The Wanderer

My Brit Lit professor assigned us The Wanderer for Monday. If you haven't read it, I highly recommend it. It's a short Old English poem by an unknown author, and it's beautiful. I won't deceive you. It's full of sorrow and loneliness, but in that melancholy, there's a beauty that reminded me of my river, the Mississippi. I had the sudden need to be near water and somewhere solitary where I could read the poem again aloud. I set out for the White House Nature Center and the Kalamazoo River.

Since I've arrived at Albion, I haven't left the campus. For one, I haven't had a need to. For two, I've been too busy to pursue it on my own time. Today, though, I finished all the reading I had for Monday with more than enough time to spare, so I just started walking, trying my best to picture the map of the area that's pinned to my bulletin board. Looking at it now, I was completely off, but I realized that the point of my wandering wasn't the destination, but the walking itself. Even though I didn't find the river, I did get to see a bit of Albion.

Here on campus, we're sheltered. The buildings are beautiful and well-cared for, and even the Greek houses nearby look like they belong in a wealthy suburb. Once you pass out of this world, the houses change. They become smaller, shabbier, faded . . . alive.

When first I came to Albion back in February, I was disgusted by the town. The houses are all needing paint, with junk and garbage lying in the front yards. Walking today allowed me a closer look at those same houses. This time, I didn't see junk or garbage, I saw newly planted flowers in lovingly tended gardens. Instead of chipped paint, I saw curtains hung in windows, cats guarding porches, and people buried under the hoods of their cars. I saw life! And for all I treasure and love the town of Marshall, MI with all it's pretty houses and historic pride, I realized something important today: Marshall is like an antique store; Albion is a home.

Social life: 2?

I have decided that I really like my philosophy professor. I wasn't sure when I left the class on Tuesday, but after today's class, I'm sure. Today's class proceeded how I predicted. It went for two hours, and it was full of discussions, and not stupid discussion, but really interesting, where-has-the-time-gone discussions. We nearly talked through our break. When we returned to class, the professor actually had to tell us to be quiet so she could talk about everything she wanted to discuss today. Yay! We're going to go back to the topic of extrinsic/intrinsic values when we meet again on Tuesday. I can hardly wait!

I ate all three meals with some mixture of the equestrian girls today. I don't talk a lot, yet, but that's not a horrible thing. I like just sitting and listening. Of course, the downside to this new-found social life is that I'm suddenly struggling to get all my homework done. When I ate alone, I would be in the dining hall for maybe 15 minutes, giving me plenty of time to curl up in a chair and read. Now I can spend up to an hour there just listening and enjoying their company. Hence, I'm here in the library at 9:30, instead of back in my dorm getting ready for bed. Oh well, the weekend will be here soon, and most people are from Michigan so they go home for the weekend. I should have plenty of time to get ahead for next week, hopefully with time left over to be lazy in the evenings. We'll see.

. . .

As I was sitting in the library absorbing the reading for my history class tomorrow morning, a guy sitting at another table was talking to people about parties, alcohol, and other things that I know aren't legal on this campus. He ended by commenting on how he wasn't doing very well in his classes. Hmm. I wonder why?

I knew that there would be parties in college. I knew there would be stupid people who drank too much and shouted obscenities at most unreasonable hours of the night. It's something that comes with the whole college experience. But I have to say that as I was crossing the Quad from the library to my dorm and thinking about this party atmosphere, I couldn't help but smile when I saw a group of guys and girls running barefoot across the Quad, dodging sprinklers while playing Ultimate Frisbee in the dark (they even had a light-up frisbee). It's good to know that there are at least a few people here who can enjoy innocent fun.

Schoolwork: 1, Social life: 1

The Stockwell Memorial Library

This is going to be a short post. I'm tired. I have more reading I have to do before my class tomorrow, and I've got an odd feeling in the back of my throat. Maybe I should've included Vitamin C in the supplements I brought with me. Tonight, short's not a big deal. It was the first repeat day. Today I had the same classes I had on Monday, so there's not much new to report. I still very much like my Brit lit professor. I'm not a huge fan of my professor for history. It could be the fact that I'm in a 100 level class, which are usually reserved for freshmen, but she seems very condescending. I asked a couple questions in class today (as I am prone to doing), and each time the she gave me my answer as though she thought my question was dumb. I hope that things change for the better once we get deeper into the class and she gets to know me better, but I have no expectations one way or the other.

