca.
ok, 30 minutes of precious wifi. Thats all you get, blogworld.
until the next wifi session-
I've been neglecting my blog lately.
My mind has been everywhere- the good, the bad, the freaking out, the empowered, that I'm not sure I could even begin to capture my thoughts. So I won't. Instead, I'll wax philosophical for a moment on carwashes and why they are so perfect.
Carwashes. 8 minutes of renewal. the smell of soap. the cleansing of dirt away. the ability to use them wherever, whenever. The feeling of driving in, knowing you have nothing to do for the next few minutes except for watching the patterns on the windshield and anticipate the powerful blast of air when the time comes.
A carwash is a tabula rasa.
Simply put, a carwash has the ability to refresh you. to make you feel as if, when you drive out the other end, the world is a better place. brighter. cleaner. full of greater possibilities. regardless of where your head and heart were when pulling in, its as if the soapy suds wash away all the apprehension.
if you're not buying it, we can agree to disagree.
but gahh, you haven't lived until you've experienced a carwash at its finest. and at its finest, it not only cleans the outside of the car, but the precious cargo inside as well.
lets just say, I've been going through a lot of carwashes lately.
law school. grad school. director of a cruise ship. can I really do it all?
affirmative.
My summer has shifted focus. This has become the most interesting, unexpected, introspective, rewarding summers I have ever experienced. Its frightening. and boring. and at the same time, exhilerating to have so much time to simply listen to myself, my thoughts, to take the time to assess and analyze the outcomes of my future decisions. God really knows what he's doing. He knew exactly what I needed out of this summer long before I did. but thats usually how it goes.
I've been working for about a month doing camp photos. I've also started my own collection of what I like to call "creepy kids of summer." bahaha. my roommates have no idea what's hitting them come fall. creepy kids of summer collage? I think yes. (sorry Jessie....some of the pictures are really abstract and cool, and some are downright weird and creepy :) ohh the faces kids make in photos. you can see an entire world of emotion in these photos.
I've also begun a poptab collecting campaign. Its going well, seeing as how my workplace is the poptab meca.
ok, 30 minutes of precious wifi. Thats all you get, blogworld.
until the next wifi session-
Friday, June 5, 2009
The Trees Are All A'Twitter
I live in a perpetual campground. This is what I've coined our Flagstaff residence. The windows are big, bright, and open. The living room has a fireplace, four outrageously comfy leather chairs, two large open windows, and comes to a point at the ceiling, like a mini A-frame within the house. We lovingly refer to it as the tent. Here we sit, night after night, listening to the sounds of the forest-birds, dogs, buzzing of bugs-and experience a perpetual campground moment. The cool night air coupled with the fireplace and comfy chairs is enough to quickly draw you in and cause immediate relaxation.
When you're camping in the Arizona forests, there is another noise that is distinctly recognizable. This is the sound of the trees. Now, you may wonder, what? Trees don't make sounds. Cats, they meow. Horses, they neigh. People, they talk. Trees, they stand there and look pretty (except for those all brown suffering from bark beetles...a metaphor for another day). While trees may not have mouths and voices, their tale is ever clear. Trees are catalysts, used by the wind to spin a story. Today, the story is loud and full of mischief. Whoosh! goes the wind, taking no prisoners as it flies through the needles of the pines. Throughout the house a story is being constructed. No, more than a story. The way the wind is blowing, a full on opera is being composed outside these walls.
I wonder what they're saying? The operatic movement has been consistent since sunrise. Sometimes it sounds angry, violent. Others, like right now, it merely strings sentences together, content to sway the day away. You know there are birds out there holding on for dear life. Their songs sound a bit more stressed than usual, concentrating on their nests within the trees, not wanting to start over due to the wind's potential destruction. Its ok, little birds. You are supposed to be high flying, blown from here to there. You like the wind. It does the work for you. You open your wings and soar with the current.
Wouldn't it be great if we all trusted the wind like the birds? Some do, letting it take them to new heights. Others don't, preferring to make their nests on the ground, rather than run the risk of re-building after a blustery day.
