oddly enough

It is the last day of 2007. A fairly ordinary year, I'd say.

During the course of the year I....

- finished freshman year in one piece.
- got roped into being an emotional, sideburn be-decked Spanish dude for a Shakespeare play.
- went to the mountains and rode bareback.
- finished half of sophomore year in one piece.
- drank coffee.
- watched my friends become engaged.
- watched my friends get married.
- watched my computer die.
- watched my cell phone die. Twice.
- read way too many fat books.
- ate lunch at Costco.

Let us mourn the passing of the year.

merry *cachoo* christmas *sniff, sniff*

And so it is Christmas. And I've been sneezing up a storm with the cold that thought about coming during finals and thankfully held off until I was safely on break.

Christmas break involves sleeping, being out with the horses, eating way too much, and going to parties where you run into people people who knew you when you were knee high to a grasshopper, know everything about you, and you have to pretend you know who they are and not let on that you are frantically searching your brain for their identity. Usually comes out ok, but every so often you leave a conversation still wondering who on earth that was. Perhaps a long lost relative.

Of course there is the unwrapping of the gifts. I think the funniest gift I got was the single cup coffee maker. (Subtle hint to stop spending all my money at Bucer's?) You may ask, so, why is that amusing? Because I'm the only major coffee drinker in our family, then contrast with the fact that once I swore that I would never drink the stuff. I hated even the smell of the the brown brew. NSA does strange things to a person.

And Christmas is also time for cutting hair. I love short hair, but I tried to grow mine out this past summer. I really, truly did. I told a friend to sit on me whenever I thought about cutting it and when I got a trim, it was a TRIM, one to just keep it looking nice. But alas. I couldn't keep it up. This break it came off - from longer than I've had it in three years to a short, layered bob that makes me very happy. Picture pending, perhaps.

i'm dreaming of a broooooown christmas

It tried snowing this afternoon, but since this is the Tri-Cities and we don't know what snow is around here, it confused itself and became sleet. My big plans for riding were null and void at that point, so I went home after cleaning my share of the stalls.

Being back home means getting to hang out at the barn nearly every day (when I'm not doing homework....) Happiness prevails quite muchly. So nice to be back in the saddle, breaking an honest sweat and getting physically tired out by something other than too much reading.

life without a laptop

Is a sad life indeed. Mine said "beezoop" and hasn't said anything since. Hopefully whatever went wrong can be remedied before going back to school. I need that thing! Gaaaa!

Update: Thankfully, though it said "beezoop" and tried to die, the laptop's problem has been mended. Thank. Goodness. I had a frightening picture of having to shell out non-existent dollars for a computer with Windows Vista that I didn't want but had to get out of sheer desperation. Not something I wanted on top of still feeling like I've been hit by a freight train named Finals.

once upon a time

I was a newly minted sophomore, wearing my robe for the first time, looking ahead with eager anticipation to long nights, packed days, tons of studying and being with fabulous people and great friends. I just rediscovered one of my favorite pictures from convocation:


Yours truly with Melissa Dow. We aren't newly minted anymore.

freedom........!

If you don't look at the pile of homework I have to do over break (our teachers don't know what "break" means - perhaps they should be supplied with dictionaries), I am now done with finals. Yes, ladies and gents, I am halfway through my sophomore year, reputably the toughest year at NSA. Rumor has it that life really doesn't get any easier, that we actually simply get used to the load, but still. I'm halfway through.

I love my robe.

finals, round two

I'm currently knee deep in finals. More like neck deep, but let's stay positive, shall we? My robe is ready and waiting for History this afternoon. There is something out of the ordinary about taking an oral final wearing a long black robe. It lends an aura of scholarlyness, it makes you think that you SHOULD REALLY KNOW THIS STUFF and if you don't, you'll study your tail off so that you will. I think that's why they gave them to us.....

geek out

Last week I completely geeked out and became the stereotypical NSA student. I had four major deadlines so I put on my SCUBA gear and dove in, not coming up for real air until everything was finished. This required the complete lack of any social life and and functioning on 5 - 6 hours of sleep a night, a real doozy for me, a true sleep enthusiast.

