A few notes
before we get started.
First of
all—I’ve been writing this on-and-off for about a week, so some dates/tenses
are misleading. For example, by the end of this post, I am definitely no longer at Coffee News (sadly—I’m already missing the
pumpkin bars again) and finals are actually next week (NOOOOOOOO!!!). I could
go back and change it, but it would get all confusing, so I’m leaving it be.
Just imagine me writing this as I got through my week and as exciting things
come and go. Like the cow (see below).
Secondly! My
wonderful sister enjoys being mean about my blog—she says it’s either because
she loves it (and therefore must hate on it, in the way of siblings) or because
it’s just ridiculously happy (something I may have addressed in this one…) depending
on the day. Anyway the result is that she has mentioned some unfortunately true
things….Firstly, I have been accused of over-using the exclamation point
sprinkler. I could try to change this, but I’m just so enthusiastic about this
ridiculous place! And I always did put too much powdered sugar on my cakes. So
that’s staying. But she also told me that I use the adjectives “awesome”,
“lovely”, “amazing” and “adorable” far too much, which is absolutely true. So
this blog post will be the MAD LIBS VERSION. Anytime that I’m feeling like using
one of those four adjectives, I have to replace it with some other random
adjective—sparkly, green, prickly, spicy, etc. I will also bold them, because
otherwise one is baffled. Hope it’s readable—one must follow the orders of Her
Magnificence!
On to the news!
I am
currently sitting at Coffee News (my new favorite spot, because they have
delicious English Rose tea lattes and absolutely INCREDIBLE pumpkin bars of
deliciousness and joy) with Emma (my friend from across the hall—Keo’s
roommate, and one of the few people here who misses Mexican food as much as I
do (she’s from Texas)) with the sun shining outside and the lightest dusting of
snow on the ground (from what is only the second sticking snowfall of the
year—in December. In Minnesota. What??), eating the aforementioned delicacies,
and feeling very glad to be alive and at Mac.
Which is a rather nice counterpoint to the
last week or so—everyone has started to go a little (or a lot) mad as finals
swiftly approach (less than two weeks! AHHHHHH—NO. Don’t think about it.) and
scheduling decisions are made (for next semester) and final projects become
less like distantly looming creatures of darkness and much more like death
standing over your left shoulder and trying to start a chat.
Did I
mention that everyone is stressed?
Anyway, the
general feeling of anxiety has reached all-time highs, perhaps especially among
the freshpersons (including me), who still haven’t yet figured out that a B is
not the end of the world and that if we don’t get the classes we wanted, we
still have time to make up for it. My poor dear roommate is particularly
frantic lately, to the extent that my new mantra when I see her stressed out
is, “a B is NOT A BAD GRADE!” She’s struggling to believe me, and sometimes I
think I’ve got her convinced, but then two days later she’s freaking out again.
So I give her hugs and start the kettle going and then return to secretly
worrying about my grades…basically, we’re both messes.
And, even
more unfortunately, I have finally reached the end of the mid-semester bounty
my green sister sent me (cookies and
popcorn and more cookies and, oh yes, more cookies!),
so I can’t even munch on that or share it with
Charmaine when we get freaked out. We’re back to drinking gallons of tea. And
there was this terrible while where I was OUT
OF TEA,
but luckily
I have restocked, and my stash is now better than ever.
And
some of the effects of my bounty have
lingered! I still have this
spicy
shark she sent:
whose name
is either Henry or Francis. I’m taking a poll, if anyone would like to vote.
Charmaine gets two votes, though, since she lives with him. Currently it’s
three for Henry and two for Francis. Also, I have the creosote Clara sent,
which fills my room with the incredibly non-stressy and wonderful smell of
desert rain when I sprinkle it with water. And then for several days
afterwards, just very faintly.