Ok, the wind has suddenly dramatically died down and took the conclusion to my metaphor with it. I don't know what I was trying to conclude, so I won't even try.
This is the first blog post I've written in the daylight, I think. My night owl ways are rapidly falling by the wayside this summer. I shouldn't be writing. I should be LSATing. 3 days left. I'm just so tired of thinking about it and stressing over it. I experienced a mini panic attack this week while studying at Barnes and Noble. And to make it worse, a lady came up, sat down next to me, and said rude things just out of the blue. Really? If you don't have anything nice to say, maybe you shouldn't bring your dog in a public business and be rude to those around you. I've stopped studying there, for the most part. I'm to the point where I'm doing full practice tests everyday and I have those here at home. I don't need the strategies as much, and frankly, I'm tired of watching camo gaming guy and jerk reading guy and listening to their gossip about Orthodox Priest man's loud cell-phone voice or NAU girl's use of 2 tables. Deconstructive talk just for the sake of talking is just lame.
I hope the trees are being constructive. Thats what I chose to believe.
Although I was mad and frustrated at LSAT and mean lame men the other day, as I got up to stretch, the guy who's always behind the counter in the cafe asked me how the studying was going. I replied not well, to which he looked genuinely concerned and sympathetic. He then asked me how may days until I took the LSAT (which means he's been watching my studying habits and isn't as weirded out by my daily diet pepsis as I thought he was) and when I replied 5, he gave me a nice smile and said, "when the test day comes, it will all be there. And it'll be worth it." then he handed me my diet pepsi as well as a glimmer of hope for the Barnes and Noble crowd, after all.
Often, you're not aware of what those around you notice. Ever more often, one word or phrase has enough potential to give you renewed life and vigor. Like the wind, which is in full force yet again, you just have to allow yourself to be blown along, and let the whirl create a force around you.
In other news, I now kill spiders and wasps, too.
When you're camping in the Arizona forests, there is another noise that is distinctly recognizable. This is the sound of the trees. Now, you may wonder, what? Trees don't make sounds. Cats, they meow. Horses, they neigh. People, they talk. Trees, they stand there and look pretty (except for those all brown suffering from bark beetles...a metaphor for another day). While trees may not have mouths and voices, their tale is ever clear. Trees are catalysts, used by the wind to spin a story. Today, the story is loud and full of mischief. Whoosh! goes the wind, taking no prisoners as it flies through the needles of the pines. Throughout the house a story is being constructed. No, more than a story. The way the wind is blowing, a full on opera is being composed outside these walls.
I wonder what they're saying? The operatic movement has been consistent since sunrise. Sometimes it sounds angry, violent. Others, like right now, it merely strings sentences together, content to sway the day away. You know there are birds out there holding on for dear life. Their songs sound a bit more stressed than usual, concentrating on their nests within the trees, not wanting to start over due to the wind's potential destruction. Its ok, little birds. You are supposed to be high flying, blown from here to there. You like the wind. It does the work for you. You open your wings and soar with the current.
Wouldn't it be great if we all trusted the wind like the birds? Some do, letting it take them to new heights. Others don't, preferring to make their nests on the ground, rather than run the risk of re-building after a blustery day.
Ok, the wind has suddenly dramatically died down and took the conclusion to my metaphor with it. I don't know what I was trying to conclude, so I won't even try.
This is the first blog post I've written in the daylight, I think. My night owl ways are rapidly falling by the wayside this summer. I shouldn't be writing. I should be LSATing. 3 days left. I'm just so tired of thinking about it and stressing over it. I experienced a mini panic attack this week while studying at Barnes and Noble. And to make it worse, a lady came up, sat down next to me, and said rude things just out of the blue. Really? If you don't have anything nice to say, maybe you shouldn't bring your dog in a public business and be rude to those around you. I've stopped studying there, for the most part. I'm to the point where I'm doing full practice tests everyday and I have those here at home. I don't need the strategies as much, and frankly, I'm tired of watching camo gaming guy and jerk reading guy and listening to their gossip about Orthodox Priest man's loud cell-phone voice or NAU girl's use of 2 tables. Deconstructive talk just for the sake of talking is just lame.