Despite the lack of sleep, that was one amazing week. I finished stage 2 of a three part completely fascinating hermeneutics project on the book of Ruth for Theology, wrote a Theology presentation on an article decrying the patriarchal implications of the traditional views of Christology, wrote a History oral presentation about Sulla, an influential Roman dictator, as well as editing and polishing the History term paper. And I loved every second of every crammed minute.

To finish off an amazing week was an amazing Thursday voice lesson, possibly the best I've had so far. Which was a touch sad considering the next evening I crashed. The entire weekend I slept. And slept. And slept. This week has been me trying to recover from last week. Thank goodness for music: today's voice lesson had Bray wondering what happened to last week. It went well, but I was fogged over and loopy. By the end however I was slowly emerging from my stupor and now I'm back at the books with a vengeance.

My roommate once again has to deal with my renewed enthusiasm. "This is sooooo cool. Did you know that Alexander the Great was deterred from sacking Jerusalem when he heard about Daniel's prophecy foreshadowing his campaigns?" "Ewww..... this battle had so many casualties that the river was dammed with bodies and the water was red with blood." "Hmmm. I think I may have discovered how that chiasm in Ruth works - check out this typology....."

powered by bucer's

Starbucks has sweet graphic design but if you want truly good coffee, look beyond the green aprons there and get thee to Bucer's. Have someone wearing a black apron make you your elixir of wakefulness.

After only managing to get through half of a Starbucks mocha while at home over Thanksgiving break, it was pure home sweet home to get my hands on the Bucer's mocha I have sitting by my laptop at the moment. Or at least the cup that it was in. The coffee inside is long gone now. It's gone, the paper is written and I am on to other things.

snowflakes keep falling on my head

Which says it all. Big, fluffy, fat flakes as thick as feathers after a pillow fight. Before Thanksgiving. Welcome Winter. And long wet tramps in the snow, complete with snowballs, letters from the dean advising against throwing them on Main St. and sledding.

It's been a busy weekend, catching up on all the movie watching that I've been getting behind on this term. Four in three days. Not bad. Just got back from watching "Sweeny Todd" (soon to be on the silver screen starring Johnny Depp) with several musical theater freaks. It was highly satisfactory, and yes, I did shriek at the climax. So I get a little absorbed.... The oddest side effect of the evening was finding my subsequent thoughts coming to me in song instead of your usual monotonal mutterings. Sadly I've been mildly sick, making my audible singing somewhat problematic. This, too, shall pass.

i voted. again.

Because once is not enough. Lest you think otherwise, I am not the scoundrel who would stoop to voting early and often - this time around it was for a school levy, a simple yes or no. And I saw a horse on the way out - a lovey equine which I could not touch, alas. And so I sighed and went home.

It finally got cold. Really cold. Like really, really cold. Like I could see my breath all day cold. But that was alright because I found a wad of cash on the ground walking home from UI. A princely sum of $9.

It's almost Thanksgiving. Fancy that.

*yawn* *blink* *tiredness*

One more week down. And we are all beat. Midterms were this week - Math went pretty well, methinks. My history paper is nearly done, just got the peer reviews back. One sweet thing about my paper is that I used a book that was published in 1907 and I'm pretty sure that I was the first person to ever read it.

Voice continues to be pretty sweet. Definitely the highlight of the week.

I'm tired. It's barely past 8:30 but I am calling it quits.

i voted

But somehow I lost my "I Voted" sticker. *sigh* So now nobody will know that I performed my civic duty at the polls.

Back to the books.

"my brain is frozen"

Quoth Laura P. as we all huddled in Latin, wondering quidnam ("why the heck") the A/C was still running at the very tail end of October. Apparently to keep us alert.

Sophomore year is all encompassing. We live, eat, breathe, sleep NSA. I drifted into the sweet escape of sleep the other night trying to solve one of Euclid's theorems, turning it this way and that, perhaps this method would work, maybe that one.... I don't remember actually falling asleep, just waking up the next morning, the proof still unsolved. We crack jokes that only students of Thucydides would understand - and we laugh. An announcement of the goal of writing 2,000 words in one night brings not questions of sanity but sober head nodding and "hmmm. good idea. I should get on that myself."