Moving on to
a subject less anxious than my feelings of overwhelming anxiety (thinking about
it is just making me more stressed out), I recently got to register for classes
for next semester! Although I expected this to be an exciting process, it ended
up being rather overwhelming. See, I’m considering about five majors right now
(English, Chemistry, Art History, Biology, and Theater), and it’s is impossible
for me to take the right next class for all of them at the same time. I
eventually decided upon this schedule (and got it! hooray!) for the following
reasons:
Greek Myth (MWF, 8:30-9:30):
there is NO REASON for me to take this class except that I absolutely LOVE
Greek mythology and am dying to learn more (and this professor seems really
interesting). It doesn’t help me along the way to any of the majors I’m considering
and it doesn’t fill any general education requirements (except for a humanities
credit, which is not something I’m
anticipating having difficulty completing. In fact, I may have already
completed it…). My excuse for taking
it is that, if I end up with either an English or Art History major, it would
help me a great deal to have a thorough, academic grounding in Greek mythology.
Also we get to look at plays, modern interpretations, Greek vases, and poems
relating to the myths! (Yeah…I’m really just taking this class because I want
to. And the Genetics professor who everyone says is plaid is on sabbatical next semester, so I shouldn’t take that
class until she’s back.) (Oh, and it turns out Keo is taking this class with
me!).
Poetry (MWF, 9:40-10:40): This class actually does have some reason behind it. It is an entry level course in the
English department, which would both fulfill a slot in the English major and allow
me to start taking the really interesting looking 300-level courses.
Additionally, my roommate is taking it right now and she LOVES it. She says the
professor is interesting and excited and polka-dotted,
and she showed me this e-mail he sent out to her class one day:
"IMPORTANT INFORMATION ABOUT THOMSON’S AUTUMN. Make sure you are
healthy enough to engage in interpretive activity before reading Autumn. Common
side effects include dizziness, euphoria, and confusion. These side effects are
generally mild but may distress some readers. Until you know how Autumn will
affect you, do not drive oxen or operate heavy agricultural machinery. If you
experience any of the following symptoms, write your response paper
immediately, as these may be signs of a serious interpretive occasion:
* disturbed boundaries between nature and humanity
* blurred personhood
* a sudden loss of control over important distinctions
Always read Autumn in a well-ventilated area. Exercise particular caution when
reading ll. 1165–1207, which may cause acute respiratory distress and
interpretive excitability. If you become disoriented while reading Autumn, open
windows and move promptly to an outdoor location."
All of which
clearly proves that I need to take
this class. Also, he got really excited when she told him that her roommate
(luckily unnamed) memorizes poetry for fun and particularly likes The Windhover. Which he then
mostly-recited and said, “Ooh, I should memorize that!”. So clearly he’s
incredibly sparkly.
Chemistry II (MWF, 10:50-11:50,
with lab R 1:20-4:30): This is the follow-up to the chemistry class I’m taking
right now and clearly should be taken immediately afterwards. Also, it turns
out that, even though I love the arts
and humanities more, I really enjoy having an analytical class mixed in with
the others. I like the numbers and the algebra and the this-is-a-fact-you-can-memorize-and-understand-y-ness
of the subject. Which is why I’m continuing to consider biology and chemistry
as majors. And this class is an important early class in the chain for both. Also
both Keo and Cassidy ended up in this section (hooray!).
General Anthropology (MWF,
1:10-2:10): This class mostly just looks really interesting, but it also covers
archeology and linguistics, both of which are fields I’m really interested in
exploring. Also it will help me fulfill my social sciences requirement, so
that’s good.
Anyway, I’m very excited for my classes next
semester! The problem is that I just decided (about three days after I wrote
the first half of this—did I mention that the timeline would occasionally get
confusing?) that my ideal plan would be to double major in Art History and
English and minor in Chemistry, but this is, terribly, IMPOSSIBLE! It would require
exactly 32 classes, which would both mean that I would have had to have started
last semester and have never taken a
class not in those fields. Which wouldn’t work with my internationalism,
multiculturalism, and social sciences requirements. *sigh* So now I have to
decide which major to minorize or whether to drop chem. It will be a difficult
decision.
