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September 29, 2004
Heaven on Earth
Thanks for your thoughts on the previous entry. Amazingly, I don't disagree with any (either) of them. But specifically, here is what I think of Horowitz's statement that leftists think they are gods:
Most humans think they are gods. Studies show that most people think they are "above average." We think that if everything was done our way, the world would be a better place. We put too much faith in ourselves.
I vividly recall Horowitz stating that the world won't be perfect until the Messiah comes. Although he says he is an agnostic, it sounds like he retains at least a trace of his family's Jewish beliefs. I would just add "again" onto the end of his statement.
So what do we do with an imperfect world in the mean time? We try to mend the fabric temporarily. We do the best we can with what we are given. And we strive to create an image, albeit fuzzy, of the world to come. Leftists and conservatives simply disagree about the way to achieve this.
On the other hand, I agree with Horowitz's underlying sentiment, which is discontentment with idealism and frustration with those who espouse it. I too am an avid realist.
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Completely unrelated quote of the day, so don't try to tie it in:
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. -Romans 8:28
Posted by Megan at 09:08 PM | Comments (1)
September 28, 2004
Twelve Minutes
I like this one:
J.C. Hall
Twelve Minutes
The hearse comes up the road
With its funeral load
Sharp on the stroke of twelve.
I greet it myself,
Good-morning the head man
Who's brought the dead man.
I say we're four only
Still, he won't be lonely.
Being next of kin
I'm the first one in
Behind the bearers,
THe black mourning wearers.
(A quick thought appals:
What if one trips and falls?)
They lay him safely down,
The coffin a light brown.
Prayers begin. I sit
And let my mind admit
That screwed-down speechless thing
And how another spring
His spouse was carried here.
Now they're remarried here
And may be happier even
In the clean church of heaven.
We say the last amen,
A button's pressed and then
To canned funeral strains
His dear dead remains,
Eighty-four years gone by,
Sink with a whirring sign.
I tip and say goodbye.
I was the only one in the class who thought this was a particularly good poem. Others said it had a Dr. Seuss-like rhyme. That is one of the qualities I like. The utter simplicity of the rhyming couplet adds to the irony of the ritualistic funeral procession. I love it.
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Quote of the Day:
"What could be worse than dropping the casket?" asked a student.
"Dropping the casket, slipping, and falling into the grave," replied my prof, matter-of-factly.
Posted by Megan at 11:59 PM
Mankind's Saviors
I've mentioned David Horowitz before, but in case you missed it, he is one of my Conservative heroes. I have read most of his autobiography, Radical Son, and met him in person a few times. My friend Julie G. is also a big fan of his -- in fact, she probably was a fan before I was, and she's read more of his books, too. Julie was also my roommate last year, so after going to see him in the (Twin) Cities once, we were talking about what he had said. I mentioned that I would have liked to know how his Jewish faith had influenced his politics, if indeed they had. She must have remembered that discussion, because a few days ago she sent me this tidbit.
In case you're too lazy to click the link, a student asks Horowitz, "Can you enlighten me regarding your fundamental ethical and theological position and do you consider it relevant regarding your political posture?"
Horowitz replies, "All radicalisms are variations on the story of Babel. They are people trying to reach heaven (or build a heaven on earth) by human means. That is why they end in such misery and horror. Leftism is a form of idolatry in which human beings worship themselves as though they were gods and saviors.
I am an agnostic. I don't know whether God exists or not, but I do know that man is not God and that makes me a conservative."
I have thoughts on this, but I want you to generate some first, so make some comments, and I will tell you what I think at a later date.
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On a completely unrelated topic, the theme for my day today was, "How do I procrastinate? Let me count the ways." At one point, I was reading the IM profile of a friend from high school. She had a blog link, and I thought, "Sweet, I can waste at least 10 more minutes," and clicked it. Well, come to find out her Dad was found unconscious a few days ago after he went out for a jog, and they think he had a heart attack. He is now in a coma, and her blog is basically praising God for each small step of his progress. This made me feel like a big hunk of crap for complaining about anything at all on my blog. Therefore I do solemnly swear to be less of a whiner from now on.
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Just one more thought, I promise. What if I dyed my hair this color? Just curious.
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Quote of the Day:
"Kerry on Orange Alert" -Headline on Drudge Report, showing a picture of Kerry, who apparently has developed an addiction to the tan-in-a-bottle stuff.