"Don't panic - and pray for us sophomores" is the constant mantra in our heads as we work our way through this swirling dust cloud of academia. I've forgotten what tired means. I have this insane desire to take on the world when I'm fully awake - maybe because it feels like I've been given super powers. We are too far gone to differentiate between the feeling of panic and the feeling of normalcy.

We are flying. We are Sophomores.

today's declamation (concert day, baby)

To be sung to the tune of "Let it Be"

When I find myself in times of trouble
Mr. Schlect, he speaks to me
in those office hours, let it be.
And in my hour of darkness
He is sitting right in front of me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

Let it be, let it be.
Let it be, let it be.
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

And when the broken hearted students
Striving in this school agree,
There will be an answer, let it be.
For though they may be weary there is still
a chance that they will see
There will be an answer, let it be.

Let it be, let it be.
Let it be, let it be.
There will be an answer, wait and see.

Let it be, let it be.
Let it be, let it be.
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

And when the night is passing,
There is still that paper waiting.
Work until tomorrow, let it be.
I think about the words of wisdom,
Mr. Schelct, he said to me
if your outline’s perfect, let it be.

Let it be, let it be.
Let it be, yeah let it be.
There will be an answer, let it be.

Let it be, let it be.
Let it be, yeah let it be.
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

and into week two

Last week felt like it lasted a month. It ended with the Reformation banquet and the giving out of the grades, a momentous event greeted with great cheer or weeping, depending on how well you studied for finals.... I did fine.

The highlight of the event was my thrift store find: the red formal I've been searching for since forever. And, much to my joy, it was for mere pennies. Mrs. Menadier, aka the Wizard, did some alterations and then twisted up my hair. Below is the result (taken by local paparazzi, hence my bemused expression).

The dress was floor length, solid wine red. Very lovely, if I do say so myself. I love red. It makes me happy.

to be perfectly blunt

Sophomore year is hard. Really hard. If this is only week one, what on earth is week six going to feel like?

Dead girl walking.

break? what break?

Apparently there was a break recently because we have found ourselves saying "last year" when we actually mean "last term," which makes me think there must have been some duration of time in which homework was not altogether mandatory. But I haven't completely noticed - the comfortable, hectic routine rolls on.

This term promises great things; the classes just keep getting better, and when getting my grades back I'm finding that they are pretty much all over the map, from a stellar History final (Mr. Schlect's words, not mine) to a so, so Latin final (but I passed - the grade was decent, that's what counts). Sweetness prevails.

It's raining. A lot. Bring an umbrella when you step outside to admire the simple gorgeousness that is Moscow right now.

i know kung fu

What does the average NSA student do on break? Quite frankly, I have no idea. But I know what this one did:

Sleep.
Sleep.
Go winter clothes shopping.
Go to the barn.
Clean stalls.
Ride.
Sleep.
History homework.
Make cheesecake.
Eat said cheesecake (and behold, it was good).
Ride.
Ride. Get hot, dirty, sweaty and beautiful. The horses don't mind.
Sleep.
Clean more stalls and call it a day.

Overall it was a lovely week. A blur, but a satisfactory one, in which I rode nearly every day, and soaked up the essence of dressage as much as possible. Equito ergo sum (I ride, therefore I am). I've been spoiled, I admit, getting to work around horses worth $20,000+. We had one come through while I was there this week who as a four year old imported from Germany was worth $50,000, but now is "dirt cheap" at $17, 500 (due to stifle surgery in his past and a subsequent hitch in his gait that should eventually go away with work). We all sat and drooled at his gorgeousness and talent. Now that is a sport horse. I want one. Pretty please?