In random other
news:
Once again I
can’t resist sharing some of the pictures I’ve taken in Chemistry lab. Some of
the solutions we make are just so interesting
looking!
various solutions and a precipitate
an excerpt from our lab that made me really happy
another precipitate
chem jokes!
this is the ominously named “rubber policeman”
Keo may have gotten a little carried away with labeling
stuff…
Besides the
other guests I’ve had recently—Grandma Tschudi, my parents, my new shark
friend—Charmaine and I have also had a mysterious guest, who stayed for three
whole days but never said a word:
As for my
other, more normal, guests, like Sorcha and Rachel, I have begun to notice that
they are ALL OBSESSED with my bears.
Who are
admittedly very cute, but still! The first thing Rachel does when walking into
our room is grab the bears from the end of my bed and then sit down in our
chair with a bear under each arm. And then she plays with them while she talks.
Luckily, our reporter in the field has managed to photographically capture some
of these amusing moments, which she now presents for your entertainment,
including several of the subject actually asleep
with said plush toys:
Sorcha also
enjoys playing with the bears, although less regularly. Still, I managed to sneak
a picture.
And Rachel’s
roommate always pets the bears on her way in when she comes to talk to
Charmaine. Basically everybody loves the bears.
Speaking of
Sorcha, she gave me the best possible compliment the other day, which was so
wonderful that I need to share it. She told me that she’d just watched Amelie for the first time and that
Audrey Tatou reminded her very much of me. !!!!!!! SO. FLUORESCENT! There are few people/characters I would rather be
compared to. (!!!!!!! It’s been about
three weeks since she said this and I’m still amazed.)
My friends
and I have also been going on a SPO kick. SPO stands for “student post office”
and is used either as a noun describing our mailboxes (“I’m going to check my
SPO.”), a noun describing an actual piece of mail (“I got a SPO!” or “Thanks
for the SPO!”), or a verb that is basically equivalent with “send mail to”
(“I’m going to SPO all my friends.”). Or anything else mail related that we
feel like. Anyway, Charmaine and I have been SPOing people (and each other)
like crazy and it has been shiny
(accidental FIREFLY REFERENCE because of ad libs!!). Here are some pictures of
the more striped ones:
a card I made for Charmaine
a card Charmaine made for Rachel
cards I made for Keo (left), who loves bacon, and Rachel, who has made fun of me for saying "You dropped my bear!" in an (apparently) hilarious voice for months now
the inside of Rachel's card
a card Sorcha made for Charmaine and I
the back of the card from Sorcha (drawn on re-used paper) which seems to have some sort of mysterious incantation: "CROSSES AND TIGERS, CROSSES AND TIGERS!"
the inside of Keo's card
my drawing of Henry/Francis for Rachel's card
The other
day, Charmaine came into our room, put down her bag, then turned to me and
said, “Hey, can you stand up for a sec?” Slightly puzzled, I did so and was HUG
RUSHED! She’d just received my latest SPO note (apparently we use it as an
adjective as well) and was thoroughly excited. My roommate is so fantastic!
Keo and I
went to the cheese shop after our penultimate test, although sadly not after
the most recent (and last!) one. Sandwiches are somehow less appetizing when
it’s 15 degrees outside.
I wanted to
share an excerpt from my new favorite song with you:
“The wind is blowing,
The trees are bare,
Snowflakes beginning to fall.
Everyone's gone to The Mall
In Minn-a-sohta, St. Paul.
But it's December twenty-one
And I'm ready to feel the sun!
I'm dreaming of a green Christmas,
Just like they always used to be.
Where the palm trees rustle
And people hustle
To watch the sun set in the sea.
I'm dreaming of a green Christmas,
With every final that I've seen.
Mac is awesome, cool, and keen,
But may all my Christmases be green.”