Posted by Megan at 07:00 PM | Comments (3)
September 27, 2004
Timing is Everything
This past summer changed me in many ways, but I am finding one of them particularly difficult to admit. You see, when I am in Ames, I like to entertain this fantasy that the world of politics does not exist. I don't campaign. I don't even follow the news (cue audible gasps). And no one on the ISU campus looks at me with disgust as a result of my involvement with the most controversial student organization.
Now, here's the part I'm having a hard time dealing with: I relish it. I cherish pretending that the world of Bush and Kerry doesn't exist. Same for CNN and Fox News. I try my hardest to ignore it when my little protective bubble is broken by bumper stickers and lawn signs -- those very objects which I spend countless hours distributing in Minnesota.
For instance, I didn't check my e-mail from Friday afternoon until Sunday evening. When I finally caved, I had 37 new messages. Granted, about half were spam, but the other half were mostly about things I needed to take care of for CR. I read them all, but didn't do anything about them. When I got back on campus today, I had 21 new e-mails and a few phone messages. I reluctantly resumed the process of organizing meetings, writing agendas, arranging volunteers, scheduling hours, and reserving rooms.
Not only did I put off answering my e-mails, but I also noticed that I had a message on my cell phone last night. (I didn't have my phone with me at all times this weekend -- a strange occurrence in itself.) The message was from a CRNC field rep last night wanting to discuss Olaf's voter registration goals. I didn't return his call. He called again Monday morning as I was driving back up. I didn't answer my phone, and not until after listening to his second message did I decide to return his call.
What has become of me? A year ago, I wanted to work in Washington D.C. when I graduated, but now I dream of residing in Ames, IA. I couldn't get enough campaigning in the 2002 elections, but now I dread every moment to which I have committed myself. How on earth am I going to earn a living when I graduate when I just decided that life without my potential career field is a beautiful thing?
That's the thing about visits home... or pseudo-home as the case may be. It's just so hard to leave again. Which may be proven in the fact that somehow people (ALISA) talked me into spending an extra night. Well, I guess I have to take some of the blame. You see, I hadn't had a chance to catch up with everyone. Not only that, I had just finished saying hellos and hadn't gotten to say all of my good-byes. Maybe next time I'll just say them both at once.
...Okay, this is too darn ironic and just plain awful not to put on here. My next door neighbors are playing "All By Myself" right now...
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Quote of the Day: "_____ Septic: We haul American made products." Slogan on the back of a truck I passed this morning.
Posted by Megan at 08:48 PM | Comments (4)
September 22, 2004
Workin for the Weekend
I've been trying so very hard this week to keep up with my homework so that I can goof off this weekend. Circumstances, however, are working against me.
Last night I got a call on my cell phone around 10:30pm, just as I was winding down. It was a girl on the CR State Board:
"I need you to send me your membership list ASAP."
"Well, uh, heh, that might be a little later than sooner... you see, last year's list is on a semi-functional computer in the office, and this years new recruits haven't been typed up yet..."
"*silence*"
"When do you need it by?"
"Noon tomorrow at the very latest."
She's irritated, to say the least. I'm not exactly pleased myself. This was the first I'd heard of their need for a copy of our membership list, and I had less than 14 hours to compile it. Not to mention the fact that I had planned to sleep for the majority of those remaining hours.
But I had been trained for this in my internship this past summer... and the summer before. I pulled out the list of new recruits, opened Excel, pulled my keyboard down into my lap, propped my feet up on the back rung of my desk, and started my favorite task ever: data entry, baby!
I wrapped up the list around 1:00 AM. It was 3 columns and 350 rows. My vice-chair had several additional sheets with about 50 more new recruits. However, I had called him to fume after I took the call at 10:30 and woke him up, so I wasn't about to call him back. I sent the list in.
The next kink in my plan to get back on top of things came this afternoon. I work as a tutor in the Writing Place, meaning I sit in the basement of the library in a cubicle waiting for students to come in and ask for help with writing a paper for class. My first day of work was Monday, and not one student came in. I was warned previously by other tutors to not count on always having work time for homework. I didn't heed the warning.
Today I had two students come in, but English was a second language for one of them, and a third for the other. Thus, quite a bit of time and energy was expended on assisting them with their papers. I had the last half hour of my shift free, but I spent it slouched in my chair feeling exhausted and woefully inadequate as a teacher of the English language. Just try explaining to someone who didn't grow up speaking English why they don't need a comma one place but do need it in another, or why a certain verb tense needs to be used, or why the phrase should read "not exactly" instead of "no exact."