I hope the trees are being constructive. Thats what I chose to believe.
Although I was mad and frustrated at LSAT and mean lame men the other day, as I got up to stretch, the guy who's always behind the counter in the cafe asked me how the studying was going. I replied not well, to which he looked genuinely concerned and sympathetic. He then asked me how may days until I took the LSAT (which means he's been watching my studying habits and isn't as weirded out by my daily diet pepsis as I thought he was) and when I replied 5, he gave me a nice smile and said, "when the test day comes, it will all be there. And it'll be worth it." then he handed me my diet pepsi as well as a glimmer of hope for the Barnes and Noble crowd, after all.
Often, you're not aware of what those around you notice. Ever more often, one word or phrase has enough potential to give you renewed life and vigor. Like the wind, which is in full force yet again, you just have to allow yourself to be blown along, and let the whirl create a force around you.
In other news, I now kill spiders and wasps, too.
Friday, May 29, 2009
The Art of Murdering Moths
The thing is, I don't want to murder the moths. I know they aren't harmful. I know they're caterpillars who turn into moths. I know they have a tendency to love the light while simultaneously loving the dark. The also seem to love watching me sleep. This is the reason they have to go. Regardless of how careful I am with keeping the door closed and trying to ensure they won't enter the room, like many things in life, this luxury is nowhere near guaranteed. Moths represent summer. The cool air, the crickets chirping, the breeze through the open windows and the pine trees outside. They appear and disappear just as quickly. Stealthy and discreet, I'm rapidly learning that trusting a moth's position is a fatal move.
i awake bright and early every morning to the sound of construction out my open window and to the bright morning light. bang bang bang goes the hammer, its time to awaken and greet the summer light! I drive out of my neighborhood and into town, marveling at the majestic peak straight ahead. With all the rain and weather, it looks different in different forms of light. My shower has some of the best water pressure I've ever experienced. Flagstaff Barnes and Noble is my daily destination. I order a venti diet pepsi every day around 3:00 in the afternoon. The locals and I are becoming quite acquaintances.
Here's the thing with them: I spent a good few days while pouring over my LSAT books and learning strategy, discovering that the trout comes before the bass in the supermarket fish sale, while also keeping an open ear towards the conversations around two local men that sit in the same spots, reading and playing on their computers day after day. I'm convinced one hasn't worn anything but the same outfit I saw first saw him in. He's middle aged, black shirt on black jeans, and often a camo jacket if the rain decides to hang out with us. The first day I saw him he was engrossed, and I mean totally engrossed, in his computer, typing furiously. Since I've seen writers at the Flagstaff bookstore before, I immediately thought he was in the creative process and I was inspired, felt a pang to begin writing for fun like I used to love. I even started a story and pledged to myself that I'd write short stories this summer, just because I want to.
After listening to conversations and context clues and employing my ability to eavesdrop on public conversations, I discovered black shirt camo man was in fact not writing a novel. He was instead playing games. Computerized chess, all.day.long. every.day. To take the matter further, when I told my parents this, my Dad informed me he knows exactly who I'm talking about and has seen him at B&N doing the same thing for the past.8.years. throughout his travels through Flag and in his stops and needs for coffee before heading down the mountain.
gaming? all day everyday? I was so disappointed. still am, actually. I wasted valuable time and energy and listening resources, so curious about these characters who come and do the same routine, day after day. While I've become a part of the crowd, with my LSAT books and diet pepsi, I know its temporary. Come June 8 I'll be done. I'll be working, I'll be in summer phase 2. Looks are deceiving. Apparently you can't judge a book, or a camo jacket, but its cover. And if you do, you better beware. You may just end up rather not knowing.
We ate Sunday lunch in Winslow Arizona last week. It was delightful. Standin on a corner in Winslow Arizona. such a fine sight to see.
Fun fact: the original song was set in Flagstaff. Standin on a corner in Flagstaff Arizona. such a fine sight to see. Its a girl, my Lord, in a flatbed Ford, slowin' down to take a look at me.
