But it doesn't mean you ain't been on my mind.

Well, this is shameful. I was so sure that I was going to be good at blogging this time.... sorry about that. ahem. So... fall break is over, haha. Actually it was over long ago, and Thanksgiving break just ended today. As I mentioned awhile back, I spent the break in Cincinnati with my friend Esther and her family. I also got to see my extended family, who ALSO lives in Cincinnati! It was a fantastic break. I'm not really ready to start school again tomorrow morning, but I must say, when we got off the highway tonight and started nearing the college, I got this warm fuzzy sense of familiarity. I was even a little happy to see my building. But mostly I'm happy because Christmas break is 25 DAYS AWAY. That, above all, brings me joy.

I'm sorry to keep doing this, because I think it's sort of a cop-out, but I'm going to copy and paste a letter that I wrote my parents last night instead of writing a blog post. It's 10:08, but in Cincinnati time it's 11:08, and I'm tired from sitting in the car and doing nothing all day. So. Here goes. And I'll try to be better about posting in the future...

Good evening, my lovely family!
(Ma, would you mind forwarding this to all concerned? I don't think I have the proper updated email addresses...)

It's near midnight here in Cincinnati, but I wanted to write you all an update before I return to the busy land of Wheaton tomorrow afternoon/evening. It's currently 25 degrees here, which means that it's finally colder in Ohio than in Illinois. Throughout the week I've been comparing temperatures between the two (namely between Cincinnati and Chicago) and I believe that this is a first. Mostly I just wanted to mention it so that you will all shudder and think of your brave little soldier, and be very grateful (as she is) that she has found a properly silly-looking warm winter coat. And for only $75! I was prepared to pay nearly 200 for one because I thought that was going to be the best I could do. But as Aunt Betsy said, somebody else was shopping with me today. (cue: upward pointing.)

Which brings me to my point. Today was a wonderful day. I think that because school has forced me to "go with the flow"/be flexible/expect the unexpected so much, I've stopped thinking ahead to how I'll feel when a future event will take place. Usually the future is just too abstract and uncertain to even think about. In any case, I wasn't expecting to feel as overjoyed as I did when I opened the Cunningham's door and saw Aunt Betsy on the doorstep. She wrapped me up in a big hug and that encompassing feeling of love didn't let up once throughout the day. Because there was only so much room in their car, our numbers were limited to five for most of the day: Aunt Betsy, Chris, Kiera, Beau and I ate lunch at Olive Garden before facing the cold and crowds of the outlet mall. We shopped around there for quite awhile. I found my coat at our second stop, and we shopped for the others the rest of the time. Aunt Betsy needed some 'items' from Maidenform (and Hanes, when the afore-mentioned failed) and walking around those stores with Beau was quite possibly my favorite part of the day. I found him at one point, standing before a rack of bras, pushing one cup in at a time with his pointer finger and saying, "Push in, push in. Push out, push out." So I brought him over to the basket of socks and we talked about argyle and cheetah-print for awhile. At one point he looked off into the distance and said, with great weight, "I've never seen fuzzy underwear. They're very...... rare." Anyway. We also went into a Lindt store and picked out some chocolate, and got some coffee in the food court. Aunt Betsy's coffee was too strong so she put honey in it. Not sure if this was a midwestern thing or not, I said I'd never seen that before - she shrugged and said, "Me neither." I assume it was alright, because she drank it. I didn't ask for a sip, though.

After we left the outlet mall, we spent a few hours driving around while Aunt Betsy pointed out numerous family-historic sights. I saw the house where Ami and Papa lived for two years after they were married, down on Chickataw Street. And just behind it, joined by one fence between their yards, was the house where Papa's parents lived. I also saw the high school where Papa and Grandpa Emerson went. Oh, and Ami's high school, which is ridiculously beautiful. (I actually was talking to her on the phone when we drove past it.) I saw the library where Ami worked - the one she talks about all the time, where Edris and Somebody Redner worked, and where they hung the art that she painted for them. We drove out to the house where they grew up, the house where Aunt Betsy was born. I remember Ami saying that when she and Papa were dating, he used to come over and wait for her (while she finished getting ready) downstairs in the living room, where Betsy would climb up on his lap and talk to him. I saw the church where Papa and Ami were married. It was such a surreal sort of thing, being in all those places we've heard so much about. Cincinnati is so beautiful, and everything made me think so much of Papa and Ami. It was really wonderful.

We finally found our way back to Chris and Tony's house, where we met up with the rest of the family. We had dinner, played some games and watched a few youtube videos, and then Aunt Betsy drove me back. I really hope to be able to come out here again... maybe next year if I can't come home for Thanksgiving or something. It's just so comforting to know that there are people out here who genuinely love me and want to see me. That's a feeling that I haven't really had in awhile. I missed it.

Alrighty. I'm going to pack up my back so I don't have to worry about it tomorrow. I love you all, and I'm missing you outrageously this week.
Enjoy being together, and I'll see you in a few weeks!
Laura

"Terrible day at Camp Ivanhoe. Let's hope tomorrow is better."

First things first.....

HAPPY FALL BREAK, WHEATON STUDENTS!!!!!

Fall break's timing really is impeccable. I wonder if the faculty has observed that students tend to go crazy around this time, so they gave us a break exactly NOW... or if we only go crazy because we know that a break is coming. Sort of a chicken and the egg question, I guess. In any case, I am glad to have no school until Wednesday. I needed the break.

This week was insane. The busyness is fairly normal, but for whatever reason, this week I was more psychologically/emotionally in dire need of a break than usual. This came to my attention most particularly on Tuesday. I had a six page paper due at 4, and true to college student standards, I was cutting the deadline a bit close. I had just printed it out, and stapled it to my 6 page first draft and the 1 page feedback from my professor. 13 pages, perfectly typed and without an ink smudge or a crinkle. I took my purse and my coat and my stack of paper, said goodbye to Gretchen, and left. But first I went to the bathroom to make sure I looked alright - and promptly dropped my paper, face-down, on the very wet bathroom counter. I snatched it up, but not before the whole first page got quite soaked. Frantically I ran back to my room with the intent of blow-drying the paper because I didn't have time to print it all over again. I opened the door and Gretchen's head popped up expectantly. "Yes?"

I faced her, held up my paper, and instead of explaining, broke into hysteric laughter. Manic, really. I think I really scared the poor girl. I laughed while I climbed up onto my bookshelf to reach my blow-dryer, and I laughed until my paper was dry. I snickered as I left the room a second time. Not because I thought it was funny... it's just, you know how sometimes things are just so ridiculous and horrible and so.... the last straw? And there's really nothing else you can do aside from laugh. Life is funny that way.

Anyway, that kind of describes the week. It was fine, overall, just... tense. And occasionally hysteric. BUT NOW IT'S OVER. Ah. Thank you, God, for Fridays.

I can't really remember the individual things that I did this week... but that's okay. It's 12:23 in the morning and I need to go to sleep. Important things:

Thursday's Workout was the most relaxing one I've been to. Every day the room takes on a different mood - it's interesting how that happens - and the mood yesterday was very relaxed and peaceful. A lot of it involved just lying on the floor and breathing, which is always good. We don't take enough time to think about breathing in everyday life. We also played a game where everyone sat in a semi-circle facing a chair; one person would volunteer to go and sit in the chair, and sing a song from their childhood. They'd sing it through once and then we'd join them the second time. It was quite probably my favorite game we've played in Workout. Songs from childhood are so evocative. I was sorely tempted to go up and do one; but the only song I could really think of was The Philosopher Song. Which I've already promised to teach many of the Workout members... but I didn't feel that it would be quite appropriate in this context. Later I kicked myself for not singing Toora Loora. Ah well. There's always next year.

One of the other things that we did, while we were lying on the floor breathing, was figure out ways to 'bless each other' in some physical way. We all had our eyes closed and Mark came around and touched some of us (I was one in the first group) to signify that we were designated "blessers." When he said that he wanted us to go and bless as many people as we could in six or seven minutes, I (English major that I am) immediately thought of verbal encouragements that I could give. But then I remembered that hardly anything in Workout is verbal, which scares me sometimes. But it ended up being a really wonderful thing to do - it's interesting how physical touch, even if it's just holding someone's hand or placing your hands on their head or their feet, can really be meaningful to people. I'm not a naturally touchy person... but I really liked that exercise.