First of all, this is some brilliant
songwriting. I’m incredibly impressed, although I should be used to this
amazingness by now. Thanks, Grandmarina! Secondly, this is almost entirely
true. It’s ridiculously cold here lately, and I can’t wait to be home where
it’s warmer and filled with family. And Christmas by the ocean is always
wonderful. But, on the other hand, it’s effervescent
to experience a white pre-Christmas for the first time ever. To actually have “jack-frost nipping at my nose” and
a “first snowfall of the winter” and to sing “let it snow” as the snowflakes
are actually falling around me. But I miss the smell of carob.
It’s that
time of the blog again: whiteboard time! I know you guys have been dying to see
what words Charmaine and I have chosen lately.
notice reciprocatory tropics from Sorcha!
(I promise that I'm getting to the cow!)
Daddy
noticed this when the parents were visiting me for Thanksgiving, and every time
I think about it I get ridiculously happy. Seriously, how does a place this
cute exist??
The most
recent (and final) play that my theater class went to see was The Inland Sea, put on by our very own
theater department and starring our very own TA/writing preceptor. Once again,
I was not a huge fan. It was better than most that we’ve seen—and surprisingly
well-acted—but I was rather annoyed by the choices the author made. Sorry for being
all repetitive and hating most of these plays, but the problem is that my
theater professor and I have radically different ideas about theater. She likes
shocking plays—weird, experimental, bizarre, forceful plays. I like plays that make their points more subtly,
with beautiful imagery or language or moments. Sadly, since she’s gotten to
pick our schedule, most of the plays we’ve seen have been shock plays, which I don’t
approve of, so…
But the reason I
brought it up at all is because I wanted to show you all the Mac rock’s extra
impressive decoration for the play.
Speaking of decoration!
I decided to spruce up my lamp, and wanted to show it off to you. Because it’s
cool.
And
Charmaine spruced up our doorway, which is even cooler!
A while ago,
I went back to the MIA (Minneapolis Institute of Arts (the plural still bothers
me)) to attend a talk on a Middle Kingdom (Egyptian) tomb. It was a fascinating talk about the tomb of
Governor Djehutynakht and his wife and gave me a much better understanding of
Middle Kingdom artwork. The man who gave the talk—a curator at the Boston MFA,
where the contents of the tomb are housed—seemed to be both giving a lecture on
an interesting piece of art and giving an impassioned plea for the importance
of Middle Kingdom art, which was endearingly amusing. It’s hard to tell from
this picture, but the fuzzy thing
about this artwork is the shading that
isn’t really apparent in Old Kingdom artwork. The onions piled on the table of
offerings are shaded to indicate their spherical nature, Djehutynakht’s (the
biggest figure, seated) farther leg is shaded to indicate the distance, and
there is smoke rising from the glowing coals in the priest’s (the man next to
Djehutynakht) incense burner.
(from MFA Educators Online)
I also
enjoyed this adventure because the part of Minneapolis I was visiting seemed to
be more thoroughly in the throes of fall than my part of town (where most of
the trees had already lost their leaves). It was a clear, gorgeous, windy day
and although I unfortunately only brought my point-and-shoot camera, I still
wanted to share some of the pictures.
red converse make everything better
notice the leaves caught in mid-swoop!
I also got
to do one of those boxes for an impoverished child this year for Christmas.
Since my parents kindly agreed to assist with the practical presents, I was
able to fill my box quite excitingly (for a 5-9 year-old boy).
The other
day, as I was sitting in Café Mac, a boy walked into the seating area, picked
up one of the potted trees we have around the edges, carried it up to the
stage, and set it in the middle of a table (which was partially occupied with
dining students). And then walked out.
The table, now unoccupied, but still with tree.
Later, as I
was thinking about how weird some of the students are, I walked into the
children’s section of the library and saw this on the re-shelve cart.
Someone wonderful
was reading Blueberries for Sal.