There is a plaque. and a flatbed ford on the street of ol' sleepy Winslow AZ. this makes me immensely happy.
what I've learned from LSATing:
-arguments can always be weakened, regardless of how strong you may think it is
-bubble sheets are evil
-in logic games, G H F R Y T U I S all have a place, just not necessarily where you might think they'd go
-writing sample, schmiting sample.
and so it continues. less than 2 weeks. bring it. bring it.
the computer battery is about to die.
summer indulgence: venti diet pepsis and watching the Bachelorette on abc.com with Mom.
fall asleep to the crickets. wake up with the sun. make friends with the moths.
i awake bright and early every morning to the sound of construction out my open window and to the bright morning light. bang bang bang goes the hammer, its time to awaken and greet the summer light! I drive out of my neighborhood and into town, marveling at the majestic peak straight ahead. With all the rain and weather, it looks different in different forms of light. My shower has some of the best water pressure I've ever experienced. Flagstaff Barnes and Noble is my daily destination. I order a venti diet pepsi every day around 3:00 in the afternoon. The locals and I are becoming quite acquaintances.
Here's the thing with them: I spent a good few days while pouring over my LSAT books and learning strategy, discovering that the trout comes before the bass in the supermarket fish sale, while also keeping an open ear towards the conversations around two local men that sit in the same spots, reading and playing on their computers day after day. I'm convinced one hasn't worn anything but the same outfit I saw first saw him in. He's middle aged, black shirt on black jeans, and often a camo jacket if the rain decides to hang out with us. The first day I saw him he was engrossed, and I mean totally engrossed, in his computer, typing furiously. Since I've seen writers at the Flagstaff bookstore before, I immediately thought he was in the creative process and I was inspired, felt a pang to begin writing for fun like I used to love. I even started a story and pledged to myself that I'd write short stories this summer, just because I want to.
After listening to conversations and context clues and employing my ability to eavesdrop on public conversations, I discovered black shirt camo man was in fact not writing a novel. He was instead playing games. Computerized chess, all.day.long. every.day. To take the matter further, when I told my parents this, my Dad informed me he knows exactly who I'm talking about and has seen him at B&N doing the same thing for the past.8.years. throughout his travels through Flag and in his stops and needs for coffee before heading down the mountain.
gaming? all day everyday? I was so disappointed. still am, actually. I wasted valuable time and energy and listening resources, so curious about these characters who come and do the same routine, day after day. While I've become a part of the crowd, with my LSAT books and diet pepsi, I know its temporary. Come June 8 I'll be done. I'll be working, I'll be in summer phase 2. Looks are deceiving. Apparently you can't judge a book, or a camo jacket, but its cover. And if you do, you better beware. You may just end up rather not knowing.
We ate Sunday lunch in Winslow Arizona last week. It was delightful. Standin on a corner in Winslow Arizona. such a fine sight to see.
Fun fact: the original song was set in Flagstaff. Standin on a corner in Flagstaff Arizona. such a fine sight to see. Its a girl, my Lord, in a flatbed Ford, slowin' down to take a look at me.
There is a plaque. and a flatbed ford on the street of ol' sleepy Winslow AZ. this makes me immensely happy.
what I've learned from LSATing:
-arguments can always be weakened, regardless of how strong you may think it is
-bubble sheets are evil
-in logic games, G H F R Y T U I S all have a place, just not necessarily where you might think they'd go
-writing sample, schmiting sample.
and so it continues. less than 2 weeks. bring it. bring it.
the computer battery is about to die.
summer indulgence: venti diet pepsis and watching the Bachelorette on abc.com with Mom.
fall asleep to the crickets. wake up with the sun. make friends with the moths.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Channeling Charrie
I realize only Reagan will understand the title to this post. And thats ok. Everyone needs cryptic phrases every once in a while.
ahh finals. a time when the world seems so lonely yet so full of commradery. You don't see the same people on an everyday basis, but you know somewhere, they are suffering through studying just like you are. Or, if they're procrastinating, the same guilty thoughts run through their minds as well.