Once back in Moscow, I watched The Matrix for the first time and decided that it would be ever so convenient to be able to download our classes into our brains like they can download kung fu. Like so:

*twitch, twitch* *Blink*
"I know Herodotus."

brothers are strange creatures

I walk in the door and everything appears normal. My backpacks by the couch getting the sniff over from Kirby, Mom's Corgi, and after all the "welcome homes" I plop my tired self on the couch and proceed to get weirded out. Derek walks up the stairs, or rather, he unfolds himself up the stairs. I think he grew about six inches since I've seen him last, and the first thing he does is to see if he's taller than me yet - by Thanksgiving I'll be looking up. To my little brother. *sigh*

Kurt has discovered Star Wars, going around the house talking about Obe Wan Kenobe, Anakin, and all the other names I'm not even going to try to spell, like he's known them all his life. His Lego AT-AT is getting more sophisticated by the minute, and when he's not doing homework he's pouring over the Lego catalog, admiring Star Cruisers, the dreamy look in his eyes getting dreamier as the pages turn.

The family room has become headquarters to the Brickmasters, the local Lego League - robotics, computers, science, Derek's area of expertise. Who needs to buy a surround sound system when you can make your own? I was more or less jerked awake Saturday morning by the sweet sounds of Lord of the Dance music in my ear and hysterical laughter in the other room. Derek rigged up his boom box to play in both rooms. You splice the wires and things. Simple.

Sunday evening after church they start doing gymnastics over the front lawn - and I, who was previously proud that I can still do a neat cartwheel, am now ashamed. They look like pros. Nine hours a week in the gym will do that, I suppose.

I'll go read Thucydides or something. Make myself look smart.

one year ago

I was one fourth of the way through with my freshman year. Now I am one fourth of the year through my sophomore year. *throws arms in the air and spins in dizzy circles*

Finals are completely done for me. Now I have a disaster area of a room to clean, papers to sort, things to get ready for next term, not to mention Broadway music to listen to.

Fun class pictures this year and last:

Yours truly and Lindsey Whear, robed, nerdy and crazy sophomores

Brittany Petruzzi, me and Rachel, all innocent freshmen (I can't remember what we were all laughing at - maybe just because we were so clueless about what was about to befall us....)

vos moriturus, saluto

Quoth Magister Griffithius. Reminiscent of last year, when Melissa and I greeted Magistra Natali with Nos moriturus, te salutamus. (Translation: "You who are about to die, I salute you." "We who are about to die, salute you")

Yes, it is finals week. Insecure sophomores wander through the halls, their black robes billowing out behind them, muttering something that sounds vaguely like "Shalmanesar III - did - something. Battle. Qarquar. 845? No, 853? Mardonius, important."

I down a mocha, run through my outlines, how to sum up the Ionian Revolt and Greco-Persian wars in 200 seconds or less? Math oral and written was yesterday, I'm pretty sure I know whether or not numbers exist - or who thinks they don't, at any rate. And what love is. Just ask David Dalbey. I sat in on his public final yesterday morning, and that was what he had to reveal to us.

History final goes well, despite the pacing done while waiting. Change, run to UI for voice. Bray's on a roll; it's all work, no play. Only I'm learning stuff that I've been wanting to learn forever, so I'm having a great time, and don't realize how much time has passed until suddenly I realize "I'm ready to be done." Bray looks at me a bit askance and makes the observation that by the time I'm done with finals I'm going to be totally wiped.

Latin exam: Best left untouched. I passed. I think.

I'm not studying tonight. I'm curling up with my laptop and watching a movie.

madame butterfly

If you want to hear me squeal like a little girl, just call me up and ask me if I want to go to see an opera in 15 minutes. Robin bought an extra ticket because she just knew that someone wanted to go, she just wasn't sure who it was. That would be me. It was lovely. Madame Butterfly, a tragic masterpiece, they called it. I was interested for the first hour, intrigued the second hour, and mesmerised for the rest. They sing, I squeak. Boy, do I have a lot to learn.

My picture uploading is being a bit strange at the moment. Judging from the jumble of html I'm seeing right now, there are three pictures.
Picture with four girls: Ashley, yours truly, my roommate Kate, Stacey
Guess the rest.

life continuing

And so life rolls on, leaving my flattened self dazed and wondering "what the hey?!"

It's not that bad. After two history study groups today, a thankful slight respite in Latin homework, and the completion (all but for footnotes and bibliography) of a history paper, things are slowly becoming a bit more focused. I now simply have to go over my notes for my four classes, know my Assyrian kings and the dates that go with them, write a Theology worksheet/paper and etc. and I'm good to go.