Today was a full day of classes, but it was wonderful because I knew that every class was my last for half a week. YAY. Except for my Bible class, for which today really WAS the last day - it's a quad class (half a semester). So I'm done now. ALSO YAY. (It sounds bad, I know, to be happy about a Bible class ending. But you weren't in this class.) So on Thursday I start up another quad class: Health and Wellness. At 8:30 AM. Ugh. Not psyched about that one.

Also, bad news bears. My laptop seems to have a virus. I took it in today and the guys couldn't get the internet to connect. Thankfully I know one of them from Workout - so even though the IT Services will be closed for fall break, he's agreed to meet me on Sunday and take a better look at it. Yay. But until then... computer lab, you and I are going to be really good friends by the end of this week.

Ummmm what else. More French conversation aid today - this time we talked about how I don't know how to ride a bike. He offered to teach me; I'm half tempted to ask that we do that next time instead of speaking French. It might be easier.

Tonight I hung out with one of the girls from church (who also lives two floors under me); we went to Chipotle (SO. GOOD. And SO. MISSED.) and then went grocery shopping so that I could buy more tortilla chips (yes, I have an addiction), good lotion, crackers and brie cheese. (I miss cheese. They don't give us cheese here.) Then we came back to campus and watched Moonrise Kingdom. It was a glorious evening.

Tomorrow I'm going into Chicago with another friend. I think we're going to the Art Institute, but I'm not too picky at this point... I'm just happy to get back into the city! I've been there four times, but three of those times were to see plays - so I was basically in a bus until we got to the theater doorstep. I've only explored the city once, back during orientation week. Going with someone that I know and actually enjoy hanging out with will be infinitely better.

Eeee. Okay. I'm going to sleep. I just had an hour-long conversation with Kate, which made me ridiculously happy. I love that girl. I don't know what I'm going to do without her until February - did I mention she's going to be in EUROPE UNTIL THEN? - but I'm so excited for her. Go rock the world, man.

Oh! P.S. Today is the 60th day since I left home. Prior to this, the longest I've ever been away from home was my 59 day stint in Europe. From this point on, every day is a record-breaking day.

A common plight

of Monday afternoons, especially when the weather is beautiful like today's, is that I feel like treating myself to a nice long walk around downtown when my last class finishes. Or maybe just sitting out on the lawn, reading Salinger because Salinger is not assigned reading. (And because he's wonderful. But that hardly needs to be pointed out.) But because it IS Monday, I know that I have a lot of work to take care of so that I don't die in the next few days. So I go back to my room, ceremoniously crunching a few red, yellow and silver leaves in the grass under my boots along the way. But once I get there, instead of buckling down to do homework, I go on Facebook or email or blogspot. I COULD BE OUTSIDE. But because I'm attempting to be a good student, I have to procrastinate in the most studently way possible. I think that's my subconscious logic, anyhow.

It's the stupidest thing. AGH.

I'm going to go do homework. But first of all, I wanted to tell you that there was a tornado warning yesterday. It rained most of the day, and towards evening the storm got quite violent. A bit before dinner, I was up in my room listening to music and washing dishes in the bathroom sink. I noticed, suddenly, that the whole floor had gotten very quiet; in fact, it was entirely deserted. I checked my phone: there was a voicemail from the school safety system, letting me know that a tornado had been sighed in west Chicago and that Wheaton was under severe tornado watch/warning/however-they-phrase-it. So... everyone on my floor had gone down to the basement. (I try not to think too much about the fact that they all deserted me and left me to my fate on the 4th floor...) I had just gone out into the lobby on my way to the stairs when the "all clear" came on. So it could have been a very eventful evening, but I'm rather glad that it wasn't. I like watching rain from my window; I've even grown accustomed to lightning. But I'm not terribly excited about the prospect of meeting a tornado.

I'm eating an apple, and I just bit my lip really hard. Now there's blood on my apple. Gross.

.... you didn't really need to know that. I need to go write a paper. Bye.

OH! P.S. I got into the literary magazine here at Wheaton. Pretty darn psyched about that.

OH AGAIN! P.P.S. A friend invited me over to her family's house in Cincinnati for Thanksgiving. :)

Pour ne pas qu'Octobre nous prenne

*Loosely translated, "so that October won't get us."

Today was a good day, in a different sort of way. It was incredibly grey and dreary and it rained most of the time. And I didn't have an umbrella. But still - it was good. I spent the morning painting the set of The Secret Garden, and then went to lunch with a few of the girls in set crew. There's normally a large band of us set-crewers in the cafeteria for Saturday brunch, but the cast (most of whom are in set-crew) had rehearsal during our brunch-break, so our numbers were considerably diminished. After we ate though, I went back to watch the rehearsal for awhile. I went back to my room then, stopping to check my mail along the way (I got a postcard and a letter today! Score!). I meant to do some studying, but what I ended up mostly doing was trying to get my laptop to work. The cursor is frozen pretty much all of the time now, which means that I can't get anything done on the stupid thing. So at the moment, at 11:45 PM, I'm sitting down in the computer lounge of our building where the light is offensively bright and the AC is (for some unknowable reason) turned on. I don't mind the temperature, but the thing is ridiculously noisy. I've got to get my poor laptop into the tech department... I have so many papers due this week, and I don't know how to get them done properly if I'm working between my laptop (on the occasion that it works), my roommate's, and the computers in the downstairs lounge. Ugh. Technology.

At 4:00 I had a meeting with the editors of the literary magazine here at Wheaton, to discuss revisions for a story that I submitted. I am proud to say that my story is (I'm 99% certain) included in Fall 2012's edition of "Kodon." Woop! I came back to the lounge, made the revisions, submitted the story, and then headed off to a friend's apartment to have (get this) bison burgers. Yeah. We had a grand old evening with food and "Fight Club" and such. All around, it was a good day.

Last night was pretty fabulous, too. My roommate dropped me off at Target for about an hour and I bought many necessary (and some not-so-necessary, but equally important) items. At 10:00 last night, I went to WOTT - Women Of The Theater. Which was basically a large crazy dance/yummy snacks party for girls in the theater department. The last song they played was "Dancing in the Moonlight", at which point we all ran out into the courtyard and hopped around like mad. (The janitor across the way was, I'm sure, very amused. Whatever.) It was pretty glorious. Then one of the girls (the one who supplied me tonight with a bison burger, as a matter of fact) kidnapped me and took me to the local shady burrito restaurant which is pretty legendary around Wheaton. That, too, was glorious. Whew. I've missed Mexican food.

Anyway. I should go to bed so that I don't sleep through church again tomorrow. I just wanted to write a bit of an update and let you all know that I'm still alive. (One of these days, I'll actually write a post for the SAKE of writing a post - letting you know "that I'm alive" isn't, I feel, a fabulous reason for writing.) To those of you who have either emailed me or sent me mail, I want to extend a big hearty thanks, if I haven't already. It means a lot to hear from you.

Here's wishing you a good night's sleep and a healthy supply of rain/dryness (whichever you find yourself in need of).

Just a thought.

"More than anything else, I want to encourage you and remind you that it's alright if you find yourself saying "I don't know" more than "I know." Most of the time we don't really know how to do anything. It's only by the grace of God that we're still alive at all. I know that you know that, but it's good to be reminded. Trust God with your responsibilities like you trust Him with your breath. In, out. In, out. Breathe and know that He is God. He gives and He takes away. He hands us responsibility, and when He sees that our strength to hold it in our hands is failing, He takes it back and holds it in His own. In, out. Accept it from Him with breath, and offer it up to Him as you exhale. In, out."

"I write you letters. I don't know how to get them to you."