And now,
today, there is a cow on campus. I’m not even making this up. There is
literally a cow and some people dressed like the Amish and a guy in a stripy
nightgown (old-fashioned style). Did I mention the cow?? This place is so weird
and mustachioed.
This is a picture a friend took. I’ve been told that the man
in the PJs (on right) is our school’s president. It now appears to me that they’re putting
on A Christmas Carol (what with the
chains and pajamas and all) but I’m still at a loss as to why the cow and the
Amish were needed.
Weeks ago,
some of the girls on my floor and I (I think the group was Emma, Keo, Rachel,
Charmaine, Sorcha, and I) went to The Tea Garden—I got a vanilla tea latte that
tasted strangely of liquidized marshmallows—to talk.
The seasonal sticker-to-keep-the-tea-from-splashing-out!
There was no
space for all of us to sit, so we moved two doors down to a sandwich shop that
was open and empty. This ended up being an excellent decision for several
reasons: (1) two of the girls ordered sandwiches that came with chips that
the rest of us were able to steal, (2) they had cups full of trivial pursuit
questions that Charmaine read to us and Emma and I failed at answering (too
many sports-history-related ones), and (3)—best of all—they had crayons!
My cup by the end of the evening.
We talked
about absolutely nothing of consequence and had an absolutely wonderful time.
It was so nice to just all sit crowded into that silly booth and chat and color
and sneak chips. I’m continually amazed by the awesomeness of the people I’ve
found here and so glad that we all
ended up at Mac.
And then
afterwards Charmaine and I stayed up crazy late talking about life and
relationships. It was like a sleepover except for the part where we both live
in this room and we actually did get some sleep.
I end up
hanging out with those girls quite a bit, actually, which is wonderful. Rachel
recently re-decorated her room (after returning home for Thanksgiving and
coming back with decorations supplies), so she invited us all to tea. We had a
mini tea party (to which each of us brought at least a box of tea) and analyzed
Christmas carols for their real or apparent creepiness.*
*I actually
usually disapprove of such discussions, since I think that there are times when
analysis just makes everything much worse. It can be useful to notice problems
in wording or action, but it isn’t always necessary to condemn products (of the
Christmas carol and Disney movie variety) made with good intention for their
possible problems, assuming those problems are not too important and pervasive
to ignore (ahem, Twilight). But in
this case it was kind of fun.
As most of
you know, my parents came to visit for Thanksgiving. For those of you who got
their e-mail, you know that I was fed much delicious (and free for me!) food
and did much exploring of the twin cities. We went to a conservatory, Minnehaha
Falls, to the river, to an island on
the river for Thanksgiving dinner, to the Cathedral of Saint Paul, spent a
great deal of time just chatting in coffee shops, and drove around the
downtowns of both Saint Paul and Minneapolis. We, tragically, did not go to the
cheese shop. The things they didn’t
tell you, though! First of all, Mom was completely infatuated with the black squirrels. Had she been slightly more
nimble on her feet (leg completely healed and such) and if they’d been driving
home, I’m certain that there would have been a silky black stowaway in the car.
Secondly,
when we were at the Mill City part of Minneapolis (where many, many mills used
to run off of the Mississippi (I can
just imagine myself on the Broadmor playground again, playing
M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I on the parallel bars)), we also saw the Guthrie from the
outside, where I discovered that the so-called “Infinite Bridge” I’d walked out
on to see the view was actually a terrifying Cantilever of Doom. I can’t
believe there’s nothing under that!
When I tried to explain this to some friends who were also
in my theater class when we went to the Guthrie, I discovered that “cantilever”
is another one of those words normal kids don’t use. Like “Pareto Superior” and
“merci poughkeepsie.”
It’s funny
to me. As I’ve been getting to see more and more of the so-called Twin Cities,
I’ve become increasingly convinced that these cities must be fraternal
twins—the kind who look nothing alike and you only know that they’re twins when
you accidentally find out that they have the same birthday. Saint Paul is much
fancier (and more expensive!) than Minneapolis. It’s the upscale, slightly
pretentious, and beautifully old half. Minneapolis, on the other hand, is more
urban, more hip, and much more impoverished. It’s uglier, but it also has more
character. I love getting to live here, though, because I get to have the
benefits of both. Minneapolis is only a bus ride away, but I get to live on a
street filled with gorgeous Victorian mansions. With turrets.