So here I am, with my body begging for sleep, needing to prepare for two classes and a meeting tomorrow, plus schedule volunteers for activities to appease various campaigns, elected officials, and other superiors, plus tell those volunteers where to be and when, plus write a note of thanks for a grant, plus purchase paper on which to write that note, plus be there for my friends when they need me, plus take care of myself.
Can it be done?
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Quote of the Day:
"September tries its best to have us forget summer." -Bern Williams
Posted by Megan at 09:56 PM | Comments (2)
September 21, 2004
Cake
Photography by Kristin.
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Quote of the Day:
"It has no audience. It's like a diary that you keep locked up in your room that only your parents or potentially violent boyfrield would be interested in." -Poetry Prof describing a bad poem, which was not written by anyone in our particular class (thankfully).
Posted by Megan at 07:18 PM | Comments (6)
September 20, 2004
I'm 22 for a Moment
What better day for reflection?
I didn't set my alarm to get up in time for church yesterday, because my cold was still getting the better of me. I did wake up when the sun started to trickle through the shades, but then I heard my parents' voice telling me, as it had in the past, "Just go ahead and get some rest." And so I drifted back off -- assured, comforted, and content -- just as I had been when I was 2, 5, 10, 15, and even 18.
As I stepped outside this morning, I was pleasantly surprised by what a beautiful day it was. The forecast had included a possibility of rain, but it was sunny with a nice light breeze. A single red-orange leaf on the sidewalk caught my eye. It had fallen early -- the landscape was still a lush green for the most part. I love the days in September that are still warm enough for sandals and short sleeves but yet cool enough that they warn of autumn's approach.
As I ate a ham sandwich at lunch today, I remembered picnic lunches in the park with my Mom and my dog. That was back when Darth was young and energetic. We would let him loose from his leash, and he would bound across the grass, his tongue hanging out, only glancing back once in a while to see if we were still watching him. He would smile at us during those moments. He still smiles at me when I return home for a visit, but it's a sad smile now. I can tell he misses those days too, before he had arthritis, when he still had his full vision and hearing.
I told a friend that she should stop by my room to have some cake. "It's your birthday, Megan? That's exciting!"
"Yeah... sorta."
I just don't feel like 22 is exciting. I certainly wasn't looking forward to it like I did to 14, 16, 18, and 21. No more landmarks, only milestones. Only getting older.
What about the future? I've tried to make predictions without success too many times. I'll let you know when I turn 23.
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Quote of the Day:
There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.
-Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
Posted by Megan at 08:44 PM | Comments (5)
September 19, 2004
Crisis of Conscience
Crisis #1: I have a beautiful "Minnesota for Bush/Cheney /04" button that I would like to wear on my backpack, but I know for a fact that at least one of my professors is significantly anti-Bush.
Crisis #2: (Warning, this one is a little more serious.)
My counseling textbook presents the following situation:
Client: "I'm so worried. I've just found out that I'm pregnant and I'm trying to figure out what to do. My parents will never understand how I let this happen. I have two more years of school. I don't love the father. I just can't have a baby now. Yet I've always been opposed to abortion."
The textbook says that a counselor should not allow his or her own moral standards and values to enter in. In other words, I should help the client come to her own conclusion, whatever she feels best about, and encourage her in her decision. I just don't know if I could do that.
First, I don't think that the person who wrote that could possibly have been pro-life. If one genuinely believes that ending the life of an unborn child is murder, one cannot possibly believe that it would, under any circumstances, be acceptable to encourage a person in this decision. The book suggests that the counselor should ask the client, "How do you feel about abortion now?" The author evidently does not understand that to many people, this question translates into "How do you feel about murder now?" There are exceptions in confidentiality rules to provide for safety. I believe there should be exceptions to prevent a client from harming her unborn child.
Secondly, I don't see how an educated psychologist could genuinely believe that an abortion is an option that would promote mental health. It is extremely common for women to experience psychological trauma after having an abortion. On the other hand, I would certainly not say anything to cause a person who already had an abortion to feel guilty. I do believe, however, in the value of preventative measures.