You know what else is cryptic? the language people put in emails. Just when you think you've known someone long enough to determine their official email tone of voice, they revolt against the norm and send surprisingly friendly notes that throw you off your game.
sad I'm missing Mother's Day by 2 days.
am starting to freak out about the LSAT. June 8, baby.
[shoutout to Reagan and Laura and our appreciation for jake fiscom, rumpled journalist and coffee shirt-casual musical barrista]
moving on.
I will have a new best friend by the end of the summer. His name is Flagstaff Public Library, (FPL, if you will.) FPL will provide me with trips abroad and formulaic boy-gets-girl storylines. Come August, I will be so adept in them I will probably be fit to write one myself. ha.
I also need to start thinking seriously about my trip to Ukraine. This is an extremely awesome component of my summer and I want it to rock me.
Conquering fears and re-discovering avenues once lost seems to be constant theme for me. Turns out, the Phantom really just wants Christine to love him. If only 10 year old Brooke had just developed an early appreciation for unrequited love, it would've saved many frightening moments with the Phantom, "inside my mind."
I'm more cynical than I once was. Much, much more so. The idea of a beautiful sad love story where the two don't end up together has currently has more appeal than the typical formula. boy meets girl. series of cute encounters follow. a big misunderstanding. time of sad reflection. one makes the big gesture. together forever. blah. blah. But that has its place. Just not at the top of my favorites. No, it seems the scardicat has begun to see the real world. And you know what the biggest surprise is? Its not as bad as she once thought.
This post is cryptic. I know. And thats the point. Bear with me. The next one will be more streamlined, hopefully. Or maybe not.
Finals studying essentials: [apparently lofty and cryptic thoughts about nothing in particular to balance the intense amount of real information in my head]
-printed notes with computer charts
-DIET COKE.
-friends to look up and stare at every once in a while, to be reassured that other people still exist around you
-late night movies as rewards.
-mindless room cleaning.
-stressing.
-DIET COKE.
Yesterday, I had a paper due at 11:55 pm. (who makes a research paper due at 11:55 on Saturday, the first day of dead days? So strange). I researched like mad most of the night before and the morning of. Began to write at 3ish. Called Mom around 6ish to see if thesis and intro was clear. It wasn't. Had a lovely dinner at Laura's that she cooked while I frantically wrote. Mom called again at 11:15 asking if the paper was done. "No, I'm finishing the conclusion and have to do the bibliography. Its only 11:15. Plently of time." to which she responded: "You are your father's daughter..." I finished with 11 minutes to spare. Her words keep running through my head because I like the sound of their meaning. I am my father's daughter. And you know what? thats not a half bad thing to be. Not at all.
ahh finals. a time when the world seems so lonely yet so full of commradery. You don't see the same people on an everyday basis, but you know somewhere, they are suffering through studying just like you are. Or, if they're procrastinating, the same guilty thoughts run through their minds as well.
You know what else is cryptic? the language people put in emails. Just when you think you've known someone long enough to determine their official email tone of voice, they revolt against the norm and send surprisingly friendly notes that throw you off your game.
sad I'm missing Mother's Day by 2 days.
am starting to freak out about the LSAT. June 8, baby.
[shoutout to Reagan and Laura and our appreciation for jake fiscom, rumpled journalist and coffee shirt-casual musical barrista]
moving on.
I will have a new best friend by the end of the summer. His name is Flagstaff Public Library, (FPL, if you will.) FPL will provide me with trips abroad and formulaic boy-gets-girl storylines. Come August, I will be so adept in them I will probably be fit to write one myself. ha.
I also need to start thinking seriously about my trip to Ukraine. This is an extremely awesome component of my summer and I want it to rock me.
Conquering fears and re-discovering avenues once lost seems to be constant theme for me. Turns out, the Phantom really just wants Christine to love him. If only 10 year old Brooke had just developed an early appreciation for unrequited love, it would've saved many frightening moments with the Phantom, "inside my mind."
I'm more cynical than I once was. Much, much more so. The idea of a beautiful sad love story where the two don't end up together has currently has more appeal than the typical formula. boy meets girl. series of cute encounters follow. a big misunderstanding. time of sad reflection. one makes the big gesture. together forever. blah. blah. But that has its place. Just not at the top of my favorites. No, it seems the scardicat has begun to see the real world. And you know what the biggest surprise is? Its not as bad as she once thought.
