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May 31, 2005
Deja Vu
I commenced Sunday. As I sat in an enormous gown and rediculous cap listening to speakers tell me that this is the beginning (of what, nobody knows) and that love is the answer, I had the strange feeling that I had done the same exact thing four years ago.
After the ceremony, I began to feel my first twinge of nostalgia. As I walked away from the robed mob of students and professors, I wondered how long it would be before I saw my friends again and if I wondered if I would ever see my professors again. Some of them I don't care to see again. Others have been both respected mentors and good friends, whose instruction I anticipated. But they will have new students next year.
Yet again, I went through the same process four years ago. Some of my classmates I haven't seen since they walked across the stage to receive their diploma. Others I make it a point to visit on a regular though infrequent basis. My teachers, however, are no longer my teachers. I visited my high school a few times after graduating, but it was no longer my high school. I didn't belong there. I was required to stop in the administration office and pick up a "visitor" name tag before walking through the halls. I chatted with my teachers, but most were occupied with their students.
And so the cycle goes. Meeting new people and saying goodbye to old friends. I realized when I said my last farewell to my college friends, I always said "see ya." At first I thought it was a mistake, but then it occured to me that I would see them again. Perhaps not as frequently, and the circumstances may not be the same, but the hope of a future reunion makes the sorrow of parting much more bearable. And it gives me an excuse to make my word good and arrange a visit next time I'm in town.
Posted by Megan at 07:20 PM | Comments (1)
May 21, 2005
Coincidence? I Think Not.
Coldplay playing Target Center on Sept. 20
Posted by Megan at 03:03 PM | Comments (2)
May 19, 2005
One Up, One Down
I turned in my last final today. I'm done with school. Forever.
I also just returned from a dinner in St. Paul with Rudy Giuliani. I got to shake his hand. There's something about people who have or had positions of power. They are intense. I think the guy's eyes shot a laser beam right through my head. Crazy.
I also received my first rejection letter (or e-mail):
Megan,
Thank you very much for you letter. We do not have any openings at this point. We may have an opening late this calendar year. I will keep your resume on file and please keep in touch.
Clarke Scanlon
District Director
Congressman Tom Latham
So I probably won't be living in Ames. At least not until late this calendar year.
We'll see if Minnesota wants me for a while longer.
Posted by Megan at 11:01 PM | Comments (6)
May 18, 2005
Strangely Familiar
My non-fiction writing final was today. Our final entailed turining in a portfolio featuring three of our finest essays revised and ready to be sent in for publishing. We met at our writing prof's house.
This was only the second time I have ever been to one of my prof's homes. Last year one of my psych profs had a Christmas party and made cookies for us. She was like a young aunt -- homey and hospitable.
Hanging out at my writing prof's house was like... well, it was like hanging out at my brother's house. He even had a screened-in porch. But honestly, the first thing that I noticed when I entered was that it smelled exactly like my Grandpa John. If I had to guess I would say that the smell was old shaving soap, which would fit the vintage/antique decor.
The extra-special aspect of off-campus gatherings at a school with a dry campus policy is the presence of alcoholic beverages. Upon entering, Laura and I were offered the choice of "diet cranberry juice, beer, wine, or water... or this soda" as he held up the half-empty bottle of diet Coke in his hand. We both opted for water. It was, after all, 2:30 in the afternoon in the midst of finals week.
He pulled up some tunes on his computer. The variety of music was immense. At one point, Rufus Wainwright was followed up directly with Cake. I thoroughly enjoyed the mix.
We sat out on the porch for a while, and some students tried their skills at putting into the automatic put return, the prof's new pastime. Eventually, he suggested ping-pong (the lawn was a little soggy for badminton).
I must have looked interested: "Megan, you play ping-pong?"
"Yeah!"
"Good, you're on my team."
My prof and I proceeded to wallop 3 other teams of doubles in quick succession. During one round, he decided to don a Kimono.
Finally we ended up each sharing some of our writing with the rest of the class. Then it was time to leave.