Coffee has gone from a treat to something that beckons the arrival of a wrinkled nose as the eyelids demand an artificial prop. The taste-buds, quite astounded, ask "again?" and the brain, tired of resembling Kansas after a tornado, throws up its hands and with the grace of a Stoic declares "anything goes." The debit card squawks in futile protest as it slides its way across the counter and is swiped. There is coffee in my hands. I am content.

Finals are upon us. Break is coming.

quiet, lazy sort of day

After sleeping in until 10 (lack of sleep calls for desperate measures), I've pretty much decided that the whole of Moscow is half asleep today. It's a bit overcast, not warm but not chilly either, the sort of day when you're not quite sure whether to wear a sweater or short sleeves. I went with the sweater with the sleeves pushed up.

I'm currently at Bucer's, hoping the change of scene will get me into a studying sort of mood. I've never seen Bucer's packed like today but at the same time so insanely quiet. *laugh* Like a library only with coffee.

sweet declamation

Our last assignment for Declamation this term was to write in the style of Dr. Seuss. I took his commencent speech for exiting college students (Oh! The Places You'll Go!) and turned it into a convocation speech for incoming NSA students.


Congratulations!
You’re at NSA,
You have books in your hands
That you’ll study all day

You have pulled on your best,
You have done up your hair,
You’re ready to tackle
That big world out there.
Your wallets are empty, all spent on big books,
But the pain is well worth it, by your friends’ freaked out looks.

The teachers are tough and the classes are great
You’ll make some sweet friends and will stay up too late.
With your backpacks all loaded and your laptops prepared,
You will write three fast papers on a weird coffee dare.

The Latin, the French and the smattering of Greek,
You’ll be quite content in the world of the Geek.
We juggle thick books as a matter of play
And have a hard time knowing night from the day.

The freshmen, they smile
Unaware all the while,
Of the workload that’s coming
For now they’re still humming.

Oh!
The books that you’ll read!

You’ll be talking with masters!
You’ll be reading great writers!
You’ll be up with your flashlight
When you pull those all nighters.

For not all is easy,
Nor simple as pie,
No sleep makes you queasy
You’ll just want to die.

The teachers, they smirk as they pile on the work,
And you’ll groan with your classmates and go quite bezerk.
But they say that you’ll make it, those who’ve passed through,
They give the thumbs up and say “So will you.”

So welcome to Andrews, the St. of this school,
And believe me, my friend, we’re really quite cool.

i love tuesday

Aieeee! I'm drowning in homework. Yet I'm sitting here blogging away instead of getting on with it. Shame upon my head.

Bray moved me from medium low voice to medium high today; apparently Mr. Regan was correct when he put me at first soprano for choir. As of today I have a completely sweet Broadway piece from The Scarlet Pimpernel to learn, as well as two in Italian. Did I mention I'm completely falling in love with this whole voice thing? I did? Oh. Well I am.

Music makes me happy.

And so does Kristina's blog. My sister the vet tech. Once Lindsey and I moved out and she didn't have an handy audience for her gruesome work stories, she started her own blog. So now she can illustrate her gruesome stories with equally gruesome pictures. And have you laughing the whole time. She has talent. She should write a book.

a day in the life

Time: 8:30 am
Scene: Our room. Kate is getting ready to leave to the freshman brunch. I am essentially unconcisous.

Kate: Brilliant observation. You are really tired.

Me: ...... zzzmm

the sophomore plunge

This is me.

This is me happily walking to the end of the diving board, cracking my knuckles, gazing innocently at the sparkling water below and, with great anticipation, leaping.

This is me sailing down through the air, thinking "what is so hard about this? This isn't bad - in fact, it's rather easy."

This is me hitting the water, realizing too late that I jumped off the high-dive. Now I'm sputtering, splashing, in pain and I have water up my nose.

This is me learning how to swim.

can life get sweeter?

I'm sure it can, but right now I'm pretty happy. I can't truthfully say that I have a handle on being a sophomore yet but I'm learning how to study.