Dear Dad and Mom,
I have so much that I want to write about. I won't say "but this has to be brief", though, because whenever someone says that, they never end up being brief at all. (I wonder why that is?) I will start with the present: it is almost 5 in the evening here, and my stomach is rumbling. One of these days I will get back to a store and buy myself more tortilla chips and other late-night snacks, but for now, the best thing I've got to keep me going till meals is (you guessed it) coffee. There is a pot brewing now. Amazingly enough, I haven't yet gone through the supply that I bought on my first day here - but I fear that its end is coming soon. Yet another reason to go shopping. Also, FALL BREAK is in TWO WEEKS. Some people have plans to go to Honeyrock (a camp in Minnesota or some other forsaken place with which Wheaton is heavily involved), while some others plan to go home for the week. I have plans of my own: to wander and explore the downtowns of Wheaton and Chicago to my heart's content. And READING. So much reading. This is, day by day, beginning to sound more and more heavenly. Not to mention incredibly needed. The days and weeks go so fast - I can't believe we're almost halfway through the semester. Two nights ago I dreamt that I was home for Thanksgiving. While this plan is still up in the air (although to be honest, I must confess that I am heavily doubting its possibility or prudence at this point [alliterations! English majors!]), I thought that the dream was at least worth mentioning. In this dream, I was walking across the church parking lot with you and the rest of our family, heading toward the modular for our morning service. I was thinking of things to mention during "What I'm Thankful For" time. (Incidentally, I was going to say, "I'm thankful that I can be home.") Now, I had come back to California without telling anyone other than you guys; and while we were walking up the tree-covered path between buildings, I snuck up behind the Gilbertsons and tapped Jeannie on the shoulder. They both were so happy that they cried. Then Milt came up and hugged me, and asked if I wouldn't mind posing for a picture with Glenda after the service.

Well, speaking of church, I didn't go yesterday. Not on purpose, though. I've apparently gotten very good at turning off my alarm clock (this morning I woke up 15 minutes before a test), and yesterday I didn't wake up at all until close to noon. This was a rough week - we'll just put it that way. I'm thankful for the good amount of sleep, though - I feel better fortified to face this week. Even after today's Monday, I don't feel beat - whereas on last week's Monday, I felt beat from the moment I woke up. So yesterday was a rather abnormal day, but it was a good one. After breakfast I went over to a friend's apartment and read poetry and ate croissants with two other girls from Workout. Then I went to the reading room and sat in front of a huge fire (did I mention that yesterday was in the 40's?) and, with Dante, climbed out of Hell and into Purgatory. (It's all uphill from here, he tells me.) At 6:00 I returned to the apartment, this time with 8 or 9 others. We ate Chinese food and watched "Newsies" and had a rollicking good time. Near 10:00 I returned to my room and studied for this morning's French test (which I nearly slept through. AGH.). I don't think I did supremely well on that test, which is disappointing. But what can an English major do?

Let's see, working backwards.... Saturday was spent in the set-shop. I've grown to really adore Saturdays for that set-shop and its crew. By the time Fridays roll around my mind is in rebellion, claiming abuse; Saturday gives it a chance to relax a bit, and lets my more physical self be worked instead. Friday was full of classes, sleep-deprivation, caffeine, and French conversations. OH! Also, the college group from Bethel got together at somebody's house and spent the evening making pizzas and singing around a campfire. It was pretty glorious. A few of us girls made a Target run afterwards, but I didn't buy anything. I'm waiting for a time when someone can just drive me there and drop me off for say, three hours, while I work toward crossing things off of my "to buy" list. I had promised myself that I'd get into bed as soon as I got back to my room that night, but instead, one of my new friends came back to my room with me and we sat and talked for a few hours. I didn't sleep as much as I needed to that night - but I'm glad it happened the way it did.

Thursday. THURSDAYYYY. Well, everything was fairly normal until I got to Workout. I was feeling drained already by 4 in the afternoon (oh, haha, especially because I had been working all night and morning on a paper for my Lit class, and then when I went to turn it in, I couldn't get into my teacher's office! It all got sorted out eventually, but it was quite a process, which meant that I was late getting to the theater building. Which meant that I was drained AND stressed when I entered the room.). In fact, I didn't even want to be there at all; I was feeling too grouchy and emotional to be asked to do what we do in Workout. But as it happened, we didn't have Workout that day. We were all there - but half of the group was working on putting stamps and addresses on our seasonal-information mail, and since we were all going to a play that night, it would have been a short meeting anyway... so the director just canceled it. Which meant that we got to sit in the living room in our comfy Workout clothes and hang out for an hour. We then ate dinner together before our bus came. At 5:30 we boarded (all 55 of us), and it was a fabulous night. We saw Mary Zimmerman's "Metamorphosis" (which is based on Ovid, not Kafka). I don't really know what to say about it, other than that it was beautiful. Somehow I have to write a two page theater review on it tonight... but I have no idea how to do that. Some things you just can't put into technical terms. (The subject line of this email, by the way, is from "Eurydice"; hers was one of the stories told in the play, and this particular passage was read during yesterday afternoon's poetry reading. Eurydice's father, who is dead, writes her letters from the Underworld; he is one of the few there who still remembers how to read and write, but he can't let any of the others know, or they will dip him in the river of forgetfulness again. He concludes his letter by telling Eurydice, "I write you letters. I don't know how to get them to you." My heart broke.)

It is now after 5:00. I'm glad I didn't pretend that this letter was going to be brief. I have another class in about an hour and a half, but first I'm going to go get dinner "to go" from The Stupe so that I can eat and do homework at the same time. I have the review to write, some theater theory to read, and 13 cantos of Purgatory to traverse before I meet my bed tonight. I wanted to take this opportunity, though, to give you an update and let you know that everything is going well. I am still my silly self, and God is still His good and gracious self. I depend on each of these facts for my survival here.

I hope you're both well. Give my love to the wonderful folks at home for me; and tell the Gilbertsons that, were I to come home for Thanksgiving, they'd be the first to see me.

I'm glad that I can write you letters. I'm glad I know how to get them to you.
All my love,
Laura

And I heard you say, right when you left, that day, "Does everything go away?"

I have a class in the Billy Graham Center, across the street from campus. When I was stepped outside after class tonight to walk back to my room, I was struck by the strangeness of a familiar smell: salt. Ocean salt. I have no idea how it smelled like that - maybe being sick has just thrown my senses way off. But to me, at any rate, it was very evocative of my last night at home. And while I walked back across the street, the lawn, and through the lamp-lit center of campus, I was looking up at the overcast midwestern sky and thinking of how the sky over the shore of California looked exactly the same at 2:30 AM that day.

I had spent that afternoon packing, and Kate had kept me company the whole time - sitting on my bed, helping me sort through my clothes and watching funny youtube videos with me when I was getting too stressed to make good decisions. At about 2 in the morning, my stress was replaced by super-stress, depression, and crabbiness. I still had a million things to do and I was tired; it had been an insane and emotional week and I was running on almost no sleep at all. I'm not sure if this is an accurate memory or not, but I seem to remember being literally pulled to my feet by Kate, who told me to get a coat on because we were going outside. We got into her car and found ourselves at the beach. We'd gone there a few times late at night over the summer - mostly around performance weekends. (I remember that because we would both hop around for awhile and kick sand at the waves, then run opposite directions along water, and then, at the top of our lungs, we'd sing/shout whatever we wanted the ocean to hear. For my part, I mostly sang the French verse of "Storybook" from The Scarlet Pimpernel; I think I sang it better to the ocean than I ever did to an audience. With more oomph, certainly.) That night, we didn't do much raucous shouting or singing, though. I remember that we took our time getting to the water's edge; I remember stepping into the water; then I remember running, as fast as I could possibly go, away from Kate and the factory; and then I remember stopping, just looking out and feeling my heart pound like mad. And then Kate was next to me. I don't think we said anything at all. We just stood there for a long time, looking around, and then we both turned around and started walking back to the car. I was about to look back at the ocean one last time (sentimentalist that I am), but right then Kate took my hand. "I like New York in June. How about you?"

By the time we got to the last "How about you?", our feet were dusted off, and we closed the car doors to shut out the cool, salty ocean air.

