Monday, November 14, 2011
Urban Prophecies
Three posts in as many days! What is this madness?
Okay, so the truth is, I've been meaning to write this and the Tim O'Brian post for a while. So enjoy the unexpected windfall.
Now, about the video. It was made by my friend, Magillichetti, the one with the witty blog, and all his friends. (by the way, he's the male voice you hear, talking to the girl at the beginning) It's HILARIOUS. Watch it. Comment on it. Let him know you want more! DO EET. Please. You'll make his day. (and mine)
Sunday, November 13, 2011
For want of a key...
Yesterday I locked myself out of my room with nothing but nightshirt, towel, and shower supplies.
How did this happen, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. (and if you didn't ask you're going to be told anyway)
Saturdays tend to be my do-nothing-until-noon-and-then-maybe-do-something-but-probably-not days. So it was noon. My alarm went off. I had forgotten that I had TMU practice at 1:00. I hadn't even brushed my teeth by this point.
"Oh crap," I thought, "I have to hurry!"
I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but the showers in the Lodge are not in the bathroom. There are shower rooms with stalls that you use like a public restroom. But with showers.
I scrambled to gather my shower basket filled with things useful in a shower and a towel. Dashing into the hall, I spun around and shut my door firmly, tugging it to make sure it was locked. Before my hand left the handle I froze; my brain belatedly reminding me I needed my keys and that they were still on my table. Inside the room I had just vacated. Behind the door I had just made absolutely sure was locked.
Isn't it (not) funny how your brain remembers exactly what you need the second after it's too late to do anything about it?
Anyway, I walked up the hall to my dorm manager's room and knocked. No one was home. So I took a shower.
Afterwards, I went back to her door and knocked again. Again, no one was home.
I couldn't call because my phone was in my room. And who brings their phone into the shower with them?
I thought about asking my suite mate to go through our shared bathroom and open the door from the inside. But then I realized that the latch that kept anyone from walking into my room from the bathroom was still in place. Having no other ideas I sat in the hall next to my door. I sat there until my butt went numb. That was when I decided that Mrs. Gaia wasn't coming back anytime soon and if I was going to wait I would dang well be comfortable.
I moved to the chairs set up front. Unfortunately, now anyone waking into the Lodge would be greeted by my damp and undressed self. Fortunately, Saturday was a lazy day for everyone else who didn't work that day, too.
One girl who was passing by lent me her phone to call Mrs. Gaia. I got her voicemail. By now I had resigned myself to missing TMU as well as any respect Mr. Meyer and my dorm mates ever had for me. I brushed my hair and covered my legs with my towel.
After an unknown amount of time I realized Mrs. Gaia's office door was ajar and decided to sit in there. That way both I and anyone passing by would be spared the embarrassment of seeing me.
I sat in there for perhaps fifteen to thirty minutes before realizing that this wasn't going to work. It was dark and boring in her office and sleep threatened me with it's soft, fleshy arms. I could only imagine how awkward it would be if Mrs. Gaia returned to her office with me sprawled out on the floor. So I moved back out front.
A boy who lives in the lodge came out and sat with me. We made some small talk. Eventually he tried to pick my door using a credit card. It didn't work since my door was fit too tightly in it's frame. I thanked him for trying, at once disappointed and reassured that my door couldn't be picked by a mere credit card.
He asked whether my suite mate could let me in. I explained that my paranoia about my privacy and a handy latch prevented that from being an option. My blond-haired attempted savior told me that from what he knew of my suite mate, I was more likely to enter her room than she mine. I refrained from explaining that I also used the latch as part of my Zombie Survival Plan. Should the dorm be overrun by zombies and my suite mate and shared toilet compromised, that latch would be one of the few things I could rally in defense of my oh-so-delectable brain against the ravenous undead hordes.
During this conversation, another boy had been walking between his room and a friends. He asked about the credit card trick. When informed that it had failed he suggested calling Security. I explained I had no phone. The hat-wearing boy suggested using the other boy's phone or the phone I had not noticed that was attached to the wall behind me.
Thoroughly embarrassed, and sure that both boys had doubts about the amount of digits in my IQ number, I went over to the bulletin board on which Security's number was posted.
The Security man who came over was very amiable and understanding about the whole thing. I cannot heap enough praise on his head. I should make him a card...
By the time I was able to enter my room again, any dim hope I had of making it to TMU practice very, very late was extinguished.
But at least I could finally get dressed.
How did this happen, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. (and if you didn't ask you're going to be told anyway)
Saturdays tend to be my do-nothing-until-noon-and-then-maybe-do-something-but-probably-not days. So it was noon. My alarm went off. I had forgotten that I had TMU practice at 1:00. I hadn't even brushed my teeth by this point.
"Oh crap," I thought, "I have to hurry!"