Since I arrived here, I've eaten my meals alone. I don't really mind. There's not a lot of conversation you can have when you're trying to eat, and I like watching people, but I figured that after I began to meet people, I'd have a dining hall group to eat with. Today, during dinner, that group showed up. I met a lot of girls at the BBQ last night, among them were three equestrian club vets: Alyssa, Greer, and Kate. Well, when I went into the dining hall for dinner tonight, Alyssa bounced over (she's rather bouncy, not in a spirited way, just in a get things done quicker way) and invited me to sit with her, Greer, and Kate. I gladly accepted. It was a fun change. I don't fit in just yet, but they were friendly to me, without being that overly, faux friendly that some people can be. Instead, they were comfortable enough with me there that they could just be themselves. It was cool. I'm especially looking forward to joining the horse team now.

There is an event planned tonight and when I heard of it, I was very excited. I love the movie, The Hangover, and the Union Board (the club that determines all the entertainment that happens during the school year) arranged to show the movie on a huge, blow-up screen out on the Quad. It sounded like such a cool idea, but it started at nine, and I woke up with morning feeling off. The offness hasn't gotten worse during the day, but it hasn't gone away either. I bought Ricolas from the store even because they and water are the only things that make my throat feel better. I'm crossing my fingers that this is just allergies (I do have minor Fall ones that don't really show up back in Minnesota, but it's conceivable that the air here is different enough to affect me). We'll just have to wait and see for sure. In the meantime, I'm treating it like a cold and heading to bed at a reasonable hour, making sure I get plenty of sleep, drink plenty of water, and continue (ignoring the minor slip at dinner last night and lunch today) avoiding the soy, the dairy, and the sugar. It's a little tricky, but it got easier today after Alyssa showed me where they hide the olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Yum.

Internet difficulties

from the office door of the one of the librarians

So, last night, I did in fact have a blog post written and ready. It was very well written, despite the warning at the beginning that I used up all my creativity writing the first paper I had due today. However, unforeseen circumstances (specifically the crashing of the server and the lack of internet power the fourth floor of this building holds after 9) caused the website to refuse to load, and finally delete the entire blog. The first time, I had the foresight to copy what I wrote. The second time, I wasn't so smart, and decided that it was already too late to try to write it again. Hence, I am here, early in the day, to record the happenings of yesterday.

Yesterday, I was introduced to the last two new classes I had on my schedule: Ethics & Public Policy and the Faulkner Seminar. Ethics was first. My professor is a small Indian woman named Bindu Mahdok. I can't explain why, but she's exactly the sort of person I picture as a philosophy professor. I'm looking forward to this class, because all eighteen of us taking it are either philosophy or poli-sci majors. There should be some really interesting discussions, if the first class was anything to go by.

Normally, Tuesday's philosophy class will run for two hours, providing plenty of time for discussion and lecture. Plus we're also supposed to do two presentations during the semester, and these two hours will allow enough time for that, as well. This week, though, the two hour class was shifted to Thursday, so yesterday's schedule was what I was used to. Still, despite having all this time between my philosophy class and the Brit Lit class, I don't think I really got any work done. The funny thing is I'm not entirely sure why I didn't get anything done, because I don't remember doing anything else. Huh. Weird.

Speaking of 'weird,' thanks to Beowulf, I learned that 'weird' derives from the Old English word wyrd which means fate. How 'bout that? I actually learned something and it's only day three!

Anyway, back to day two. I failed to mention the interesting adventure I had before philosophy. (This is what happens when I try to recreate a lost journal entry. Things end up all over the place, kind of like oral story-telling. The speaker's telling the story, gets to a part and realizes that he forgot to say something significant earlier, so randomly he changes directions, adds the piece of importance, and then goes on from there. I hope you're enjoying the rollercoaster ride.) Remember how I said that I was excited because I had two classes in the same room? How my history and philosophy classes are both in Robinson 202? Well, I lied, only I didn't know I lied until yesterday morning. I got to Robinson 202 early and ended up curling up on a couch and taking a short nap before class started. I was just about to go into the classroom, when a fellow student showed up and said that her government class had been moved to Robinson 202 at the same time my philosophy class was supposed to be in the same room. I felt obliged to double check. Well, I was half right. My class is in room 202, just in Vulgamore 202, not Robinson. Oops.