Well, Kate. Now that I've had time to really think about it, I don't know how I feel about New York in June. I mean, I've never seen it. But Oxnard in August - that was nice.

In case you were wondering, I am...

-Alive
-Busy
-Sleep-deprived
-Well-fed
-Getting healthier
-Not freezing (yet)
-Going to class in eleven minutes

Over and out, my loved ones.

PS. HAPPY OCTOBER!

Snuggling Honey

How do nights keep getting away from me? I had such a productive day, and then I got back to my room at 8:00 (two hours ago now) with the intent of reading more of The Aeneid... and somehow I haven't done anything in the meantime. Except submit a story to the school literary magazine. I guess that's something.

I am tired. Not sleep-deprivation tired, just exhausted. I've been sick for a few days - well, since Saturday night, really - and it just has knocked life out of me. I've had to resort to drinking tea. This is how you know I'm in pain.

Also, okay, slight detour to rant: I bought some day-time cold medicine at the student store today, and it cost $8.50! What?! There's no way it should be that expensive. They extort us poor dying students with no cars and nowhere else to go. Bah, I say. BAH.

(Because colds evidently turn me into an angry sheep. We are not surprised.)

[... an angry sheep who refers to herself by the Royal We.]

Okay. Enough parentheticals.

Anyway. My goals for the weekend were to get more sleep and do a lot of homework. I kind of failed at both. But it was a good weekend, at any rate. I spent Saturday in the set-shop, learning how to use power-tools and saws and things. It will be empowering, I think, once I learn how to not be afraid of everything. That said, it was a fabulous time. The crew is made up of a bunch of really fun people and we had a blast. I can't really remember what I did on Saturday night; possibly some homework, possibly some procrastination. Sunday followed its regular routine with church and brunch. I came back to my room at around 2, did some homework, and then fell asleep for three hours. I really don't remember much after that; yesterday was not my best day, health- and conscious-wise. Oh! I do remember that I went to the floor Bible study last night. My RA started one, and only four or five of us go... but it's really nice. I look forward to it all Sunday.

Today I knocked out quite a few things on my daily to-do list (I fill a page with bullet-points every day - only about half of them get crossed off by the time I go to bed. But the knowledge of that inevitability doesn't stop me from writing them all out, anyway.). Not anything fascinating enough to write about; I just wanted you to know that I worked hard. ;) I did do a pretty cool project for my Theater Survey class, however. Our assignment was "create a visual response to Trojan Women", so I made a collage comprised of images of Oxnard and Troy together. Under the torn edges of these pictures, I put a picture of my face that someone took during a mime presentation - it's a very dramatic, anguished sort of face. (I thought this was appropriate because, first of all, it's a very dramatic, anguishing sort of play; but also because in class we've been talking about how masks were used in traditional Greek theater, because the Greeks felt that masks were actually more expressive than a naked human face.) And along the side, looking very stern and shadowy, is Athena - whom the Trojans were not particularly fond of. Anyway... I like it. ;)

The weather has gotten a bit warmer - today it was about 70 degrees. Or so they said. It felt much cooler than that, but I think that's due to the breeze. In any case, it's been sunny, which is nice. And I can see the stars at night again. The moon is also coming back around - in a few nights, I should be able to see her from my window again.

Time for more tea. I wish I had honey... hm. I'll have to think of a way to smuggle some out of the cafeteria. (The first time I wrote "snuggle". I like honey but I don't think I'd like to snuggle with it.)

Alright. Tea and reading. Goodnight.

I picture you out there; it must be beautiful this time of year.

It's been getting steadily colder here in Wheaton, but today was the first completely gray, dreary, drizzly day we've had. I absolutely loved it.

I wore my jacket, scarf and boots and wandered around between classes with a thermos of coffee and my copy of The Aeneid. I was also out of my room more today than I have been most days, I think, which was a refreshing change. Breakfast at 8:30, French at 9:15, and I'd normally march to chapel as a member of the stream of students on routine, but today I went back to my room for awhile instead. I finished a paper for Lit, worked on a project for Beth and Kayleigh (whose birthdays are both coming up - ONE YEAR FOR MY TINY NIECE!) and then went to Literature at 12:45. I didn't end up going to lunch because I wasn't hungry today. Bible is right after Lit; our professor began class by showing us the newest long trailer for Les Miserables, which I AM SO EXCITED ABOUT!!!!!, but that was the most interesting part of class. Unfortunately. Why can't a class about the Church and our culture be more interesting? It's disheartening. Anyway, at 3:05 we finished - and after very nearly falling asleep several times in class (sleep and I did not meet much this week), I headed out into the ever-wintering world outside. I got a coffee at Sam's (the little cafe in the Student Center) and went over to the library cafe to meet a French guy.

... Sorry, I just wanted to say that. Actually, it's a required part of my Intermediate French class - once every two weeks, we have to meet with a conversation aid and have a twenty minute conversation, en francais. It went fairly well, I think - although I've now developed a stutter in French, too. I'll need to get over that.

But sheesh, it is SO frustrating, not knowing the words to say what you want to say. I have such respect for non-English speakers who move to America and try to learn our crazy language. It's so humbling to KNOW what you want to say, and not know the words in that language to say it with. Words. Agh. Murder.

That was the tiring, slightly dreary half of my day - but the last half was fabulous. When I left the library, it was just starting to rain. I was in rebellion at the idea of returning to my room and doing homework, because that's all I've been doing in my spare time this week... so I called Amelia, who I haven't spoken to more than once in this entire month, and we talked for a good hour or so while I wandered around downtown Wheaton in the rain. It was so lovely. I was really struck by how incredibly nostalgic today's weather made me feel - it was the first time this month that something here in Illinois has reminded me of California. Not that we often have gray, drizzly days in California - but they come in the autumn, sometimes, and it seems to put everyone in such a festive, cheerful mood. We have seasons for a day. It just feels right, you know? Those are the days that we Californians get to wear the jackets and the scarves that we keep in our closets all year, just waiting for a chance to break them out. They're the days when we complain about being cold, but we do it with rosy cheeks and a smile. They're the days when we make ourselves hot chocolate after dinner, and when we get distracted from studying for our midterms when we look out the window to see whether or not it's still raining. They're the only days when we really notice our trees - whether or not their leaves change color, they do look more beautiful when they're wet. They're the days that reminded me, today, of my autumns spent in the houses of my friends, working on crafts and listening to Christmas music. Glitter and pumpkins. Warm muffins. Spicy cider. Candles. Blankets and the sound of raindrops hitting the windowpanes.

The houses I passed this afternoon as I walked down the old neighborhood streets downtown, where trees line the sidewalks and form a ceiling of leaves over the road, each seemed to be filled with this kind of autumnal contentment. Somehow all of their windows seemed to glow with that light, that embodiment of cheer and warmth. I was so reminded of the living rooms of my friends throughout the autumns past that it felt like I should be able to simply walk up one of these driveways, open the front door, and be greeted by a host of voices that I know and love. But then I'd hear Amelia's voice on my phone, from thousands of miles away, ask me something like, "So have you met any cool people?" And I'd remember that those living rooms are in California, and I'm not.

It's alright. It is. I mean, I'd be a liar if I said that I didn't miss those rooms, and the people who inhabit them - but I'm finding my place here. And really, it's a nice thing, I think, that my place in Illinois is capable of making me think fondly of my place in California.

I talked to Amelia until 6, at which time I met Gretchen for dinner. Then, along with another girl, we went to Target and spent awhile shopping around for various necessary items. My final winnings included tortilla chips, yoga pants, and a big baggy shirt with The Beatles and the union-jack on it. Yes, I am a classy college student. Once we got back to our room, Gretchen and I pushed homework off even further and did some cleaning. She eventually got around to studying, I think, but I did a load of laundry and then talked to Megan and Kate on the phone for about an hour. I was considering reading more of Virgil tonight, but I started writing here instead - and now I'm starting to doze. It's only 12:13, but I am supremely tired. It's been a long week. AND, tomorrow I'm going to spend all day in the theater building, working on set-crew. I hear they will be serving us donuts... I can only pray that there will be coffee, too.