Addendum: Whether or not I should actually "publish" this was a third crisis of conscience. I realize that abortion is a sensitive topic, to say the least. However, I wanted the emphasis to be on standing up for what is right versus helping someone feel better about doing something that you believe is wrong.
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Quote of the Day:
So I strive always to keep my conscience clear before God and man. -Acts 24:16
Posted by Megan at 09:58 PM | Comments (4)
September 18, 2004
Tron
From the looks of it, my last entry was a little too long. Sorry about that. I'll try to make up for it this time.
Last night I watched Tron with about twenty other people. It was one of those terrible, terrible movies -- it fails in the plot, acting, and "special effects" categories -- but we were all rolling on the floor. It was hilarious, albeit unintentionally.
Today was spent attempting to get caught up on the reading I didn't get done for Friday. (It was exactly one week before I got behind.) It was pretty frustrating, though, because I had to blow my nose after every paragraph. I also did laundry, and the single flight of stairs winded me. At some point in my suffering, I pledged to create a vaccination for the common cold.
The major disappointment is missing out on Ed Meese, Attorney General under Reagan. He was speaking at the Republican Party of MN's Lincoln/Reagan dinner tonight, but I didn't think the other attendees would appreciate me blowing my nose all the way through his speech.
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Quote of the Day:
"Greetings. The Master Control Program has chosen you to serve your system on the Game Grid. Those of you who continue to profess a belief in the Users will receive the standard substandard training, which will result in your eventual elimination. Those of you who renounce this superstitious and hysterical belief will be eligible to join the warrior elite of the MCP. You will each receive an identity disk. Everything you do or learn will be imprinted on this disk. If you lose your disk or fail to obey commands, you will be subject to immediate de-resolution. That will be all." -Sark (David Warner) in Tron.
Posted by Megan at 09:35 PM | Comments (4)
September 17, 2004
Number One Fan
So much for the blogging every day thing. I kept it up for a week, at least.
Yesterday (Thursday) was sheer chaos. I had Media Studies class in the morning, which was actually pretty fun, because our assignment had been to find the best and worst sites on the web. I'm pretty sure I found the worst site ever. My Poetry prof was out of town, so my afternoon class was cancelled. This worked out well for me since President Bush's bus was scheduled for a stop in Rochester and I had access to VIP tickets.
As I was cruising down Highway 52 on my way to Rochester, I noticed a police car in the median. I slowed down a bit from my 10mph over the speed limit I'm-late-to-see-the-President pace. Then a half-mile later, there was another. And another. And another. I was starting to wonder if there was a warrant out for my arrest when I realized that the bus would probably come down that very highway. So I went along my merry way at 5mph over the speed limit, confidant that the friendly officers of the law had larger issues at hand.
I wasn't early when I arrived in Rochester. There was already quite a crowd, but I was shown to the front corner. Now matter how many times I see that man from just a few yards away, I think I will have the same reaction every time. I just start screaming. It's unbelievable. Thank goodness everyone around me is cheering too, or I would certainly feel like a fool.
I didn't get to shake his hand again. He shook hands with everyone in the front row, just like last time, but this time there were about four rows of people in my way. I probably could have lunged forward or shoved my way in, but I let it go. I was slightly disappointed, but overall I was content with the memory of having the opportunity in Duluth.
Sorry, no pictures. I forgot my camera.
Less than an hour after returning to Olaf, I ran my first College Republicans meeting. I was extremely nervous, but it went well anyway. I think it was a record meeting for attendance -- I had squeezed 50 chairs in to the room, figuring it would be better to have too much seating than not enough. All of the chairs were full, and some people were sitting and standing. Basically, the room was overflowing, which is both good and bad.
I would like to take all the credit for the huge turnout, but I got the impression when we were recruiting earlier in the week that this year's freshmen are much more Republican than they have been in previous years. But we (the Board) did spend hours on publicity as well. We hung signs in the commons, taped fliers to all of the doors in the freshman dorms, hung signs in the upperclassman dorms, and sidewalk chalked. I'm pretty sure everyone on campus knew about the meeting, whether they wanted to or not.
I can't help but reflect on how College Republicans has changed me, or how I have changed through it, during the past couple of years. In high school, I would have died before knocking on doors or making phone calls for candidates. I would never have had the guts to walk up to freshmen with a clipboard and ask them if they were interested in CRs. And I certainly would have never been able to stand up in front of a room of 60 of my peers and encourage them to get involved. It's still hard, but now I know that I can do it.