Today is Tuesday. Which means:

1:00 am - Wrap up the studying, pack backpack for the morning, hopefully turn out the lights at 1:30.

6:00 am - Groggily roll out of bed order to have to enough time to tame my hair, eat something decent and make the 30-35 min walk to school.

7:30 - 9:30 am - Theology. Which is sweet. I never realized just how much fun Dr. Leithart is. He seems quiet and he is quiet, but nobody ever said that just because you're quiet means that you can't have a sense of humor. We're learning about Hermeneutics right now, which at this point in our studies is how to read the Bible while taking lexical and literary context into account. Really fascinating. We got our first assignment back this morning and I was very pleased to see I did well.

10:30 - 12:00 - Latin. Mr. Griffith reminds me of a friendly lion. He makes me enjoy Latin which is a first. Last year Latin was torture. I got through it fine but it was agony, the last thing I would do and I would snarl at Wheelocks while I did it. This year it is hard. Really, really hard. But it's fun. We're learning via immersion rather than brute grammar and memorization which is how I learned Spanish. My brain understands it better this way. Although I'm still pretty rotten at the language, I don't dislike it anymore.

1:45 - 2:45 - Voice. The highlight of my week. I'm taking lessons over at University of Idaho from Bray Wilkins, who is by far is the best of the three teachers I've had to this point. I'm so incredibly falling in love with music even more than I thought I already was; it makes me want to spin around in circles. See the stars in my eyes? That's because I just learned I can sing. And sound good while doing it.

The rest of the day: Homework. A lot of it. Wish me luck.

another week done, another to go

Another week is over. And another one starts tomorrow bright and early. Latin, History, Theology and History are calling my name. A mug with a trace of now cold coffee is sitting on my dresser, a testimony of last night's scholarly endeavors. Starting at around 7pm, I managed to read Herodotus, a chapter of "Writing Ancient History" and a chapter of Latin. Can't say I understood the Latin at 1:00 am. *cough*

Rachel and I spent Saturday morning and part of the afternoon doing a research/scavenger hunt in the UI library; we used microfilm for the first time, which was an adventure. You should check it out. It's actually quite amazing.

I've added something to the list of things to do before I die:
Learn how to fence.

Sunday is sweet.

you never know

What does it mean when you are feeling slightly blue and happy at the same time? A touch bummed but ready to go out and, if not conquer the world, at least make it known that you would if you had the manpower to back you up? I'd like to sit and have a pity party but I can't, I'm in too good of a mood.

the basket weaver - a fable

The diplomas were distributed, the tassels moved with great solemnity from one side of the caps to the other, and soon, as is inevitable in these cases, came the question. That question that requires great and heavy hours of pondering in order to give a satisfactory reply,

“So what is your major going to be?”

The young lads of the tiny kingdom of which our tale tells chose from many important majors, such as Dragon Slaying with a minor in Princess Rescuing, and Castle Architecture with an emphasis in high unreachable towers. The maidens chose wisely as well, veering off into fields including portraiture, weaving straw into gold, and fashion design.

Margo didn’t have to put much thought into her choice. When asked, she would give a quiet smile and reply simply “Basket weaving.” When the people of her village attempted to persuade her otherwise, she would nod and say “perhaps you are right. We shall see.” For Margo was wise. She knew that her skills were valuable and that basket weaving was a noble trade.

Three years passed. Margo and her classmates studied hard. Their heads were crammed full of knowledge and the tiny kingdom prospered. Margo’s baskets became unparalleled works of art, selling faster than she could weave them. But all was not well. The kingdom to the south gained a new king who had long wished to crush Margo’s homeland under his rule.

Before anyone knew what was happening, the city was under siege. Daily life ground to a halt. Classes were canceled. Would-be Dragonslayers were left without essential classes; architects knew they would be unable to design secure towers without further training. But Margo wove on.

She made a habit of sitting just outside the city gates while she wove and soon attracted the attention of one of the enemy guards. He admired her work and soon offered to buy several of her baskets. Margo agreed and soon she was selling them to him on a regular basis, knowing full well that he was re-selling them for far more than he paid her.