This evening,
Sorcha and I ate dinner together, where we discovered that there were MANY
BEAUTIFUL CUPCAKES. So then Sorcha decided that it was time for CUPKCAKE FEST
2011 and we collected our plates and many cupcakes (for which we got quite a
few strange looks on the way back to our table…):
and began to
FEAST. Actually, we could only eat two of the cupcakes each, so we carried the
others out with us. In the Café lobby we met two friends coming in for dinner
and stood chatting with them for maybe twenty minutes by accident before
continuing outside into the veryvery cold. Sorcha had somewhere between fifteen
and twenty minutes before an event—too long to show up early and too short to
go back to the dorm—so we decided to go for a walk. We stopped for a photo op
at by the chapel lights,
and then
moved over to the flag pole, where we sang “The Hills are Alive with the Sound
of Cupcakes” in our best bellows and did a cupcake chant and dance around the
flagpole. Then we decided to take the cupcakes on a field trip and ended up
walking all the way around campus, with a stop at the swing set to let the
cupcakes have some fun.
After that,
Sorcha named them Ricky and Lucy and we headed back towards her event, where we
got an extremely startled look from another attendee when I turned to Sorcha
and said, “Hand me Ricky.” Whereupon she handed me a cupcake.
Ricky (in front) and Lucy
I’ve
discovered something about the weather here. You know how in Arizona, they seem
to put the low in just to make you feel better about what your day will be
like? I mean, okay, maybe the temperature gets that low for about five minutes
at two AM,
but for most of the day it’ll be at or near the high.
Well,
Minnesota is the opposite. I’m convinced that the high is put there just to
make us feel better. Most days, the temperature never gets as high as it claims
it will. (Speaking of which, Charmaine and I have made a pact to only say the
temperatures in Fahrenheit during the winter and only in Celsius during the
summer. Because -12 just sounds so
much worse than 10. And we can’t even imagine what negative Fahrenheit will
sound like. Also that’s not covered on the sandy
conversion charts Grandma Tschudi gave us, so we’d just be confused.)
Some days,
I’m convinced that I can handle this. I mean, I survived that day in the DC
cold at Obama’s inauguration, right? But then, other days, I remember how
different it is to live somewhere
where it gets that cold, and to go out day after day into the freezing air. And
then I’m convinced that I’ve made a terrible life choice.
But then the
snow comes and I can’t think anything negative for days. I adore snow. We’ve
had so many different kinds of snow and they’ve all been oceanic (although the fluffy, sparkle-snow was the best). Every
time I look out my dorm room window and see our evergreen covered in white, I
just get a little shiver of excitement (and sometimes also of cold). I can’t
get used to how exciting it is to have fresh, paisley snow on the ground.
When I was walking
to Whole Foods several weeks ago, after the first sticking snow, I heard these
two women talking. The one was saying that she actually thought the snow was
kind of pretty, while the other one shot her down. Eventually, the first woman
said, “Well, of course I don’t romanticize
it.”
WELL I DO,
LADY. I’m head-over-heels, honeymoon-phase, completely in love with snow. It’s so magical to have the streets all white
and stretching and feel the crunch underfoot!
I have
discovered, though, that while walking on thin snow equals joy, walking on thin ice equals FEAR. I’m convinced that I’m going to fall on my butt at least once this
year. And I’m sure that by April of senior year I’ll be pretty sick of it all,
but for now it’s incredible.
the first sticking snow fall just barely covering the ground
actual snow! on actual wreaths! outside an actual Whole Foods!
the middle school near Mac, with the field as-yet undisturbed
the view from my window
the light post decorations the city put up along Grand
this bench looks like it's wearing a fluffy hat...like a certain statue in a certain book (5 Schrute bucks to anyone who can guess the reference)
the most recent snow was so light and fluffy
and sparkly!