This morning I awoke at 3AM with a throbbing throat, pounding head, and dripping nose. It's inevitable that I get sick during the first ten days of school. Thankfully, I seem to be immune for the rest of the year. And thankfully, the bookstore keeps the shelves stocked with Tylenol Cold & Sinus.
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Quote of the Day:
" I want to thank the grassroots activists. You are the people who put up the signs and make the phone calls and do all the hard work, and never get enough credit. I'm here to give you credit for what you have done and what you're going to do, as we're coming down the pike. There's no doubt in my mind, with your help, we will carry the great state of Minnesota." -President Bush in Rochester on Thursday.
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Happy Birthday (yesterday), Mom!
Posted by Megan at 03:06 PM | Comments (3)
September 14, 2004
Who, me?
Remember the class I'm scared of with the prof I'm scared of? Last Thursday, the prof gave us worksheets to fill out for a first-day-of-class sort of activity. The questions were mostly about our thoughts concerning poetry. When I was about halfway finished with filling out the sheet, the prof announced, "There's a prize for the funniest answer."
I had just come to the following question: "Auden said in his elegy In Memory of W.B. Yeats, 'Old Ireland hurt you into poetry.' What hurt you into poetry?"
My answer was "registration."
At the beginning of class today, the prof looked around the room and asked, "Megan?" I tentatively raised my hand, unsure of what was going on. "Oh, that's you?" He looked pretty surprised that quiet little me could be so sarcastic. No one else must have had any halfway funny answers, because he handed me the prize, a little notebook. I usually don't like to reveal myself so early in the game, and usually not at all to profs. But I think it will be okay with this one.
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Quote of the Day:
"What do you think? (silence) I think it's a load of crap. No one reads poetry. No one. No one. No one." -The prof, in response to one of the points we read in an article for today. The point was about how some poets have a crisis of conscience about writing elegies for economic gain.
Posted by Megan at 08:17 PM | Comments (7)
September 13, 2004
Church and Politics (small talk)
I went to Evergreen Community Church in Lakeville yesterday. Lakeville is about 30 minutes north of Northfield. I liked it. It was in the auditorium of a high school, but for some reason it didn't feel uncomfortable. The first thing I noticed was that the lead guitar player had a guitar quite similar to one of Pat's, only he was playing it left handed. And he had a pension for jumping. And he rocked. (Not to say that Pat doesn't.) The rest of the band rocked, too. Bass... drummer... couldn't really hear the keyboard or the two female singers... and the leader was not too shabby with his electric-acoustic and had a pretty decent singing voice.
Mark Bowen did the welcome. That guy intimidates the heck out of me, but it was good to see a familiar face. The message was on "the church", and it was educational. It certainly gave me insight into Matthew 16:15-18. It never clicked with me before that "the rock" that Jesus built his church on was that of belief in and confession of him as the Messiah. Not a huge revelation, but it does add to my understanding.
From Lakeville I drove another 10 minutes north to Burnsville, where I took part in a parade. My job was to run around giving people Kline stickers. It was pretty fun, because kids will wear any sticker, no matter who it's for. Talking to the Congressman is always a treat, too. He's a great guy -- very personable.
From there, it was up to the Cities and the Vikings home opener at the Metrodome. We handed out Vikings football schedules... with President and Mrs. Bush's picture on the back. We call it "Operation Pigskin." Things are not always as they seem... mwa ha ha.
So that was Sunday in a nutshell. Then, tonight I was officially elected Chair of the St. Olaf College Republicans in a special election by the executive board. I knew this was coming, because although elections usually take place in the spring, I received a call this summer from our new Chair. He took a full-time position with the Bush-Cheney re-election campaign and is not returning to campus this fall. Thus, there was a vacancy in the board, and someone had to be elected to fill the position. And here I am.
Now, one might not think of the position of Chair at a college as small as St. Olaf as such a large responsibility. However, I have quite a tradition to uphold. Currently, the Chairman of the College Republican National Committee is a graduate of Olaf, and he is known as the one who built the organization up to the behemoth it is today. Furthermore, the CRNC Deputy Executive Director is a former Olaf Co-Chair, and the Executive Assistant to the Chairman and Director of Donor Relations is a former Olaf Chair. Those two, better known as Doug and Rachel, brought me into the fold in time for the 2002 elections, which were historic in Minnesota.