And, back to after Brit Lit: the long awaited Faulkner Seminar. Of all the professors I've had so far, most of them haven't really struck a cord. I like my Brit Lit teacher, Ian MacInnes. Imagine a book worm who looks like he belongs in the special collections section of a library then stick a green cardigan-disguised-as-a-sport-coat and a badly tied tie on him, and hit the fast-forward button whenever he speaks then you'll have Prof. MacInnes. He's a lot of fun. I don't by any means dislike any of my teachers, but previously I wasn't attached to any of them. Then I met my Faulkner professor. The moment she began talking, I knew I wanted to take another class from her. How to describe her . . . she would clearly rather be reading a book than anything else, she doesn't like to lecture, but she loves to share her passions with people who will take the time to listen to her especially if they're interested in her passions, as well (and Faulkner is definitely one of her passions). She's quiet. I couldn't imagine her teaching a bigger class than the six or so students in this seminar. But there's something about the way she speaks that makes everyone want to be quiet and listen. But she's scattered, planless. Writing all this, I don't really know what about her makes me like her so much. I just do. Homework-wise, though, she's a bit ruthless. We have to read Was and The Fire and the Hearth by tomorrow (Thursday). A hundred and twenty-four pages. Yikes. What am I doing here?


I'm not this fancy, but this is dressage.

The last thing that occurred yesterday was a welcome BBQ at the barn. The equestrian club was throwing a get-to-know-us for the first-year students who are interested in the teams or just in horses. It was fun, and very informative. The hunt seat team (jumping a horse over colorful fences without knocking anything over), which I wanted to be on, has shows every single weekend. The dressage team (imagine ballet, now imagine a horse doing it) both needs people and only shows three or so times a year. This is my first semester here. I'm just learning where things are and how things are done. Plus, I'm an English/philosophy major, which means nothing but reading and papers. For all that I love jumping, and love the craziness of a hunt seat show, I think more craziness isn't really what I need right now. Besides, I do love the elegance and prestige of dressage almost as much as the action of the jumping world. Basically, as long as I can be on a horse and have an opportunity to make nationals, I'm happy.

Now, time to dive back into Faulkner...and Beowulf...and ethics...and Latin American history...*sigh* Good-bye free time.

Familia & Beowulf

I woke up at 8 this morning to the electronic drone of my roommate's alarm clock. My first thought was what happened to my alarm clock? The night before, I set it to go off at 7:30, but I never heard it. Well, the answer was fairly simple. I forgot to change the time zone . . . again (see Wingless Soar). I guess it was lucky that my roommate and I have class at the same time.

I managed to get up and get out with enough time to have a quick breakfast and still make it to my first class with time to spare.

 . . .

I apologize. I'm distracted. My roommate is watching tv and I keep typing the words that their saying on the show. So, if my language suddenly resembles the vocabulary of a teenage girl with boyfriend and best friend issues, now you know why.

My first class of the day was Modern Latin American history in Robinson Hall. Unlike what most people were expecting for the first day of class, the professor didn't simply hand out a syllabus, spend a few minutes going through the text, and then release us early. Instead, Professor Kanter, a small Chicago woman with a Russian Jewish background, started showing us photos from different times in Latin America's history and asked us to determine where the photograph was set, when, why, and who was in the picture or what the people's relationship was to each other. In every case, the theme was family, because it was and still is such an important part of Latin American culture. It was an interesting exercise because it forced me to pay attention to the details behind the picture. What are the people wearing? Is there a city behind those pictured or are they indoors? Is it an engraving, a picture, or a photograph? I never thought of those aspects of visual works. Now every time I see a picture, I can't help but ask these questions. I guess that's a good thing.

My second class wasn't until after noon, so I spent the hours between classes in my study spot, well, studying. I guessed right on which text was the main one for my history class, so I had already read the introduction that was assigned for Wednesday. But that wasn't the only thing assigned, so I had plenty of things to read. I was even able to have a small conversation with a freshman named Jerry who was a political science major and history minor. Turned out his younger sister's name was also Nora.