I hope things are well with you; do try and get some rest tonight. The world needs more well-rested people.

By the by, it's too cloudy tonight to see any stars or planets. But the wet pavement shines nicely with the glow of streetlamps, and that's good enough for me tonight. Goodnight.

In lieu of an actual blog-posting...

I didn't have time to write both. ;)

Good afternoon, Dad!
I was going to say "good morning", but it is getting on towards noon for you, so I believe my salutation to be appropriate.

Thank you for your note - it's always nice to come back to my room and find a word from home. It does, however, always fill me with a regret that I wasn't the first one to write. I know you understand business - even more than I do - but it has been a particularly crazy week for me. Tomorrow is Friday and I can't wait. My brain is at the end of its wits. Also, I need to set aside time to update my blog. It has fallen profusely behind.

I'm so sorry to hear about our sick and leprous van, but even more sorry to hear about your 52 minute stroll. Why did you not just sleep in your office? I hope the weather was nice, at the very least. In recent nights here, a midnight walk home would not be very enjoyable. Lately the skies get cloudy at night and block out the moon and stars - not to mention it is usually in the low 40's after sundown. Although occasionally I can still see a planet from my window; that's how I de-stress before going to bed, after I've been doing homework for hours and hours. If you were to wander the streets of Wheaton's campus in the early hours of the morning and look up, you would see a window lined with twinkle-lights whose inhabitant is leaning on a windowsill, chin in hands, searching the skies for something familiar.

Where are you planting all of these vegetables? I should very much like to see what the garden looks like currently; it sounds quite exciting. How are Zacchaeus and sickly Argus? How is Frederic? Has Kate been watering the small plant in my room? I thought about my room yesterday and was filled with a very strange disconnect. I decided not to think about it further.

Also, what Noah and The Whale have you been listening to? I knew the song "Five Years Time" before I came to school, but that was as far as my knowledge of them went. Then one day I randomly had it stuck in my head, so I played it - and then discovered other wonders, such as Blue Skies, Our Window, and Shape of My Heart. I just love their sound.

My eyes are hurting these days from so much reading. As it happens, almost all of my classes right now (with the exception of French) are giving me classical Greek literature to read - whether or not the class has anything to do with literature. I have read The Odyssey, Oedipus Rex, Trojan Women and am currently wading through The Aeneid - all in the past week or two. The names are playing hell-fire with my mind. Today in a discussion of Trojan Women I started referencing Greek characters; and the gods - zeus! - I wish that the Greeks and the Romans would decide and agree on ONE name for each one. I am exhausting every character-glossary in the book. Or should I say, bookS.

Last night I wrote my paper on evangelicalism. I will send it along to you soon, as you had quite a bit of influence on it. By the way, I feel that it is important to stress the fact that I FINISHED this paper - and it's not due until tomorrow. This is a victory for me. What else? The French test went well, I think. I'm expecting a low A or a high B. Also, I don't think I told you about my first day in Workout when we spoke on Tuesday night. Which is surprising. Today is our second day, so I'll be heading out in about an hour. There's apparently a nice tradition of eating dinner together, directly after Workout, on Tuesdays and Thursdays; so that's something to look forward to, too. Anyway, we can talk about Workout when next we speak. It is very strange, and a little frightening at moments - but I think it's a good kind of frightening. I think it will be very good for me. Also, a nice thing about it is that you can wear whatever comfy clothes you want - which means that some people wear pajamas. I think today I will wear the red flannel button-up that you handed down to me. I've been wearing it at nights when I do homework, by the way. It's a good cozy thing to have. Speaking of cozy, tell Mom thank you for forcing me to bring that extra blanket.

Well, I have to do some French homework and read another 100 pages of the Aeneid so that I can write a paper on it - for tomorrow morning. Agh. My coffee pot and I will be burning the late-night oil for yet another evening.

Maybe I will find a planet tonight, though. That would be nice.

Thank you again for keeping me updated about things going on at home. I do love to hear from you. Also, I hope your Thursday is better than your weird Wednesday. Give my love to the girls, and call Suki a particularly creative and vicious name.
Much love,
Roger

Hey kid, it's just what I needed today.

I'm sitting on the floor of my dorm room, horrible florescent out and cheery twinkle-lights on, with some brilliant person's youtube playlist playing "Five Years Time" by Noah and The Whale to me. It's midnight, and I'm waking up in 6 1/2 hours... and as long as I'm up, I really should be finishing Oedipus Rex (which I ALWAYS sound out phonetically in my mind whenever I see it printed... it's horrible) or writing a paper. Or two papers. But I'm not. I've been spending too many nights hunched over notebooks and typing up papers; I'm taking tonight off. Well, at least this next half hour or so. And then I'll give in and go to bed.

Speaking of bed... I AM incredibly tired. So this will be brief. (We'll see... I always say that, and then it never is.)

The last few days have been really busy, and really good. Wednesday was fairly normal, with the exception that the fire alarm in the cafeteria went off literally the second I opened the door to go in and eat lunch. So the whole building was evacuated and nobody was allowed back inside for a good half hour - at which time I had to go to class, so I didn't eat lunch that day. But I did run into the pastor of the church I've been going to; he waved me down and we spent a good 20-25 minutes talking about our families and literature. I'd say it was a lunch break well-spent; I've promised to look up his son's photography magazine, and he's promised to read The Little Prince.

Wednesday was also the beginning of a large number of happy run-ins with people congratulating me on getting into Workout. Some were people who have been hearing me talk about it through the whole process; some were people I hardly even knew. Gretchen's been really sweet about it, and has been telling all her friends that her roommate got in - and then she reports back to me, with things like, "So-and-so was so excited that you got in in your first year - that's huge!" Apparently new people don't usually get in for their first year. So that's cool. She also said that that meant they saw something "extraordinary" in me, which I think confirms my secret suspicion that Workout members are actually superheroes in disguise. Also, one girl who's already in Workout found me the other day and gave me this big hug and said, "I'm just so excited for you. When I found out that you got in, I thought, this is gonna be a good year." That made me pretty darn happy.

So Wednesday night, Gretchen and I went out for frozen yogurt to celebrate with two girls who live a few floors down, and that was lovely.

Nothing extraordinary happened on Thursday during the day, but at 5:30 I met my Theater Survey class in front of the theater awning and we boarded a school bus, Chicago-bound. Downtown, crammed in between so many buildings that you wouldn't see it unless you were really hunting for it, stands The House Theater. It's a fabulously small, over-decorated, quirky, old-fashioned and yet very modern place. The play we saw was called The Iron Stag King, Part I - and it was brilliant. Agh, describing it would take too long - suffice it to say, I loved it. The staging itself was genius. ACK. PROFESSIONAL THEATER. SO GOOD. We're going to see three professional plays, total, this semester - and for each one, we're supposed to write up a play report right afterwards. And since our professor wants us each to develop our own opinions, we weren't allowed to talk about the play on the 40 minute drive home. That was SO FRUSTRATING. I got back to my dorm at about 11:30 and wrote until 1:30; and any time that I ran into a classmate today, my first question was always, "Did you write your paper yet?" And then we'd debate opinions and such. I love this part of school.

Today has felt very long - I think it's because I spend Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays being in and out of so many different buildings and parts of the campus that it begins to feel like one day is really made up of several. I finished my classes at 3:05 today, studied in my room until dinner, had dinner with some other girls, and then holed up in the library for a few hours. At 9:45 I headed across campus to go to the first Workout meeting. It was only about a half hour long - long enough to make some introductions, then stand in a circle and grow very quiet for a few solid minutes, and then receive our instructions for tomorrow. It's the Workout Retreat, so we'll be gone all day - only, nobody but the director and the seniors know where we're going. All we were told was "wear comfortable clothes". Oh, and we're not allowed to speak to each other until we get to our destination. I am intrigued.

But mostly I'm just incredibly excited. I'm starting to feel like myself again, and it's wonderful to be plugged into a group like this one.