This post is cryptic. I know. And thats the point. Bear with me. The next one will be more streamlined, hopefully. Or maybe not.
Finals studying essentials: [apparently lofty and cryptic thoughts about nothing in particular to balance the intense amount of real information in my head]
-printed notes with computer charts
-DIET COKE.
-friends to look up and stare at every once in a while, to be reassured that other people still exist around you
-late night movies as rewards.
-mindless room cleaning.
-stressing.
-DIET COKE.
Yesterday, I had a paper due at 11:55 pm. (who makes a research paper due at 11:55 on Saturday, the first day of dead days? So strange). I researched like mad most of the night before and the morning of. Began to write at 3ish. Called Mom around 6ish to see if thesis and intro was clear. It wasn't. Had a lovely dinner at Laura's that she cooked while I frantically wrote. Mom called again at 11:15 asking if the paper was done. "No, I'm finishing the conclusion and have to do the bibliography. Its only 11:15. Plently of time." to which she responded: "You are your father's daughter..." I finished with 11 minutes to spare. Her words keep running through my head because I like the sound of their meaning. I am my father's daughter. And you know what? thats not a half bad thing to be. Not at all.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Rules Breaking Discouraged
NYC. You know you've done NYC right when you return home and sleep 20 hours before doing anything else. I fully enjoyed my time in the Big Apple, successfully balancing MUN committee obligations with plain ol' crazy fun. Case in point, here is a picture of our team rocking out to either 'Bohemian Rhapsody' or 'Livin' on a Prayer' in this awesome karaoke place in Little Korea. yes, I sang karaoke in Little Korea. Then I took the subway at 3:00 am. Not cool, as there were lots of those poisonous rats the signs warn of. Its an epic night now, and I'm glad I had a chance to experience NYC the way it should be experienced.
The National MUN conference is different than most. Instead of having 2 Chairs per committee as part of the secretariat staff, NMUN has a Director and Assistant Director who serve directly on staff, and on the first night they choose someone from the committee to serve as the Chair and essentially become part of the staff for a week. Having had some Chair and secretariat experience, on a whim I decided to go through the interview process. This was partly a strategy, as the Director was ignoring my partner and I, and I knew sitting down face to face would help me stand out from the crowd of 299 other people. I was really direct and honest in my interview, and was preoccupied, thinking my team had left for our traditional karaoke without me. The interview finished around midnight and I saw a text that the team was just then leaving so I ran out of the intervew telling them to simply call me if I was chosen. Sure enough, somewhere in between Queen and Spice Girls I got a call saying I was to be the Chair of the General Assembly 3rd Committee. This is a huge honor, and the whole week I was transformed from delegate to staff. I got to meet a lot of the people running the conference and had an inside look as to how the thing is run, the awards process, and what makes a delegation stand out. I also gained great leadership skills. The best part, however, was being in committee in the actual UN building. For those of you not familiar with UN preceedings, the General Assembly Plenary is the offical GA body, though there are six subcommittees under the GA. These 6 committees pass resolutions and then report to Plenary for it to also officially adopt all resolutions. The final day of conference all the committees met in the UN building for a special Plenary session. Being the Chair of the 3rd committee, I had the opportunity to be the chair and facilitate the voting proceedings for a while. I spoke in the actual microphone, sat at the actual dias that the President of the actual GA sits at. It was way cool. The second picture is of me and my fellow dias in action.
With 2 chairs and 4 individual best delegate committee awards, Baylor's MUN came out on top. We won the highest possible award, which was that of "Outstanding Delegation." This is a huge relief, and it makes me even more excited for next year and my potential leadership within the organization.
I spent all day in the UN building on Thursday. The best part is all the signs posted everywhere, "Smoking Discouraged." Of course the UN wouldn't outright prohibit anything...I don't think anything else better illustrates the ironies and problems with the UN system than these signs...