From my Brit Lit classroom

British Literature I began at 2:10 in Vulgamore Hall (which I keep wanting to call Voldamort Hall), and it was the class people were expecting. We received our syllabi, went through it, and were dismissed with the assignment to read the first ten pages of the introduction (which smart me did on Saturday : D ) . . . and the first 1250 lines of Beowulf . . . by tomorrow . . . At least the poem is interesting and I didn't have to read it in Middle English or Old English.

At 6:30, after six hours of total studying, I was ready for tomorrow and mostly ready for my Wednesday history class. I still have a short paper to write, and I need to memorize all the countries of Latin America and their capitals. And yet, here I am still up at midnight. *sigh* So it begins . . .

Good-bye laziness

Classes begin tomorrow. At 9. No late night for me tonight, hence I'm writing this at a much more reasonable hour.

Today was the day for people to get their books, and for those of us who like to enter class knowing a little bit of what to expect, it was the day to curl up in a chair or couch or bed and read. We transfers only had one session to attend today. One about sexual assault and sexual harassment. I was expecting another comedian or a stern, long-winded lecture. Instead, my college once again surprised me. The guest speaker was an attorney (so he was a very good speaker) and right away he told us that he wasn't going to stand up there and tell us what the difference was between date rape and drunk sex. No, he was going to stand up there and present to us a case he once prosecuted as though we were the jury, and it was our job to decide whether the defendant was guilty of sexual assault or not. It led to a very interesting debate, because after telling us the facts of the incident, he answered questions, and finally, after we voted, he had people stand up and tell us why we chose guilty or not guilty. I was pleasantly surprised how many of the immature freshmen believed that the guy in the story was guilty. It certainly wasn't a straight forward case. There was no violence, just poor judgement and a few (5!) too many Everclear Jello shots. At the end of the attorney's speech, someone from the college stood up and read the fine print. Releasing us with the warning that every year someone on this campus accuses someone else of sexual assault or harassment. Lovely. Not that I'm worried. The innocent KC events are enough of a party for me. I have no intention of going anywhere near the frats in the area. I can hear their music just fine from my safe little dorm room, so all you adults reading this, put down your phones and release that breath before your faces turn any more red.

I spent the rest of the afternoon until dinner studying for the classes I have on Tuesday, having already begun the books for my Monday classes. One of those Tuesday classes I'm really looking forward to is a Faulkner seminar. I started reading both The Sound and The Fury and As I Lay Dying, and I'm finding both of them fascinating! His way of writing takes a little getting use to. He's not so inclined to use description, but relies on dialogue to let the reader know what's going on, at least that's how it is in The Sound and The Fury. I'm looking forward to reading more, but not today. Tonight there are no events planned, so I'm going to use my last free evening before classes start to watch some T.V. and eat saltless popcorn. Yum?

Is it really only day two?

Yes, I am going to writing every day. Or I'm going to try. If you don't want to follow every day of my life, I will post a weekly digest on Sundays summarizing the week. Not this Sunday, because that would be a summary of three days and silly. But starting next week, check Sundays for the digest.

How can it only be the end of day two? I feel so comfortable here that it seems like I've been here for weeks. People see me on the Quad or in the halls and address me by name, saying 'hey' as though they've known me for a semester, not only a day. It seems like it should be weird, awkward, confusing, but I'm feeling none of those emotions (because you can't feel, as Jemma is no doubt thinking). But it's more than that. When I'm feeling emotionless, I'm waiting for something. I'm tense, and my mind is running a thousand thoughts a minute. I'm preparing, anticipating. This, this isn't like that. This isn't a quiet before the storm this is . . . this is peace. This is knowing that I belong here. Because there isn't a doubt in my mind to the contrary. In two days, nay, in one day, this place has become my home.

Anyway, today.