I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but the showers in the Lodge are not in the bathroom. There are shower rooms with stalls that you use like a public restroom. But with showers.
I scrambled to gather my shower basket filled with things useful in a shower and a towel. Dashing into the hall, I spun around and shut my door firmly, tugging it to make sure it was locked. Before my hand left the handle I froze; my brain belatedly reminding me I needed my keys and that they were still on my table. Inside the room I had just vacated. Behind the door I had just made absolutely sure was locked.
Isn't it (not) funny how your brain remembers exactly what you need the second after it's too late to do anything about it?
Anyway, I walked up the hall to my dorm manager's room and knocked. No one was home. So I took a shower.
Afterwards, I went back to her door and knocked again. Again, no one was home.
I couldn't call because my phone was in my room. And who brings their phone into the shower with them?
I thought about asking my suite mate to go through our shared bathroom and open the door from the inside. But then I realized that the latch that kept anyone from walking into my room from the bathroom was still in place. Having no other ideas I sat in the hall next to my door. I sat there until my butt went numb. That was when I decided that Mrs. Gaia wasn't coming back anytime soon and if I was going to wait I would dang well be comfortable.
I moved to the chairs set up front. Unfortunately, now anyone waking into the Lodge would be greeted by my damp and undressed self. Fortunately, Saturday was a lazy day for everyone else who didn't work that day, too.
One girl who was passing by lent me her phone to call Mrs. Gaia. I got her voicemail. By now I had resigned myself to missing TMU as well as any respect Mr. Meyer and my dorm mates ever had for me. I brushed my hair and covered my legs with my towel.
After an unknown amount of time I realized Mrs. Gaia's office door was ajar and decided to sit in there. That way both I and anyone passing by would be spared the embarrassment of seeing me.
I sat in there for perhaps fifteen to thirty minutes before realizing that this wasn't going to work. It was dark and boring in her office and sleep threatened me with it's soft, fleshy arms. I could only imagine how awkward it would be if Mrs. Gaia returned to her office with me sprawled out on the floor. So I moved back out front.
A boy who lives in the lodge came out and sat with me. We made some small talk. Eventually he tried to pick my door using a credit card. It didn't work since my door was fit too tightly in it's frame. I thanked him for trying, at once disappointed and reassured that my door couldn't be picked by a mere credit card.
He asked whether my suite mate could let me in. I explained that my paranoia about my privacy and a handy latch prevented that from being an option. My blond-haired attempted savior told me that from what he knew of my suite mate, I was more likely to enter her room than she mine. I refrained from explaining that I also used the latch as part of my Zombie Survival Plan. Should the dorm be overrun by zombies and my suite mate and shared toilet compromised, that latch would be one of the few things I could rally in defense of my oh-so-delectable brain against the ravenous undead hordes.
During this conversation, another boy had been walking between his room and a friends. He asked about the credit card trick. When informed that it had failed he suggested calling Security. I explained I had no phone. The hat-wearing boy suggested using the other boy's phone or the phone I had not noticed that was attached to the wall behind me.
Thoroughly embarrassed, and sure that both boys had doubts about the amount of digits in my IQ number, I went over to the bulletin board on which Security's number was posted.
The Security man who came over was very amiable and understanding about the whole thing. I cannot heap enough praise on his head. I should make him a card...
By the time I was able to enter my room again, any dim hope I had of making it to TMU practice very, very late was extinguished.
But at least I could finally get dressed.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Tim O'Brian and Bus Ride Philosophy
Sorry for such a late entry for this week, folks. I just kind of forgot.
Anyway, last week I went to Wichita with a bus of friends and strangers. Why?
It was THE BIG READ (say it with feeling, people) and we were off to listen to a speaker. One Tim O'Brian, in fact. He writes war stories. The only work of his that I knew anything about was "The Things They Carried." I read a little excerpt and it seemed really interesting. Plus, this would be the first author I had ever seen in person. I was thrilled.
I was even more excited when I realized that two friends who I don't get to see as often as I like were coming too. I will call them "Grace" and "Rapunzel."
I didn't sit with them on our journey to our destination. I sat with another friend, whom I shall call "Glasses" until she tells me what she would prefer her alias to be. We talked about Philosophy class and writing and even a little bit about religion. I hope I didn't bore her too badly.
Once we arrived we sat in a nice auditorium that I recognized from one of my cousins' graduations. It's not often you see such a rich green carpet.
Anyway, we were given pamphlets and some cards to write our burning questions on. Unfortunately, I had no burning questions. I had no smoldering or even soggy questions. But the speaker wasn't able to get through even half the questions asked, so it worked out.
He was pretty good, but he was nothing like I imagined. He wore a baseball cap, for one thing. He talked a little about how truth can be subjective and that absolutism is a trap to avoid. There were other things he spoke about, but that sticks out in my memory.
My friends and I got some things signed and even got a picture with him! It was a new experience.