I also got to eat in the Delegate cafeteria (almost illegally) and had the opportunity to meet an ACTUAL UGANDAN REPRESENTATIVE (!!!!!!!). He was so great to take 30 minutes out of his day to speak with some of us. The first thing he said was that we were so young. When we told him most were seniors or juniors, he was flabergasted, as higher education in Uganda is a priviledge not necessarily achieved at such a young age. Listening to him talk really put my own opportunities into perspective. I just spent the week gallavanting all over NYC. I had the chance to Chair in the UN building. I drank mojitos in a Cuban restaurant, had filet minon and crab at this upscale seafood restaurant, walked around Time Square well after midnight, drank frozen mochachino at the famous Serendipity dessert place, and frolicked around Central Park for a whole day, enjoying the beautiful weather and scenery. This fun, coupled with the added responsibilities of being Chair and part of the staff, gave me such a feeling of empowerment. Listening to the Ugandan Delegate, however, I realized that while these opportunities are outstanding and so worthwhile, they really are just the start. I'm young. so so young. It makes me wonder: If this is what I'm doing at age 20 (almost 21), what will I be doing at age 30? 40?
I realized something else this week. Sometimes, its fun to break the rules. Not in a detrimental way, but in a way that makes you feel alive. Maybe there is something to that UN sign of only discouraging rather than prohibiting bad habits.
On another note, Raleigh surprised me and drove through town today. It was especially nice to see him and I greatly appreciated the time he spent here in Waco with me. I've been sleeping and vegging and recovering from my crazy hectic week. It was really nice to see him, especially to see family on Easter.
I'm looking forward to summer. One month away. I have this vision of playing the piano in that great front room with the patio doors open, letting the sound waft out and down the pine tree street in the evenings and to spend serious time researching grad schools and such. I'm very glad Petey (the Petrof piano) was moved to Flagstaff this weekend.
Not sure what I'm going to do with my car George over the summer. hmmm.
Happy Easter. If nothing else, this week reaffirmed that today (and everyday) I am blessed by God's glory. He is good. so soo good.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Scouts Honor
Today I (almost) single-handedly conviced 6 6th grade girl scouts to come to Baylor. The campus wasn't giving official tours today due to an on campus marathon event, and a nice troop of Dallas girl scouts were having an exciting excursion to Waco's must see venues, such as the Dr. Pepper museum and Baylor University. The leader of the troop is an ADPi alumnae from Baylor, and called our chapter advisor to see if any current members would be willing to give a tour. Since Laura and I work in the admissions department and are now walking Baylor fact spouters, we decided to go ahead and give the tour. It was a beautiful slightly chilly day and let me tell you, by the end of our amazing tour, those girls were like, 'I can't wait until I'm a bear!" We had them stand on the seal in Founder's Mall and listen to their echos, they walked through the practice rooms, the science fountain, the SLC swimming pool, the library garden. My favorite moment of the tour was in the BSB in front of Java City when one girl asked me: "Do you have to like coffee to come to Baylor?" erm, no. But she'll soon find out it makes hangouts, study groups, and dates a whole lot easier if you're down with the Common Grounds. It was very refreshing to walk around campus for the sake of walking around campus on such a beautiful day. As I described the different buildings to the girl scouts I had flashes of various memories made in the same buildings. It made me realize my time here at Baylor has been quite extensive, action packed, and looking at those buildings, I realized I'm leaving a solid footprint on Baylor's paths.
This past week was long and hard. It rained a lot as well, and since George (my car) has a nice wide hole in the soft top (due to a vandalism incident a while back) I left him in the parking garage for the majority of the week. My kind roommate was nice enough to drive a crazed me to work on Wednesday, during the heaviest downpour (thanks again, Jessie!). This next week is also going to be intense. I leave for New York City next Saturday. I have a lot to accomplish until then- I must get homework done ahead of time for the week I'm gone, I need to finish researching my topics extensively, and plan outfits/pack for the trip. These things are all doable. Along with getting to be in NYC for an international Model UN conference, I'm also way looking forward to visiting the MOMA and MET and hopefully finding some good knock off deals on the sketchy streets of Chinatown.