It cooled off nicely during the night, but I still was unwilling to climb beneath my heavy comforter. It wasn't quite that chilly . . . yet. Despite the hum of the two fans placed strategically in the room, it was too quiet and I dug out my iPod, fumbled in the dark until I could locate my headphones and went back to bed with the Red Hot Chilly Peppers cooing in my ear. I woke up several times during the night. I'm not sure why. I never woke up and wondered where I was. I feel at home here. I wasn't too hot. I just would wake up. Still, when my growling stomach finally drove me out of bed around 11:30 (it was not pleased that I slept through breakfast), I was refreshed despite the restless night.

My first and only session of the day was at one, so I had plenty of time to eat a leisurely lunch and pick up my textbooks from the bookstore—somehow my $400 worth of books fit neatly into an average sized shipping box—before the session began. Of course, being the over-achiever that I am, I brought one of my books with me, reading about Latin America as I walked from my dorm, up the steps beside the dinning hall, and across the Quad to the chapel.

Today's session was about discrimination. Or that was what it was supposed to be about. Actually, it was more about listening to people and taking the time to acknowledge those you walk by on the street or in the hallway. Once again, my campus found a very interesting speaker. He is a theater major named Mikey Something who goes from school to school giving this talk, much as Randi did yesterday. He started out funny, pulling people in, then suddenly, his message became clear: remember that sometimes what society says you're supposed to do is not always what you need to do. For example, you're around a friend who is making fun of someone because they are gay or Mexican or Muslim. Well, what you're supposed to do in honor of your friend is laugh right along with him/her. But what you need to do is speak up. Tell him/her that what they are doing is rude/immature/discriminatory. More than a few of the rowdy freshmen sitting in front of me dropped their heads (and yes, a few dropped their heads over cell phones, but not all of them had cells in hand). I think the message got across once again.

I didn't return directly to my dorm after. I had a book with me! Instead, I went in search of some of those cozy, quiet study places I was introduced to by Sean, the tour guide my dad and I had back in February. I slipped into the KC (the student center) and climbed up four flights of oak-colored wooden stairs as quietly as I could in flip-flops. When I reached the top, I opened the door onto a perfect little nook cradled by comfy chairs and a couch. A large half-circle window bathed the area in rainy sunlight. It is now my favorite study spot.

Eventually, I came to a stopping point in the Latin America book, and with a shelf-full of other books to read, I headed back to my dorm to gather the next book from my Monday classes: The Broadview Anthology of British Literature, volume 1, The Medieval Period. My roommate was watching T.V. in our dorm, which was fine. I planned on reading in the large common room that all the dorms on this floor surround. I figured it would be a good place to meet people, if any people felt so obliged to come over and say 'hi.' I did become re-acquainted with the two of the three fellow Mitchell residence I met on the morning I moved it. Liz is on the same floor as me and I was able to meet her roommate, Chrissy (I think that's her name), who Olivia (who is not in this building) said was the girl to know on campus because she headed the campus tours for freshmen and new students. The one guy I knew, Ken, was also there, but he's two floors down from me. From how much I ran into him today, though, I don't think it will be hard to keep in touch. After that, I was left uninterrupted. People passed me, but they kept apologizing for disturbing me. I guess studying isn't the way to invite people to strike up a conversation.

Peppermint lip balms

Tote bag

The day ended with a carnival, of sorts. Around 8, I trudged back over to the KC and was forced to wait for several minutes before the carnival actually opened, even though it was scheduled to start at eight. Albion time, as Ken told me the first day. A little like homeschooler time, it seems. Anyway, the carnival was fun. I made lip balm from peppermint extract so it feels like Burt's Bees, which I love but can't use because it has soybean oil in it. I also made a tote bag. Well, no, correction, I designed a tote bag. There was no assembly required. The line for designing a tote bag was very long and moved very slowly. That was actually okay, because it gave me time to meet a freshman named Karry (pronounced Katy). She's from New York, the Bronx, specifically, and was recruited to come to Albion. She's also a psychology major (Alesha, my roommate, is the other one I know) and wants to start a business where she can work completely one-on-one with people, but she's not sure if she is able to do it. We spent the whole evening together: designing totes, making another lip balm, attempting to play Sorry, and enjoying a competitive couple of games of Connect Four. Finally, I walked her back to her dorm and we talked about college. In the end, we exchanged numbers and are quite possibly going to study together. Look at that. Day two and Nora has already made a friend.

What could her last free day before classes start possibly bring?