I just really need to make sure that I don't let myself procrastinate in school so much, now that time is going to be a bit... limited, shall we say. Cause I've got two papers due this next week, and a French test... and I haven't really done what I need to do to prepare for those things yet. Ah well... I've still got a few days, right? ;)

I just zoned out and stared at the twinkle-lights for about five minutes. I'm going to bed.

ps.

Just checked my mailbox (which I actually couldn't open on my own... thank you, random girl who helped me). And guess what?

I GOT INTO WORKOUT!

(Meaning the theater group. So when I refer to 'Workout' from now on, that's what I mean. I have not been overwhelmed by a new zeal for exercise.)

SO PSYCHED. YAY!

9/11

Shortly after I turned off my computer before I went to bed, I realized that today is September 11th. It's always a surreal feeling, every year, realizing that. There are many things that can be said about that, many reasons that it feels that way - that it's still shocking, after eleven years, that the event even happened. That such evil and hatred and base violence could happen on our own soil; that it could happen by the hand of men; that man can be so wicked. That even though many of us didn't know the victims, and have never been to New York, we still somehow feel involved. That whole generations, including those who weren't yet born, have promised to "Never Forget". That our eyes still water and our stomachs feel sick when we see images of the burning buildings; of people jumping from windows hundreds of stories up.

People always talk about where they were when they heard what had happened that morning, or when they saw the story unfold on the news. My memory of that day is very different - I came downstairs to get breakfast, and found Mom on the phone in front of the TV, weeping. I don't remember what was showing on the TV - just how my mom looked as she watched. In a way I feel guilty about that; it's like every American can remember what they saw and how they felt as they watched the Towers burn and fall, but I have no memory of watching it myself. As hard as I try to remember, all I can see is that silent display of human grief and compassion that was taking place in my living room. And as much as I grieve and sympathize with the people who lost loved ones that day, that is the image that I'll never forget.

Nobody on campus has even mentioned 9/11 today. I came back from lunch just now, turned on my computer, and had a Facebook newsfeed full of pictures and Bible verses and more slogans about "remembering". I've spent the last 45 minutes looking at those posts, reading articles, looking at National Geographic websites and photos from that day. My heart is broken for this world. It's impossible to understand why such horrible things happen; I can't even understand the things themselves.

It's necessary for us to be able to go on with our lives - we can't just be paralyzed by fear. But on days like today, it's difficult to think about just "going on with our lives" when the images on our screens remind us, all over again, that we live in a terrifying, unsafe place. How do we cope with that? How do we move on? How do we live?

David had an answer to that. "In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for You, O Lord, make me dwell in safety."

Our hearts can still be broken; I don't think that's wrong. I don't think it's wrong, either, to acknowledge that there will be times when we'll be terrified of the things that happen in our world. But that terror shouldn't be the thing that we remember. The thing that we should promise "never to forget" is the fact that our imperishable souls are held and protected by an all-powerful, all-loving God. In Him, we dwell in safety.

Pray for the peace of those in grief today; pray to be given that peace yourself. Pray that God will put an end to violence and protect the innocent. And pray that we, as a nation, will become a people who never forgets what is True.

Only One

I am only one, but I am one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something. And I will not let what I cannot do interfere with what I can do. -Edward Everett Hale

On our first day, the head-honchos in the mail-room put little day-planners in our mailboxes. I suppose they were trying to get us off to a good start, being good managers of time and such. (Can't blame them for trying, can we?) I flipped through mine and promptly put it into my desk drawer (which has become, as Mom prophesied and as I denied, a junk drawer); I've never looked at it again. While flipping through it on the walk from the mail-room to my dorm, though, I came across a few quotes that framed the occasional calendar page. That one of Mr. Hale's really stuck with me. It is often said around here that Wheaton students are chronic over-achievers; thus far, I have no reason to doubt that statement, so I can understand why this quote is included in our day-planners. Once classes started, I quickly realized that it's really not possible to do all the reading for all my classes - or at least, to do it really well. So, as Kate would say, I've chosen my hills and cut my losses - I'm learning to, anyway. Don't worry, Mom and Dad, this isn't to say that I'm slacking off and resigning myself to bad grades. Quite the opposite. I'm merely realizing afresh that I am not a perfect person, nor a perfect student. But that's alright. I'm learning quite a lot each day - and probably just as much outside of the classroom as in. (Take that statement to mean what you will. Some part of whatever you just thought of is probably true.)

Oy, where to start? I've got a bad habit of putting off writing here until I'm too tired to do it in any good, creative way. The past week has gone incredibly quickly. Monday was a holiday, and I can't really remember what I did - I'm assuming it was homework. That's a safe guess for me these days. Tuesday was busy - after my Intro to Theater class, I went to a meeting for the theater department (which here means, everyone who is in/wants to be involved in the theater department here at Wheaton). The meeting was just a way of meeting people and getting information on how to get involved; especially in Workout, which is the core group of actors (actually, you can only be in school plays if you're in Workout) who make up the theater here. It's a group of 40, max, and you have to audition to get in. I auditioned on Thursday - but more on that in a minute. That evening I had dinner at the caf with some of the other theater Will-Be's (we hope) and seniors who are in Workout. We had a similar dinner last night, except at one of the girl's houses instead of the caf; it was great. I hope hope HOPE I get into Workout, because they're a great group. Being with them is the closest I feel to being myself and being home that I've felt in three weeks. Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. After that dinner on Tuesday, I went to the first night of the Swing Dance Club. It was pretty fun - a little overwhelming because there were about 130 people, and a little boring because we spent two hours doing the basic step... but. I think it'll be fun once it gets going. Wednesday and Friday were full of classes, and the weekend was full of homework. Also, there was an instance of country line dancing/square dancing in the football stadium on Saturday night. And although I detest country music with every fiber of my being, I have to admit that it was fun. I even wore plaid.

Anyway, so Thursday was my audition. We were given two sheets of paper with a bunch of paragraph-length monologues, and told to memorize and prepare one. I had two days to choose, but I couldn't decide between three very different monologues.... which meant that on Wednesday night, I decided that I'd see what mood I was in when I woke up the next morning, and go with that one. Apparently I was feeling very angsty when I woke up, because I chose the most emotion-charged monologue on the list (which, in retrospect, I'm very glad for. Nervous energy pays off when you're supposed to have nervous energy, anyway). The auditions were done in groups of six - and between the six of us, we took an hour and a half. We each went up and performed the bit we had rehearsed - and then the director would talk to us a bit, and have us do something drastically different with the same monologue. Sometimes we had to do really weird things; sometimes just mildly weird. But with every one of us, the director was somehow able to pick out the one area we weren't comfortable with - and then he hammered at it to see what would happen. Each of us had to give our monologue five or six times, and it was totally different every time. Some people had to change character and motive completely, even if it had nothing to do with the speech itself. Some people just had to walk at certain points in their speech, or try to get someone else to walk to them. Me? I had to throw a pillow at a Workout-Senior whenever I felt like I "needed something" from her. Another time, I had to maintain eye-contact with her while delivering one line at a time; the director would clap when it was alright for me to say the next line. Sometimes he clapped right away, and sometimes he waited for almost a full minute, and I had to figure out how to convincingly fill the time. That was really difficult - and weirdly emotional. I felt completely drained afterward. But I think it actually ended up being almost better than the way I'd rehearsed it. I always seem to feel that way after acting - at least, after I feel like I've done it well. It's so rewarding, and so completely draining. There's nothing like it.

I find out tomorrow whether or not I got in. I've been trying not to think about it that much, but it's getting hard. There are 26 returning Workout members, which means that out of everyone who auditioned over the last week, only 14 will get in. I've been told not to take it personally if I don't make it; that a lot of people don't get in on their first year. But agh. I need to be in a theater community again. I need to have a home.

Anyway. What else? Over the last week I've thought of so many little things that I wanted to blog about, but now I can't remember them. Typical. Oh! Big news - it's officially autumn weather. I've been feeling it coming for about three days now, but today everyone was saying it - it's unmistakable, that crispness in the air. The days are still bright and sunny, but the hot humidity has been replaced with a cool breeze. Sometimes it's downright cold, in fact. I'm already starting to feel like a wimp, temperature-wise. I hope it's not a harsh winter, at least not for my first year out here. Anyway, it's perfect right now. Also, the leaves are starting to turn. Just at the tops of the trees, and only some of them - but it's definitely there. I can't wait - this campus will be breathtaking in a completely new way in just a few weeks.