So basically, the world is being run by people who were once CR Chairs at St. Olaf. Don't tell anyone.
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Quote of the Day:
"This election could be close, and the strength of our grassroots effort will determine the outcome. Thank you in advance for all the notes and emails you will send, the phone calls you will make, the signs you will put in your yard, and the other grassroots activities that will support our reelection and help us achieve our victory."
- President George W. Bush in a recent letter to the College Republicans
Posted by Megan at 09:54 PM | Comments (4)
September 12, 2004
My Room, A Photo Journal
Ah, it's good to be back on the campaign trail. But I'm so exhausted that I have no energy left with which to write about it. So tonight I will show you some pictures of my room, and some day soon I will tell you all about my adventures in campaigning.
Couch and chairs in my favourite colour. "Liberate Iraq" sign hangs beneath my loft. I have asked for a hammock for my birthday. This will go underneath the loft and the chairs will fold up. Then, when people come over, the hammock will come down and the chairs will come out. Heh heh, isn't that clever?
Trees look into my window. A Bush/Cheney '04 sign peers out.
Speaking of signs...
I like bumper stickers, too.
But Reagan takes the position of honour, above my desk, to inspire me to greatness.
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Quote of the Day: (I'm sorry, it's a whole song, and I can't narrow it down, because all of the lyrics are good.)
The pathway is broken
And the signs are unclear
And I don't know the reason why you brought me here
But just because you love me the way that you do
I'm gonna walk through the valley
If you want me to
Cause I'm not who I was
When I took my first step
And I'm clinging to the promise you're not through with me yet
So if all of these trials bring me closer to you
Then I will go through the fire
If you want me to
It may not be the way I would have chosen
When you lead me through a world that?s not my home
But you never said it would be easy
You only said I'd never go alone
So when the whole world turns against me
And I'm all by myself
And I can't hear you answer my cries for help
I'll remember the suffering your love put you through
And I will go through the valley
If you want me to
-Ginny Owens, If You Want Me To
Posted by Megan at 10:44 PM | Comments (5)
September 11, 2004
Dear God, Please Help Me Chill
As you may have gathered from the previous couple of entries, it's been a mildly rocky transition into the school year. I hate to keep writing grumbling, complaining, depressing blogs, but I gave up being a people pleaser long ago. Maybe it's a little selfish, but I want this blog to benefit myself also, as a therapeutic release of thoughts and emotions. So hang in there, I promise that there will be an encouraging blog sometime in the future.
I've been quite anxious lately, and this fact never really entered my conscious awareness until last night. People were being loud, so I shut my windows before going to bed. Then it became suffocatingly hot, so I got up, turned on the fan, and went back to bed. I must have just entered REM sleep when I suddenly awoke, panicked, to the sound of my fan. It wasn't making any unusual noises or anything. I just heard the fan and panicked. Or maybe it was that I panicked and heard the fan. Probably the latter. So I jumped down from my loft and shut it off. And then realized that I was being rediculous. And went back to bed.
So, this is the verse that I'm hanging onto tonight:
Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 4:6-7
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Remembering 9/11/01
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Posted by Megan at 10:48 PM | Comments (3)
September 10, 2004
Hurricane Olaf
What am I up to on the first Friday night back on campus? (Well, besides writing a blog?) Studying. That's right, I cracked open my textbooks to celebrate the weekend. Kristin is working, Katie is at the Jesse James Days rodeo (darn right, I wouldn't be caught dead there), Julie is most likely in the newspaper office, and Laura and I are stuck being good students.
Thus, I was sitting on my couch, succeeding in concentrating on a task for longer than five minutes at a time for the first time all week, when I realized that it was eerily quiet on campus. Then I remembered that this phenomenon occurs when everyone else is out getting sloshed out of their minds. You see, St. Olaf College is a dry campus, meaning that you have two options on a Friday night:
A) You stop at Northfield liquor early in the evening and stuff your purchase into your backpack in order to smuggle it back to your dorm room. You then proceed to lock yourself in your room, only to emerge to stumble down the hall to the restroom, tipping over trash cans on the way, and occasionally mistaking someone else's room for the facilities.
B) You drive into town, making stops at the Grand, the Reubenstien, the L&M, and Brad's Corner Bar before swerving your way back up St. Olaf Avenue and stumbling back to your dorm room, yelling to your friends at the top of your lungs in order to make your slurred speech more understandable and tipping over trash cans on the way, occasionally mistaking someone else's room for your own... or for the facilities.