I've been pondering the verses of Matthew 4 all week long.
The spring weather makes me think of sailboats.
This past week was long and hard. It rained a lot as well, and since George (my car) has a nice wide hole in the soft top (due to a vandalism incident a while back) I left him in the parking garage for the majority of the week. My kind roommate was nice enough to drive a crazed me to work on Wednesday, during the heaviest downpour (thanks again, Jessie!). This next week is also going to be intense. I leave for New York City next Saturday. I have a lot to accomplish until then- I must get homework done ahead of time for the week I'm gone, I need to finish researching my topics extensively, and plan outfits/pack for the trip. These things are all doable. Along with getting to be in NYC for an international Model UN conference, I'm also way looking forward to visiting the MOMA and MET and hopefully finding some good knock off deals on the sketchy streets of Chinatown.
I've been pondering the verses of Matthew 4 all week long.
The spring weather makes me think of sailboats.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Crayonberries
A random facts '25 things about me' craze has engulfed Facebook. Now, I'm very stubborn and tend to go against the grain on these matters, but I also am not sure I have 25 things about me that are deemed cool enough for the facebook crowd. I keep thinking of random facts and wondering, 'would I tell the world that fact?' Its interesting really. It takes a lot of courage to publish all those thoughts about yourself and trust mere acquaintances to read them.
My not so 25 things about me:
-I read the first half of a book. then I read the ending. then I go back and fill in the rest. please don't scoff at this.
-I had a slight breakdown about my future prospects today. I've had quite a few rejection letters lately (internships, scholarships, etc...)
-I really hope this trend doesn't continue into law school admissions letters.
-this is why I'm devoting my summer to LSAT, Ukraine, learning Russian for real,and community service- all for the sake of enjoyment.
-I like blackberries. The poignant burst of bittersweet is more than a bitesized fruit should be allowed to have. There is a certain simple joy in eating blackberries.
-I name most inanimate objects. They are all boys.
-I spent most of the semester being a blue crayon. For those of you not familiar with Baylor's All University SING, I'd be honored if you checked it out here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s_wcG1Mlsmg
Cranberry Orange tea is the phantom tea of goodness. Or was the phantom tea. After months of searching for the best tea I've ever tasted (after discovering it in Oxford), I found it in an organic foods store in Flagstaff. The funny thing? I finally find the perfect tea right as summer rapidly approaches and optimal tea drinking time is on its way out. Why not enhance the heat by drinking hot tea? I say go ahead and drink. see what happens. Crayonberry tea, to be exact.
My last visit here left me nostalgic for European trains in Waco, serving free diet coke and biscuits. It also left me nostalgic for the summer that had just passed, the beauty of the British Isles, and the attitude of empowerment I secured while in Oxford. That feeling made it across the Atlantic and I've been carrying it around with me for most of the year, though I'm currently having some difficulties remembering where I misplaced it. The summer months are again fastly approaching, and though the calendar doesn't have a month marked out for study abroad (oh how I wish it would) it is nevertheless full of refreshment and great potential.
Why have I returned to this online portal? A few weeks ago a guest speaker visited my international law class. He is a young man, mid 20s, and has heavily been involved in high profile NGOs such as Invisible Children and Tom's shoes. After traveling throughout war torn Congo he created his own non profit, known as Falling Whistles. He was extremely engaging, extremely challenging, and managed to explain the conflict in Congo in such a helpful way as countless articles never have before. He also berrated my generation for being careless. Where is the passion? Where are the online blogs? Where are the questions? HOW are we letting such human rights abuses happen without any sign of uproar? Where, WHERE are the protests? I left class conviced, a little shocked, and passionate. After a brief stint with 30 degree meetings at the local hippie/chic coffeeshop for Baylor's own Falling Whistles chapter, I ackowledged the grassroots life isn't for me.
But, the idea of returning to this blog stuck around. So here I am again.
Ultimately, I've decided its time to once again be passionate out loud. With any luck my quest will have an outcome similar to that of the cranberry orange tea.
Or, I could always become a blackberry harvester. mmmhhmmmm.
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