The day-time is glorious right now, but the nights are nice, too. I think the cold breeze must be blowing the haze out of the air, because for the last couple of nights I've been able to see stars. I haven't really been able to see them since my first night here. On Friday night, I turned out my bedroom light and realized that I could see the moon and two really bright stars on either side of it, through my window. I wanted to know if they were planets, so I looked it up (apparently there are websites for these things!) and discovered that they were, in fact, Jupiter (to the left) and Venus (to the right). Crazy. I sat on the windowseat and leaned my chin on our windowsill and watched the three lights until I fell asleep.

That was a pretty beautiful way to go to sleep.

Oh, another nice thing - on Saturday I was in the library for a research workshop, and while I was emailing things to myself, I got a note from Dad. He told me to go to the library (surprise! I was there!) and he gave me the reference number for a book. So after the workshop was finished I hunted around until I found a book on Katherine Hepburn (labeled in bold red letters, "KATE", which made me smile). Inside, bookmarking a chapter titled "On Top of the World", was a picture of my family from many moons ago; in the picture, we're standing next to the "Welcome to California!" sign that we pass each time we go to Lake Tahoe. We're all in our heinously young and awkward phases (I am sporting a low pony-tail, braces, a tankini top and jean shorts, and velcro sandals), but it's still a lovely picture. That made me incredibly happy, by the way, Dad. I'm looking forward to finding other similar treasures in cleverly chosen literature.

In other news, I've figured out my mailbox lock. Gretchen had to help me again, but I think this time I've got it! Well, we'll see tomorrow, at any rate. In the past two days I've received a lot of school mail, but I've also received a letter from a young friend and a package from the Brubakers. (Including a painting of a penguin that is actually Kayleigh's foot! It's ridiculous, but I actually almost cried when I saw how big her footprint is these days. Stop growing, children!) So I feel loved.

In other other news... well, I don't know. But things are going better. Some days I'm overwhelmed, some days I miss people so much it hurts, but every day I find good things, too. I'm learning a lot about people - some good things, some bad things, a lot of stupid things... and I'm learning a lot about myself, too. (Ditto the good, the bad, and the stupid part.) I'm also learning to rely on God in a very new, practical way. Which is good and, I'm realizing, incredibly necessary to one's survival. So yes - college is teaching me a lot. Sometimes I even learn in my classes. ;)

Oh, okay. I'd be remiss if I didn't say this at least once in my time at college... university-bound kids: no matter how awesome the cafeteria seems during orientation, you WILL get sick of it after four days. Stock up on bread, nuts, and coffee while you can.

Also, potato chips. AGH. NEED SNACK FOODS.

It's midnight, and I'm going to go to bed. Well, I'm going to lay in bed and read The Odyssey. (We're almost done, by the way. I feel so much more accomplished and intellectual than I did three weeks ago.)

Goodnight!

Two weeks.

Crazy.

You wander down the lane and far away...

Today was a nice day. I'm incredibly tired and it's almost 1 AM here, so this will be short. But I feel like after yesterday, I owe it to my family to write a post and let them (and you all) know that things are starting to look up.

I went back to the OPC church here in Wheaton this morning. I'd intended on visiting a different church every week until I'd at least experienced each of them, before choosing one... and I may still do that in a future semester. But I went back to the Bethel for two reasons - three, maybe. The most superficial being that they have a shuttle that brings students from Wheaton to the church and back again. Secondly, it IS very much like my home church and after this week, I needed a little bit of home. Thirdly - okay, so there are four reasons. But thirdly, the teaching is very sound and the music is very beautiful. And fourthly, today they began a 15-week course in the adult Sunday school class on modern Roman Catholicism, and how it relates and differs to the reformed faith. I thought that sounded intriguing; the first class was, anyway. So I'm pretty sure that I'm going to attend the church for this semester, at least. But I don't know - the people there are so nice, and there's a good little group of Wheatonites who go there together, and I might just end up staying. We'll see. It was nice, though - after Sunday school, we all rode back to campus and went to brunch at the cafeteria together. For the first time in a few days, I didn't have to stress about finding people to sit with or worry about looking weird if I sat alone. It was really nice.

After that, everyone went their separate ways and I went up to my room to play guitar for awhile. Then Jon called me, which was wonderful - we talked for two or three hours. I read for a little bit after that, and then went to the little restaurant on campus (the cafeteria is only open for brunch on Sundays) and got a burger and fries to go. I sat on my favorite lawn until it got dark, and then wandered over to Evans. (Evans Hall is where I live, by the way. Not some guy's house.) I wasn't really sure what I was going to do with my evening, but I knew I wanted some coffee re-heated. So I poured myself a cup and went down four flights of stairs to the kitchen in the basement (where our only microwave is located, along with a few lounges, a piano, a foosball table, and the laundry room). In the kitchen, I found one of the girls from church, making herself some macaroni. We talked for a while until both of us were finished with our various comfort foods/drinks; once we left the kitchen, we continued the conversation while she did a few loads of laundry. We ended up just sitting on the floor of the laundry room and talking for about three hours. It was so nice! (Why is it that some of my favorite conversations happen while I'm sitting on some random floor with somebody? Weird.) She's one of the few people I've met who I really felt like myself with. (Something about that is very grammatically incorrect. But I'm too tired to figure it out... and you know what I mean.) I think the best part, though, was towards the end - there's a lounge right next to the laundry room, and at 10:30 or so, two music majors came down and started playing the piano and the trumpet together. They started with "When the Saints Come Marching In", which nearly made me want to kill them - but they quickly changed over to songs of the more classic-persuasion, like "Stardust" and "The Way You Look Tonight". And they were good. It was lovely.

Anyway, so it was a very nice evening. I'm happy that I've made a friend, and I'm happy that I have talented musicians living in the building. I'll have to make more late-night trips to the basement and see if they do that every night.

Also! I signed up for the swing dancing club here on campus. Booyah.

And now I'm going to bed. I didn't do any homework today, aside from a few pages of The Odyssey. So tomorrow will be properly busy. Yay for being busy! Goodnight, folks.

A new start

Well. Now that I've been officially living on campus for a week, it's probably a good time to write an update. I'm not really sure where to start - how do you catch up on writing about a whole week in a new state?

I hit my head on a towel dispenser in the bathroom today - I'll tell you that now to get it out of the way. I didn't bleed, but I've got a nasty bump. Yeah. Also, yesterday I was trying to escape the cafeteria after eating my first meal alone, and I was stuck at the doors for about 30 seconds wondering why they'd locked us in. Yep - you guessed it. Push, not pull. First time that's happened to me. Oh! And while I'm making confessions, I haven't been able to check my mailbox because you have to know how to work a combination lock to get in. And though I've got my combination number memorized, I've yet to successfully work the lock. So yes, I'm stating those humbling facts here and now at the beginning. I feel that that is a fitting way to start the long recounting of the college experience.

The campus itself is incredible. I love every building; they're all so unique and beautiful in their own ways. Everything is either brick or white stone of some sort - and there are trees and benches and lamp posts everywhere! It's such a stately-looking place, but it's quaint enough, too, to feel like a home. Today after a long day of classes, I grabbed a thermos of coffee and a few books and walked around campus to find a quiet place to sit. I wanted to be alone, but I didn't want to hide up in my room like a hermit - I've been doing that enough this week. (And I'm doing it right now... heh. Well, none of us is perfect, right?) I eventually found a sloping lawn on the outskirts of campus, next to my favorite building (the most aesthetically-beautiful, and as luck would have it, where most of my English classes will be). The lawn is full of trees and benches, and they're all far enough apart to give complete privacy to people who go there. So I sat on two benches (feet up!) and read Salinger and wrote Kate (we'll see if I can find an envelope and a stamp around here...) for a few hours. Every once in a while some students would walk past me, down the hill, or a train would go by and I'd count the cars. And there were two squirrels that I would watch with frequency. It was the most peaceful I've felt all week, and it made me so happy. I've found a sanctuary.