Her classmates were horrified. That she was a basket weaver was bad enough. But that Margo was selling her work to the enemy was far worse. But she would not stop; she wove on and sold on, a smile playing around her lips as she bent over her work.

A month, then two rolled by. The city’s resistance was beginning to crack. Margo picked up the odd habit of pacing along the tops of the city walls, peering off into the distance, looking for who knew what.

Then they came: the neighbors to the West who had heard the cry for help and had come as soon as they were able to muster their forces. After a fierce and terrible battle, the enemy was vanquished. During the subsequent feast of celebration the King asked how the army had come to know of their plight as they had been unable to send out any messages. The commanding general gave him a surprised look and held up one of Margo’s baskets. Woven in the design, in a way known to the Western kingdom, was a cry for aid.

Moral: When someone says they are majoring in basket weaving, don’t laugh.

my latin teacher is cooler than your latin teacher

Mr. Griffith is the greatest language teacher I've had. Even though he's a very hard grader (I'm feeling it pretty badly), he makes class so much fun. I feel like Latin is a lot more coherent than last year.

Last class was brutal and the homework load was insane. Mr. Griffith admitted it was inhumane and unethical but assigned it anyway. "You think that was bad? It just gets worse." And groans rippled through the tired masses slumped over Lengua Latinae. But he had mercy. I found this note in my inbox this evening (after, of course, I had already done a ton of the homework assigned previously....):

"Discipuli omnes,

Discipuli non laeti sunt, nam exercitia eorum nimis magna et longa sunt. Discipuli plorant; Magister imperat: "Facite exercitia!" Discipuli rursus plorant. Magister oculos ad caelum vertit et cum magna voce spirat et dicit. "Fu, o improbi discipuli!" Sed magister non vult discipulos esse mortuos; ergo, discipulis responsa dat et multa exercitia removet.

Ex Capitulo X: Facite Exercitia II, IV, V, VI, VIII, X tantum.

Ex Capitulo XI: Facite Exercitia III, VII, XI tantum.

Valete."

latte goodness

I went to Bucer's after Math today for an iced Irish Creme latte to waken my sleepy eyes while doing history reading. It was lovely. Bucer's was very quiet for the most part, and the few people that stopped by to chat were welcome breaks.

Sophomore year is much more time intensive than freshman year was. Study groups are being set up, and I'm hoping our Math midterm will go well. Yes, first term is already almost half over. *faints* Amazing.

too much good food

The one thing I hate about Moscow is that there is always way too much insanely good food. I currently have what my wonderful ex-roommate Lindsey called a "food injury."

Ouch.

last week of work

If I kill someone tonight, it’s not my fault. I haven’t yet decided on a double homicide or the simpler, less messy route of suicide.

“You don’t need iced tea, you already have soy milk,” Margaret tells her husband in a tone used to being obeyed, her big floppy lips pursed in irritation. To call them horsy lips would have been an insult to the equine species.

“Do I have to move to another table to be waited on?” he responds imperialistically. I paste on a large smile and serve of the second beverage. The migraine pounding between my ears is hardly distracting as I juggle taking orders, serving drinks and bussing dirty dishes.

Payton blames the heat; the 100 degree sun pouring through the windows seems to back her up.

Working my way down the row of tables, hurrying back and forth with my tray loaded with food. Tonight we are having a lovely eggplant stack with a small salad and garlic bread. Bursts of disgusted laughter. “What are the alternates?” Back in the kitchen: a half order, a BBQ chicken and a slice of wheat bread with peanut butter and jam. No wait, I’m forgetting something. I lean tiredly against my tray and search my brain. Is eating all anyone ever does? Chad waits with a grin on his scruffy blond face. “A baked potato,” I burst out.

“That’s it?”

I nod, take the potato and head back to the table.

Thank goodness for Chet and Lou. While I clear their dishes, Lou cheerfully tells me how she prepared eggplant when she had her own kitchen. “I prefer it fried, but I like it most any way. My daughter plants it every summer so we get a lot of it.”