Last weekend
I decided to do some Christmas shopping on Grand Ave, accidentally on the day
deemed as the “Grand Venture”. That meant there was a Salvation Army bell on
EVERY CORNER (which makes it impossible to avoid that guilty feeling as you
walk past them. Because they’re everywhere. And some of them were children
singing. Or firefighters (not singing). AHHH!) and free trolleys stopping at
the bus stops. It also meant that all of the stores were extremely crowded, but
that some of them had sales! I did my shopping and then went to pick up a book
Dad had pre-ordered at The Red Balloon (an excellently named children’s
bookstore in Saint Paul), which turned out to be for me! It was Nimby: An Extraordinary Cloud Who Meets a
Remarkable Friend, which had been out of print until recently. And it’s one
of my favorite picture books of all time. It’s so atomic to finally own, so when I got back to my room I told
Charmaine about it all excitedly and told her to read it. She read the first
page and said, “This is clearly a book to be read aloud. I wish I was back
teaching summer camp. Or that someone would read it to me.” Then there was a
pause and she turned to me and said, “Will you
read it to me?” So I sat down in our chair and she sat down on the floor with a
cup of tea and I read her the book, which she loved (although she had some
problems with the mutability of the island, at which point I reminded her that
it was a magic island. (“It’s a magic toy store, Mutant! It can do all
sorts of things!”) That helped.).
That
afternoon, just as the snow began to fall, I realized that I needed to go back
to Grand to pick up one more present. Charmaine, upon hearing that, decided to
come along, so we went on a purple snow
ramble, upon which we discovered that the snow was incredibly light and fluffy
and magical.
Charmaine
tried making a snow angel (although the snow was a little too thin),
we drew
patterns in the snow on the tops of walls, and we sang Christmas carols
together into the frosty air.
On the way
back, the street lights were lit and the snow sparkled so intensely it was like
someone had spilled glitter in front of us. It was one of the more beautiful experiences
of my life, and it’s so nice that I have a roommate who loves snow and children’s
books and Christmas with the same childlike delight that I do.
Charmaine also
gave me a prickly Christmas present—CHRISTMAS
LIGHTS!! We finally put them up last weekend, while listening to the Carpenter’s
Christmas album (which she’s HEARD OF and LOVES) and trying not to fall off our
chair. It was fierce and fun and
made it finally feel like Christmas is actually coming.
We also
finally took our first picture together (which is a little crazy, since both of
us have ridiculously good cameras and love photography).
And now we
have a tiny Christmas plant that lives on my desk and drinks water from my cup
and is adorable (I’m sorry, but I just have to leave this here. My plant cannot
be described in any other word. It is adorable).
And
snowflakes in the window!
And because
this school is just like that, we also have Christmas lights adorning various
trees around campus.
I just want
to conclude by telling you that there are now gingerbread houses in Café Mac.
They’re pretty fluffy. There’s a
magic castle one,
a TARDIS
one,
and an Up-inspired one.
Despite the
unimaginable cuteness of this college, I can’t wait to be home. Only nine days
left!
Accidental artistic scarf picture.
The galaxy inside my camera lens.
P.S. The
number of mad libs adjectives necessary in this document is highly embarrassing.
Also rather amusing.
P.P.S. There
is a distinct possibility that I forgot to bold some of the mad libs adjectives—it
was an afterthought and there are only so many times I can stand to re-read my
own writing, so if something doesn’t really make sense, just assume it’s a mad
lib.
P.P.P.S. I
promise that the makers of Mad Libs aren’t paying me to say mad libs as much as
possible. I mean, would the makers of Mad Libs do such a thing? I’m sure that
anyone who invented Mad Libs must be kind and modest and incredible. (BUY MAD
LIBS)