Thus, while I am cherishing the current calm, I am dreading the imminent storm, forecasted to arrive approximately three hours from now.
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Quote of the day:
"It was a bit of excitement." -One of two New Zealand karate experts who sent six muggers running for their lives while in Fiji for regional championships. Poor scheduling on the part of the muggers, if you ask me.
P.S. During the course of the summer I managed to misplace at least two CDs. One is "Afterglow" (Sarah McLachlan) and the other is homemade and labeled "U2 disk one" in black Sharpie. If you run across them, just let me know, and I'll pick them up next time I'm in town. Thanks!
Posted by Megan at 09:26 PM
September 09, 2004
Classy
The end of my last first day of classes calls for chocolate and a diet Coke.
Mass Media is going to be fairly easy. I will probably make it a little harder for myself, though, because there are a few giant liberals in there. Combating them will be enjoyable, however, because my fellow College Republican, roomie, and good friend Julie happens to be in my class.
Two are better than one,
because they have a good return for their work:
If one falls down,
his friend can help him up.
But pity the man who falls
and has no one to help him up!
Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.
But how can one keep warm alone?
Though one may be overpowered,
two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.
Ecclesiastes 4:9-12
I was scared of Advanced Poetry Writing before I set foot in the class.
Woman! Woah-man! Wooaahhhhh-man!
I used to be pretty good at spitting out verses before college, but since then I've developed more of a pension for prose. I'd never met the professor, but I'd heard a rumor last year that he was "dating" a student, though they couldn't call it "dating" or he would have gotten in all kinds of trouble with the college.
After attending the class, I'm still scared to death. Evidently the focus is on elegies, which is unpleasant by nature. The prof certainly has a sense of humor, which is always good. One of our course materials is a packet of elegies which he refers to as the "Deathpak." After he went over the syllabus, he asked if there were any questions. When there were none, he pulled a folded-up piece of paper out of his back pocket.
"Okay, there are never any questions, so I wrote these up for you. Tiffany asks, 'I don't know any dead people. Why the h*** are all these poems about dead people? What the h*** is your problem, you moribund corpse-loving ba***rd?"
So that was pretty tasteless, but pretty funny, too. I don't even remember what the answer was, but honestly, I don't think that's why he wrote the questions.
We have to write five poems over the course of the semester.
People tell me; 'Ben just make up junk
And turn it in.'
But I never was alright with turning in
A bunch of (crap).
I don't like wasting time on music
That won't make me proud.
But now I've found a reason
To sit right down and (crap) some out.
We read them to the class, and the class and the professor take turns critiquing them.
I love you more than
Any man has loved before
I love you more than
All the stars up in the sky
I think that we should settle down
And live happily forever
After.
What do you think of that?
This prof is known as the bad cop of the English department, to put it nicely. I don't want someone telling me my poem is good if it's not, but I can guarantee that the first poem I write is going to be junk.
Harriet. Harry-ette. Hard-hearted harbinger of haggis. Beautiful, bemused, bellicose butcher. Un-trust... ing. Un-know... ing. Un-love... ed? "He wants you back," he screamed into the night air like a firefighter going to a window that has no fire... except the passion of his heart. I am lonely. It's really hard. This poem... sucks.
I'm going to read it in the first workshop, he's going to tell me that it sounds like something written by a first grader, and I'm going to cry. In the middle of class. I guarantee it.
Tomorrow is Counseling Psych. I'll definitely need that after Depressing Death Writing.
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Quote of the Day:
"The prerequisits for guys to come to St. Olaf are Jerk 101, Jerk 201, and Advanced Jerk." A combined effort with contributions by Kristin, Katie, Carrie, and myself.
Posted by Megan at 05:50 PM | Comments (5)
September 06, 2004
Moving Without Direction
There's nothing quite like move-in day to cause a person to run the gamut of emotions.
I think I concerned my Mom when, as we were driving up the hill toward campus and could see the dorms poking out above the trees, I started chuckling and shaking my head. I don't really know why. That's for you to analyze.