Afterwards, we were all quickly herded away into the bus. We went to get food, but the yogurt place one of the teachers had her heart set on was closed, so we went to Freddy's Frozen Custard. I thought it turned out nicely for me. However, as the bus driver had been navigating his way to the yogurt-serving shop, Grace and I had started an intense philosophical discussion on the nature of truth. It was inspired by Mr. O'Brian's statements earlier.
I had commented that it seemed like he thought some truths were subjective, but there was an ultimate truth if one looked deeply enough. And Grace, having taken Philosophy, jumped on that. She plays a fantastic Devil's Advocate, by the way.
As you probably guessed, dear reader, I felt like an utter fool for most of the conversation. I kept restating myself and struggled to explain my position. I knew what I meant, but getting it to where my listener could understand it was another thing altogether. I ended up confusing myself several times but Grace was very patient. It didn't help that the entire bus started listening to our conversation. Grace assures me I did well, but she's such a sweet soul, I think she would say that even if I sounded like a babbling moron. Anyway, we managed to wrap up our brain-bending conversation in over our frozen custard.
Ultimately, I ended up taking the stance that while there are subjective truths, there are also ultimate Truths out there. Whether anyone can find these ultimate Truths and if it's possible for everyone to arrive at these Truths, is something else entirely. However, the fact that I believe there are ultimate truths is a result of my subjective truths. So, yeah.
Then Grace started teaching me some Chinese and we talked about how Japanese and Chinese people use (mostly?) the same kanji, but different words. For example, the same kanji mean "one", "two", "three", etcetera in both languages, but the words spoken are different.
And then my Creative Writing teacher insisted that I take Journal Writing/Storytelling next semester. She is convinced I'd be great at it. We'll see, I guess.
All in all, it was a very enjoyable and educational trip.
Anyway, last week I went to Wichita with a bus of friends and strangers. Why?
It was THE BIG READ (say it with feeling, people) and we were off to listen to a speaker. One Tim O'Brian, in fact. He writes war stories. The only work of his that I knew anything about was "The Things They Carried." I read a little excerpt and it seemed really interesting. Plus, this would be the first author I had ever seen in person. I was thrilled.
I was even more excited when I realized that two friends who I don't get to see as often as I like were coming too. I will call them "Grace" and "Rapunzel."
I didn't sit with them on our journey to our destination. I sat with another friend, whom I shall call "Glasses" until she tells me what she would prefer her alias to be. We talked about Philosophy class and writing and even a little bit about religion. I hope I didn't bore her too badly.
Once we arrived we sat in a nice auditorium that I recognized from one of my cousins' graduations. It's not often you see such a rich green carpet.
Anyway, we were given pamphlets and some cards to write our burning questions on. Unfortunately, I had no burning questions. I had no smoldering or even soggy questions. But the speaker wasn't able to get through even half the questions asked, so it worked out.
He was pretty good, but he was nothing like I imagined. He wore a baseball cap, for one thing. He talked a little about how truth can be subjective and that absolutism is a trap to avoid. There were other things he spoke about, but that sticks out in my memory.
My friends and I got some things signed and even got a picture with him! It was a new experience.
 |
| Notice how he uncomfortably looks away from my disturbing visage. Also; left to right is Rapunzel, Grace, Tim O' Brian, and Myself. |
I had commented that it seemed like he thought some truths were subjective, but there was an ultimate truth if one looked deeply enough. And Grace, having taken Philosophy, jumped on that. She plays a fantastic Devil's Advocate, by the way.
As you probably guessed, dear reader, I felt like an utter fool for most of the conversation. I kept restating myself and struggled to explain my position. I knew what I meant, but getting it to where my listener could understand it was another thing altogether. I ended up confusing myself several times but Grace was very patient. It didn't help that the entire bus started listening to our conversation. Grace assures me I did well, but she's such a sweet soul, I think she would say that even if I sounded like a babbling moron. Anyway, we managed to wrap up our brain-bending conversation in over our frozen custard.
Ultimately, I ended up taking the stance that while there are subjective truths, there are also ultimate Truths out there. Whether anyone can find these ultimate Truths and if it's possible for everyone to arrive at these Truths, is something else entirely. However, the fact that I believe there are ultimate truths is a result of my subjective truths. So, yeah.
Then Grace started teaching me some Chinese and we talked about how Japanese and Chinese people use (mostly?) the same kanji, but different words. For example, the same kanji mean "one", "two", "three", etcetera in both languages, but the words spoken are different.
And then my Creative Writing teacher insisted that I take Journal Writing/Storytelling next semester. She is convinced I'd be great at it. We'll see, I guess.
All in all, it was a very enjoyable and educational trip.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Elephants in Paradise
(oh! and i managed to fix my blog's url. gimcracks is now spelled correctly. yay!)
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