Some of you are probably stuck on the fact that I just referred to myself as a hiding hermit. Don't worry, I'm not being antisocial. Well, not really. I just haven't really found a good fit for myself yet, social-scene-wise. I've met a lot of people, but not that many that I've really clicked with. Sometimes that gets kind of discouraging (walking into the caf and not seeing anyone I know, for example, and thus sitting alone with a book), but I also am aware that it's only been a week. I don't really make friendships quickly - I know that about myself. I like relationships with substance. Things will look up soon, though, I hope... I'm definitely not a natural extrovert, but I'm trying. :) I actually have much better luck talking to people in my classes than during free-time. Classes, by the way, are pretty great so far. The first day of French terrified me, due to a "no English" rule that the professor enforces... but today's class was much better. The professor is pretty good at knowing when he needs to translate something into English; this translation usually comes after he's made direct eye-contact with me. ;) My Literature class is so much fun - it's completely made up of class discussion. We're reading the Odyssey, and all we have to do so far (aside from read it) is keep a list of questions or interesting observations as we read. Then we get to class, take out our papers, and bring up whatever we want to talk about. It's fabulous. My Bible class is, unfortunately, the most difficult to pay attention to. It's my last one of the day, it's in mid-afternoon, it's a lecture class, and the classroom is hot. My brain kind of checks out halfway through. But we have a lot of good reading material, so at least I've got that. My Intro to Theater class, however, might be my favorite. We've only had one class period, but I just have a really good feeling about that one. I don't really know how to describe what that feeling is, but I do know that the professor seems really cool, and that was the only class period where I felt completely present the whole time. Even after just two hours, I felt like I'd learned a lot about people and myself, especially. Theater has a way of doing that. It's awesome.

Speaking of theater, I officially declared it as my minor. I also officially declared a writing concentration. Shoot - should I have done "creative writing"? Agh. I meant to check that before I turned it in.

What else? I've started to drink my coffee black. I have a small 4-cup coffee pot and I make one every day, and usually finish it throughout the day. So I'm cutting back considerably from my normal amount, back at home. I think that's mostly because the microwave is 4 floors down, though - and when I'm studying and want a cup of coffee, I rarely feel like making the trek all the way down.

I'm tired. I think I'm going to try to get a lot of sleep tonight - tomorrow is Saturday, and I have absolutely no plans. Oh, AND, we're supposed to have "monsoon weather" tomorrow. Apparently there was a hurricane in Texas? I didn't know that... but that apparently means that we're getting weird weather here. Today was incredibly hot and muggy; the air felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. It's been pleasant the rest of the time, but today was just... bleh. Anyway, the reason I bring the weather up is that it's supposed to rain torrentially tomorrow, so I can't go to my sanctuary and spend the day reading on a bench. It may be a good opportunity to get to know the library, though. Or figure out how to get into my mailbox. Probably that.

I'll try to write more regularly, now that I'm starting to get a sense of my schedule. The point is that things are going well here - so don't be worried, people who tend to worry about me. I'll find my place soon enough. For now, I'm content enough to have awkward introductory conversations with the midwestern folk, read my books, and rely on the fact that God is looking out for me. I miss my family and friends like crazy, by the way - but I rely, too, on the fact that God is looking out for you. I love you guys. I hope things are well in California. You should write me, by the way! I promise I'll figure out my mailbox, if you do. :)

Goodnight.

Bless Our House

The apartment that my brother and his wife live in is a wonderfully eclectic place. Between their bookshelves of classical literature and theology (including Western, Eastern, and nearly everything in between), the framed abstract photographic works of our sister, the Lewis Carroll quotes on their refrigerator (which, incidentally, are taped right next to the magazine picture of a very pouty monkey on a tree branch), the photographs of Prague and Venice and a watercolor of a fox's head, the 12-month calendar that my sister-in-law's little sister made (which has its own claims to creative fame, let me tell you), and the St. Brigid's cross that hangs above their front door, any observer who was let in would have to concede that the young Muellers are a people of varied tastes and interests. My favorite bit of decorative ingenuity, however, is the piece of paper that hangs above their bedroom door. My sister-in-law, Megan, took up embroidery some months ago and decided to stitch a hoop with lyrics from one of her favorite songs. (The song, by the way, is "Sadie" by Joanna Newsom. Newsom is an incredibly acquired taste; I'm still in the middle ground of only being able to take some of her songs. But "Sadie" is definitely one that I can listen to over and over again.) The lyrics, as they are intended to appear, are these:

"Bless our house and its heart so savage."

Until the hoop could be finished, though, Megan decided to write the lyrics on a piece of lined yellow notebook paper and tape it above the door. To make it a bit more creative, she replaced the word "heart" with the corresponding symbol. Aesthetically, it's a pleasing little piece of artwork; but if your eyes are like mine, they tend to skip over symbols and focus only on the printed words. Which means that when I walked into the apartment for the first time, I saw a sign above the door that read:

"Bless our house and it's so savage."

I assumed that this was a reference to something I didn't understand, and didn't ask any questions. Apparently I wasn't the only one who made this mistake. When the matter came to light, we all had a good laugh about it - what silliness, home being "so savage". That was a good six or seven months ago, though; and even though the embroidery piece is finished, that piece of paper is still taped above their bedroom door. It's odd, but when I think of little things about home that I'll miss, that sign is one of the first things to come to mind.

I'm leaving for school in Illinois on Thursday, and even though I've known that since April, somehow the fact just gets stranger every day. I know it's time for me to go somewhere new - and it probably has been for awhile - but I can't help feeling a little nauseous when I think about it. I've traveled before, plenty of times; I spent two months traveling Europe by myself, for heaven's sake. But every time I've gone somewhere, I've always come back. It's not that I'm worried about feeling homesick, mind; I adapt to new places surprisingly quickly, as long as I have enough to do. It's just that I've been realizing, bit by bit, that this really is the end of a chapter. Not even just a chapter - more like the end of one book in a series. Right now my whole family - my parents, my oldest sister and her husband and my baby niece, my brother and his wife, and my sister Kate (who is also my closest friend) - are all relatively close. Most of us live within fifteen minutes of each other. But once I leave, Kate is planning on moving, and Jon and Megan have been looking to move for some time. I don't think that we'll all live in the same town again - at least not for a long while. And as far as I know, I won't ever live at home again. The thing that kills me most is the fact that by the time I graduate, my niece will be three years old. It still freaks me out that she can stand on her own; when I come home and hear her talking, I might have a heart attack.

All of this is normal, I know. It just surprises me that I'd never thought of it in these exact terms before. I only thought of moving to a new place; I didn't think as much about the one I'd leave, and all the things here that I won't have there. And then, somehow, there's a bizarre part of me that feels like I've done all of this before. But that, I think, may be simply because I have vicariously survived college three times already. (The blessing and curse of being so close to one's older siblings.) Half the time I feel stressed and nervous because I've never lived in a different state than my family before; but for the other half, I feel like I'm simply following an all too familiar routine. Both halves, oddly enough, are equally exhausting.

How silly of me. They can't be exact halves, 50-50, because there is a third category. A smaller one, yes, but it's there nonetheless. So maybe it's 45-45-10. And that is the part of me that knows, absolutely and resolutely, that this is exactly where I'm meant to be. At the beginning. Despite whatever "old soul" complex I've developed as the youngest of four, I'm only nineteen. I'm heading into the years that most everyone looks back upon with fondness. The stretching and molding and eventually definitive years. "Home" will still mean the Southern California house where my parents live - for awhile. After that, I'm not sure where the word will refer to, but I'll find out eventually. And really, that's what makes the search exciting, isn't it?

I've never tried my hand at embroidery, but I do like the idea of hanging a hoop of my own above a door someplace. Probably something equally obscure (especially if words are lost in symbol-translation), and, hopefully, someplace equally and lovingly savage.

Here's to the search.