a day of firsts

I would like to apologize to all my faithful readers (yes, both of you) for the recent barrenness of my blog. It’s not that I haven’t had a million things to write about (okay, maybe only 999,999). For the last week or so, though, it seems that my mind, heart, and body have not once been on the same page. Nay, but rather they appeared to be island-hopping, and each had its own unique itinerary. It felt a bit like that Whose Line game where at all times one of the players has to be standing, another sitting, and the third lying down. Sometimes I think the distant stars themselves have been juggling these three parts of me. And I’m the monkey in the middle. That is, what’s left of me that isn’t being tossed among the galaxies. So I’ve been up and down and all over the place, really, both emotionally and mentally (which really are inextricable, if you ask me). The ups and downs themselves haven’t been the most intense that I’ve experienced, but the transitions between them have been considerably more rapid and more dramatic than normal. The resulting disorientation, dizziness, and general confusion has left me unable to organize my thoughts into a coherent post (as if coherency were a prerequisite to posting). So, despite the fact that writing is often one of the best remedies for emotional-roller-coaster-nausea, it was, alas, inaccessible to me for several days because my neurons had gotten so mixed up that they couldn’t figure out how to deliver the prescription to the pharmacist. Hence the delay. Now that I am feeling slightly more stable, I take this dose less as treatment than as a preventative measure, to keep myself from jumping into another sickening tilt-a-whirl. (I really do not find roller coasters or tilt-a-whirls nauseating. In fact, I think them to be quite exhilarating and would not mind a trip to Hershey Park or King’s Dominion just about any day. But I thought that the metaphor fit nicely. Feel free to disagree. On either point.)

That said, allow me to offer an update with a little(?) capsule of (my) university life.
On Friday, the 31st of March, 2006, I:

(1) woke up on the living room couch (big surprise) after having fallen asleep there at about 3 am. Middle toe of my right foot was feeling a little sore (again). You know how some people clench their jaws (especially while sleeping) when they’re stressed? Well, I think I have started doing that with my toes. On my right foot only.

(2) got to my Latin class five minutes late. My teacher looked pretty annoyed but handed me a quiz anyway, which I quickly filled out (and on which, I later realized, I totally screwed up one of the questions). It was the second time this week that I arrived late and had to rush through a quiz. In fact, those were the only two times I went to Latin this week. Matched my attendance for the previous week. Sometimes I am a horrible student.

(3) went to my literature class, where we listened to a recording of Miguel de Unamuno reading an excerpt from his writing about the possibility of achieving immortality through the written word. Then we chatted about metafiction, which is a preferred topic of mine and so I actually knew what was going on, despite how distressingly far behind I am in the reading for that class. Direct quote from my professor: “When the new scriptures show up–because I really think they will, I’m just waiting for them–if Nephi is playing Grateful Dead tunes, we know they’re messing with us.” I’m so glad to associate with professors who aren’t afraid to say things like that. I first had a class with this particular teacher during my first semester here. I think that first impression has a lot to do with my generally favorable view of this university.

(4) picked up a couple of books related to my translation project at the library. Exited through the east doors onto Brigham square, where I had been told by a friend that there would be a public protest. (This is not a big deal in most university communities, to be sure, but here, it’s pretty big news.) The issue was, specifically, the recent firing of a university employee after he wrote a letter (it is the second one down) to the university’s newspaper exposing the corruptness of student elections, then refused severance pay which would have required him to retract his letter and keep his mouth shut. More generally, the idea is that the university administration makes it very difficult for students and employees to express their concerns and suggestions for change, undermines the very integrity which the institution was built upon by essentially offering bribes to keep dissenters quiet, and nourishes a culture of fear of speaking up and expressing one’s views (this is not the first time an employee has been dismissed under such circumstances). If you are interested, you can read about the event here or here. I approached the scene cautiously, as I had mixed views about the event and, to be honest, I feared the repercussions of getting involved in an illegal protest (since all protests are illegal here unless given prior nigh-impossible-to-obtain permission). It looked pretty peaceful to me, and, having spotted a handful of friends in the group, I inched closer and before I knew it I was standing inside a chalk circle, being offered an apple by a philosophy professor who had taken it upon himself to feed the protestors (note to self: take class from him). It turns out that the protest had been approved that morning after an article about it appeared on the front page of the local paper. The organizers had planned to go ahead with it anyway; this way, they (and we) feared no punishment and achieved a little triumph in the effort to get the administration to let us speak (though the speech was a bit garbled through the duct tape). It was sort of exhilarating to be a part of it. I think I’m finally beginning to understand the passionately political aspect of humanity.

(5) walked with B and a friend of his who, on our way to the store to buy bagels, proceeded to pluck a dandelion flower from the lawn and to eat it. She did it so casually that I didn’t even notice until B complained that she hadn’t shared, and I looked and sure enough, the yellow blossom was gone. I had never seen anyone eat a dandelion before. I still haven’t, really.

(6) watched the latter half of a film about Guatemalan immigrants in the US. Pretty intense film (aka the good kind). And I complain that my life is hard.

(7) played hacky-sack for the first time in my life. Yes, I grew up in this country. Yes, I went to public school. Come to think of it, I even owned one or two at some point. I don’t know what I did with them. Anyway, I’m pretty bad at it, but it was still fun.

(8) examined the floor tiles in the Kennedy Center. (Funny that Saule Cogneur also mentioned floor tiles yesterday. Though I doubt that his experience with them has been quite like mine.) In case you are interested (and even if you are not), the checkerboard pattern on each tile is composed of 38 by 38 squares, half of which are raised squares made up of either 12 or 15 dots (it seems there was some irregularity in the stamp or whatever formed the pattern).

(9) walked home as it was just beginning to rain. I love that smell.

(10) went to a concert put on to raise awareness about the human rights disaster in Burma, where I shook it like a polaroid and wrote my first letter to a senator. Ran into a lot of friends from as many different contexts. Met some new ones. I think I have managed to stumble into the crowd of cool kids. It feels great.

(11) re-discovered why and how much I really like him. I refuse to accept that nothing will ever happen between us, even though (almost) everything tells me that’s the truth. It doesn’t feel so great. In fact, it hurts. A lot.

(12) watched a few episodes of Arrested Development as a temporary remedy. Did not omit the necessary mug of hot chocolate. Fell asleep on the window seat. Naiad woke me up and sent me to bed, where I proceeded to sleep for another nine hours or so. I needed it. It was an exhausting day.

Wow. If you are still reading this, please accept my congratulations. And go take a nap or something. I know I am exhausted. So there you have it: a day in the life of Skylark. It was no ordinary day, I admit, but still I think it is fairly representative of the way my life is going these days. And, I hope, it is an indication of the way it is headed for the near future. I shall keep you updated, both more frequently and more briefly, I hope.