That was the best final I've ever had.
------
Quote of the Day:
"I love your intro." -Laura
"You love Harry Truman?" -A very confused me.
Posted by Megan at 11:53 PM | Comments (0)
May 17, 2005
Summertime
It sounds from blogs like everyone's summer is off to a great start! Mine is... not quite here yet. Finals start tomorrow.
I sent off my first resume today. I know, I'm starting late on this process. But that's not the point. My first resume went to Congressman Tom Latham of Iowa. I have six more envelopes addressed, all of which are for jobs in Minnesota.
It was about this time last year that I sent a resume to the office Senator Charles Grassley of Iowa on a whim. And we all know how that turned out.
I have no doubt that God brought me to Ames last summer. Once again the odds are against me ending up there, but odds never meant anything to the big guy anyway.
------
Quote of the Day: "Pray for me. Don't brag. And don't talk to Connie Chung." -Barbara Bush, on what George W. Bush asks of her.
Posted by Megan at 06:08 PM | Comments (1)
May 16, 2005
Foreign Canned Ham
I'd hate to see what the drunk ones produce.
Posted by Megan at 01:32 PM | Comments (1)
May 14, 2005
Oh Lederhosen
Here's an e-mail sent by my writing prof. His e-mails are always entertaining, but I thought this one was especially great:
Dear Ones,
All the essays that were in my possession are now commented on and sitting in a box outside of my office. If your essay is not in the box, then I don't have it. If you have any questions about this, then I would happy to explain it to you , but, unfortunately, my explanation will probably involve my reading to you what I just friggin' wrote--only slower like you're retarded.
The final portfolio will consist of three (3) essays. Your best essay, and the two runners up. Not two (2) or four (5), but seven (3). I hope this is clear. I'd like to add sgkjho'flkj. Indeed.
For the Norweigan part of the exam, you will be made to clog. I will provide Lederhosen in purple and fuchia, sizes 8-12. Those not fitting these will have to provide their own.
Come to my house on Wendesday, May 18th 2:30-4:30 (aka the final exam time) to turn in your portfolios and test whether badminton really is a "sport." I'll also have food. Dave, and anyone else who'd like to help, show up early. My house is 11 Lincoln Lane. It's green and can be recognized by the Christmas lights and half-dressed man in the yard.
Give me ideas for food.
smooches-
e
Posted by Megan at 05:47 PM | Comments (3)
May 10, 2005
New Toy
I love my parents. They let me know they are thinking of me by sending goodies via snail mail: notes, comics, and sometimes even care packages around finals time.
Today I received a package from a place called the liberty store. I opened it up to find... my very own Ann Coulter talking doll!
I'm extatic. I was going to leave it in the office for other CRs to enjoy, but I feel very protective of it. No abuse shall happen to my little Annie. In fact, I think I will just leave her in her box. There is a hole in the wrapper where you can push the button to make her talk.
As my mother said, "(You're) never too old to play with dolls."
Posted by Megan at 08:11 PM | Comments (0)
May 07, 2005
Another Saturday Night
I'm standing just inside the front door of my dorm, waiting for the Domino's delivery guy. A few guys who look like they haven't had a haircut since Christmas break come out for a smoke. An SUV pulls up, and some frat/sorority-looking guys and girls run out of the dorm to meet the frat/sorority-looking guys and girls pouring out of the vehicle. Suddenly everyone is holding a drink, and I marvel and the effectiveness of a dry campus. I also wonder what the point is of wearing shorts over pants, as one of the girls is sporting this look.
Soon the crowd disperses, headed off to "the party." Two guys are left, one puffing away and the other stumbling around with his drink in hand. Then the guy with the cup pauses, bends over a little, and grabs his nose. I cringe, knowing what's next. I'll resort to clichés in order to spare the gruesome details: He spills his cookies. Right in front of the sober smoking guy.
Drunk guy: "Sorry, man."
Sober smoker: "I've been there man." Not a wince. Not a flinch. Completely calm. Puke not six inches from his feet.