Bringing in the dirty dishes, balancing plate on top of plate, shoving the food to one side, silverware to another, unload in the kitchen. The resounding crash of dishes cascading to the floor is strangely satisfying, despite the Oh my gosh, oh my word, oh blast that pours forcefully from my startled mouth. I didn’t even see it happening, but there is now a pile of shattered dishes at my feet. Thank goodness none of the managers were around.

“I don’t feel so terrible now,” Georgia confides as we clean up the shards of plate. Guess I’m not the only smasher of dishes on the premises.

“You want to do desserts while I bus?” Taylor asks. Rather.

What do you have? I can’t hear you. Banana pudding? Goodness, if there is banana, you can’t taste it – there’s only custard. What else? I can’t hear you. Oh I guess I’ll take the banana cake. I have to have something to satisfy my hunger.

I serve the rest of the table, after verifying No Cookies. No wait. Change of mind. I don’t even bother trying to smile while placing the plate of cookies by her banana cake.

“Gosh, she’s so rude,” Payton looks haggard, and we exchange looks of deep self-pity. “Can you work supper for me tomorrow?” she pleads. “I have to baby sit my nephew.”

Sunday evening? Oh man. There goes my sleep. And my two weeks notice didn’t get communicated to Susan. How on earth can I work next weekend when I’m in Idaho? The joys of having five bosses. And no one seems to be available to fill in.

“Ok, we get to fight over who gets to ask Christi to fill in for next Sunday,” I ponder the schedule.

“Dibs on Christi – you try McKay. No, wait, she’s Mormon and can’t work Sunday.”

“I’ll try Kalpana. Which would make her work seven days in a row.” My headache threatens to pound harder. I’ll figure something out. Or leave it for Monica or Tom to figure out. It’s not my fault that this mix-up happened.

Finally it is time to head home. Glancing at the gas gauge, I slide behind the wheel of my car. The needle is resting on E.

never buy cheap notebook paper

Because it will die on day five of class. 'Tis a tragic thing.

Despite a dead computer (yay for little brothers who send working parts!) and not so great notebook paper, life is going well. I'm currently at Kristina's apartment getting ready to write up a theology presentation. It's like old times, curled up in the white armchair with a cat trying to get my attention in any way possible.

New St. Andrews is a jaw dropping amazing place to be, 1:30 am bedtimes aside. (and this is before any major assignments. Ouch)

summer? what summer?

School has started. Started with a vengeance.

*dies*

But really, the things we are working on so far has been quite interesting. The trick is to convince my brain to just sit down and focus.

Our last roommate has arrived, and we are now a full house. And my room is a disaster area.

It's raining outside. Next to saddle leather and coffee, the smell of the air after rain is a favorite.

sisters

Mom had some photos left on her camera, Rachel was home and so we took some sweet pictures. This was by far my favorite. I think it was taken a week or two before coming back to Moscow.

Being back in Moscow has been absolutely amazing. Trinity Fest was, as always, great, this time being even better than normal due to getting to hear Dr. Field (who I highly admire), saying hello to friends and classmates who I haven't seen all summer, not to mention making some sweet new friends.

The new freshman class has been arriving in droves and so far I really like the ones I have met. My gut feeling that this year is going to be like none other is already coming to pass. My roommate, an incoming freshman named Kate Ligon, arrived yesterday, she seems really nice. Third roommate will arrive next week, and Stacey and I are already giving Matt a hard time about being surrounded by girls. *laugh*

This year is going to be - wow. *blink*

sweetness prevails

I just bought the vast majority of the books for first term and am pretty much drooling (which pretty much happens whenever I find myself in the company of a stack of new books).

Our new Latin teacher, Mr. Griffeth, is amazingly good at what he does. Even though it's mostly review right now, I find the Latin clicking much faster when taught via immersion. The only problem being that is how I learned Spanish so I am now speaking Spatin. (Spanish/Latin).

ye-ouch

I have decided that I intensely dislike computers. I just spent the vast majority of my evening figuring out my iPod and iTunes with some new study music for this fall. I think I'm pretty much set - I have everything from soothing to let's-get-moving and some mystery music that I'm not sure what it is for certain. But still, I could have been reading during the last few hours of getting to read what I want. Go figure.

Testing

Alright, gotta see how this thing works...