We got to campus and started moving my belongings into my room. The whole time, I had the terrible sensation that I didn't belong. I hadn't seen anyone I knew yet, but it was more of a general feeling. Parents bragging about what their kid had done over the summer, and self-absorbed students ignoring everyone except their little group of friends. I felt old and out of place. Last year I was a peppy Junior, excited for the new year, ready to party with the friends I had just barely come to know the previous year. I just want to do this year and be done with it.
Eventually, friends started stopping by. Amanda wandered in my door. I went to see Kristin, and she and her mom took me out to dinner, and we laughed harder than is socially acceptable in a public restaurant. I ran into Julie and Derek P on the way back to my room, and we sat in Jules's room and talked Republican for quite a while. We relived Reagan's death, Bush's visits to the Midwest, and the convention. It was incredibly satisfying to share emotions that we had felt only by ourselves at the time. Then we went to the Applebee's that we went to too often last year. It was good, but yet a little sad since Britt graduated and Nick transfered.
I saw Brianna at Applebee's also, and when I finally made it back to my room, Laura had left a note on my dry-erase board. Amy IMed me from Florida to let me know that she survived the hurricane. It's good to be back with old friends. Very good.
Yet here I am, sitting in my semi-settled, fairly cluttered room, using Coldplay to try to drown out that haunting feeling that I don't belong here.
During the message on Sunday, Pat S talked about saying 'yes' to following God even before you know where he wants you to go. I don't know where God is leading me, but I think I would be happy to go there if he would just let me know where I should go.
Honestly, I don't think God wants me to drop out of college, but I feel like I belong in Ames, and here I am, not in Ames.
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Quote of the Day: "Do we fear our enemies more than we love our children?" Bumper sticker repleat with a peace sign on one of the cars on campus. I never realized the two were mutually exclusive.
Posted by Megan at 12:04 AM | Comments (3)
September 02, 2004
Steady and Unchanging
Even though I've missed being in Ames this past week, there are a few things that I have really enjoyed about being home (in Omaha). The first and foremost is hanging out with my parents. My Dad cracks me up. My mom is one of my best friends, if not the best. My dog is probably number two after my mom.
I also find great contentment in sitting down at our old upright piano in the big, open living room with the wood floor and high ceiling. I just open up whatever music is sitting there, generally what my mom has been playing. Frequently, the LBW (Lutheran Book of Worship, AKA green hymnal) is open, and such was the case this evening.
As I played through my old favorites -- Abide with Me, King of Love, This is My Father's World -- I couldn't help but feel nostalgic. My parents made the painfully difficult decision recently to leave the church that has been our home since before my brother and myself were born. I firmly believe that this is the right decision for them, but that doesn't make it any easier.
When The Lone Strangers came to play in our new sanctuary, they marveled at what a beautiful building it is. I agreed, but mentioned that it wasn't the sanctuary I grew up in, so it just wasn't as wonderful to me. It's not where I gnawed on the pew in front of me when I was teething, or where I colored on the offering envelopes during the sermon before I was old enough to understand what the Pastor was saying. It's not where I learned to sing harmony by listening to my mom, or where I took my first communion. It's not where I stood up at the pulpit to tell the congregation what God did when the youth group went to Mexico or where I played Oh Holy Night on Christmas Eve.
Fortunately, Scott reminded me that church is not (or shouldn't be) a building, and that it was probably good preparation for God's kingdom that we not grow too attached to physical structures. In other words, even churches on earth are "not our home".
This is somewhat in conjunction with something that God has been trying to teach me for years now. In the middle of my nomadic lifestyle this summer, I was struck one day, and I think that if God ever spoke directly to me, it was probably then. A question came to me as I was pondering my lack of stability at the time, and I think God just plain asked me, "Can you trust me above anything and anyone else?" And I couldn't help but wonder how many of the times when I've had to leave people and places and things that I know and love were times when God was trying to teach me to do this.
Wow. This was originally going to be a blog about when tradition can be meaningful and how I think when I have kids (if, God willing, I ever do) that I will probably take them to the church service with the "contemporary" music. That's where I find it easiest to meet God, and I think it would most likely be the same for them. But they might have to learn the old hymns by hearing me play through them on the piano.
I guess the common thread here, if there is one, is best expressed by something slightly more eloquent and authoritative than myself:
Your word, O LORD , is eternal;
it stands firm in the heavens.
Your faithfulness continues through all generations;
you established the earth, and it endures.
Psalm 119:89-90
Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.
2 Corinthians 4:16-18
Posted by Megan at 09:46 PM | Comments (4)