That's either awesome understanding or sheer insanity.
Posted by Megan at 11:25 PM | Comments (0)
May 06, 2005
Walk Around in Circles
Thanks to the Lone Strangers for rocking Olaf this evening. And for hanging out with me. Good times.
When we wandered into the arcade this afternoon, I noticed that the Donkey Kong game was gone. I would have never notice, much less cared, if any other of the games had been missing, but I had recently set a high score on Donkey Kong. All of my pride and hard work vanished.
I decided that this experience is a good metaphor for life. You work hard at one thing, but as soon as you acomplish something, no one cards about that anymore.
Okay, so that was pretty weak. But I like life metaphors. In fact, life is much like a Lone Strangers concert at St. Olaf: you rock your heart out, but everyone around you keeps walking around in circles, absorbed in themselves.
Posted by Megan at 11:51 PM | Comments (1)
May 05, 2005
Ann, You're the Woman... I Mean, "Person"
Olaf must love us for all the publicity we bring them. Most recently, a photo of us with Ann Coulter appeared on the homepage of the Clare Boothe Luce Policy Institute. Then on Wednesday night she mentioned us on Hannity and Colmes:
"I have to say St. Olaf's and St. Thomas questions were stunningly bad, so bad I can't even remember."
But we remember you, Ann, because you were so good!
Posted by Megan at 12:23 AM | Comments (2)
May 04, 2005
Strangers at Olaf
I'm pretty sure everyone knows about this already, but just in case:
The Lone Strangers are coming to St. Olaf on Friday! They will be playing at Relay for Life, a fundraiser for the American Cancer Society. They start their set at 7:30, so get down to the football field to hear some rock 'n roll! (Skogland is the rain location.)
I'm so excited that I'm about to explode.
Posted by Megan at 05:26 PM | Comments (4)
May 01, 2005
Mayday
Here it is, May 1st.
Here it is, snowing in Minnesota.
Here it is, 29 days until I graduate from college.
Here I am, meeting people to whom I will have to say goodbye in less than a month.
Here I am, living every college experience for the last time.
Here I am, not knowing where I'm going to be or what I will be doing in June.
The washing instructions on one of my shirts said to wash inside out. Without thinking twice, I stuck my arm in and pulled the neck through the waste in one swift motion. Then time froze. Sunlight rushing in the window illuminated what appeared to be dust billowing from the sweater. As I wondered at the strange beauty of the spectacle, I realized that the dust must have actually been dead, dry skin from my body that had been transfered to the sweater after I removed it. Now it had been released, and was floating free in the atmosphere, randomly and chaotically.
We are dust, and to dust we shall return.
A friend changed his Instant Messanger profile recently to include random "bet you never knew" facts. The first one states that the average lifespan of a dragonfly is 24 hours.
I had a nightmare the night before last. It was the end of the world, and people were dying off one by one. Before long, I heard a shout, and I knew what had happened. I ran around the corner to see that my mom had fallen to the floor. I grabbed her hand as I watched her eyes glaze over. "I love you," I whispered. She mouthed the same words back, and then I watched her die. When she was gone, I wailed at the top of my lungs. Halfway through my breath, I woke up with a start.
I cried for at least half an hour. I knew it was just a dream, but that was no reassurance. My mom's death will occur someday, and I can only pray that I can be at her side when it does.
A slightly less troubling thought is that my own days are numbered. I am not frightened by the thought of my death as much as I am humbled with the reality that I will not live forever. How often do I treat my time as if it will eventually run out? It is, after all, expendable.
I have no neat way to wrap this up. A nice way would probably be with the hope of life after death. But let's face it: no one knows what that will be like. No one can come back and tell us how it's going. (Unless you believe that John Edward character and his Crossing Over show, in which case, I'm very sorry.) But I know I'm going to savor the time I have with my family and friends. And I'm going to try to stop doing stuff just to do stuff and think a little more often, "I'm living, thank God."
Posted by Megan at 10:55 PM | Comments (0)