Nothing montumentally great happened but the past 18 hours have been marked with many small joys that, compounded, make eachother seem greater, (God seem lovlier) and the whole journée sweeter and sweeter.
I wanted to focus this blog on the phrase, "my professor gets me," but the joy of that moment is connected to so many other moments that now I need to re-think whether I am ready to open the floodgates. I met some new people tonight (three!) and I remember all their names and faces! Yes! This is especially wonderful to me becuase I was thinking tonight in particular that part of my responsibility of being an upper-year student familiar with all things C4C, Guelph and university is meeting new people. This is how churches stay alive (that and people have babies). This is how I resist cliques. [Editor's note: it is pronounced "cleek". It is French.] This is how I stretch myself and how I return the favor of all those upper year folk who talked to me during my first year (a heck of a lot! now that I think about it) and I am ever grateful to them.
I met these girls, I like them and I will remember them. Whoop-to-the-ee.
Also tonight I made a friend of mine laugh in a sneaky, crunchy way. I can't even describe it but it was almost raunchy. It was delectable, I'd say. Maybe we could call it borderline laughter. You know how some things are funnier because they are forbidden? It's exactly that kind of laughter, exactly that.
I sure got validated a few times today. I wonder if people might stamp a card for me. One professor - the one who "gets" me - was willing to answer a question after lecture that was NOT directly related to his class and not only did he patiently endure my muddled and rushed words, he finished my thought, showing me that he understood what I was saying and that he agreed with me. This is no trivial point either. In an alternate universe, we would WAY be friends. Also in the alternate universe, I might WAY be my other professor. Our brains seem to work the same in an obscure & uncanny way and so far it has only yielded good times. A 14th-century French (essentially European) mode of composing, the ars subtilior, is mannered like post-modernism. "Yes, that's true.... yes, that's a good connection to make.. it's like they push something to the furthest extent it can go and then abandon it -hahhaha. Yes, that's a great connection to make... [way to think about it]." She had this look on her face that was a mix of surprize, teacherly pride and something else. I was thinking that the modes were both "weird for the sake of weird" though I know that is a very trite way to describe p-m'ism.
In that first class I mentioned, I had an assignment due and I started working on it approximately 17 hours before the submission deadline. (Hmm .. "submission deadline" is that like the "I do" moment for women?) No, that's not true, I did about two hours of preparation the day it was assigned which was two days before it was due. I kinda like this two-day assignment deal. You pretty much start working AT the last minute. Glory. I prayed that same ol' prayer I have prayed a million times since grade 7 (give or take a few years) that I would not slack off, - in later years - that I would not fall asleep (or pretend to "nap") and that I would NOT get myself into this position again. I am not faithful to my prayers as my GPA might tell you. Anyways, this time I worked at the libs for about 2 hours then came home at 10 o'clock. I tooked a shower, eated, watched some tele and all of a sudden it was midnight. (Owch.) I thought, How do I keep doing this? It is such a regular thing for me. When something is due, I don't go to sleep before midnight, probably not before 2 and often not before 4 or 5. I'm cool with that because I likes the night but when I get tired and I know I won't wake up easily and the work is not finished, I start getting scared. "Scared" is the word for it. This time the H-Spizzo disguised itself as my inner voice and said, "Don't let your past failures cripple what you're about to do," and I was like FO' SHEEzy. I turned a corner. I turned a corner. I don't understand how I stayed so focussed, I don't understand how the assignment worked out so well I very MUCH don't understand how I even got up at 7 when I went to bed at 5.30 (who does that??) and how I made it through three classes and two appointments without nodding off or even feeling tired. Oh and apparently I'm still fertile.
That second appointment, the man I saw about the horse, was pretty nift. I was feelin the nerves a bit but I stopped by the altar to drop of a few things ("a few" in this case meaning "every-") and told Jesus He had to walk in before me. I kinda pushed Him with my extended arms and grabbed onto his cloak as I shuffled in, peeping from around his hips, every now and again. The editor said he'd sell me the horse ... oh and publish my article. I uh.... I don't really know what to say about that. :
The first class of the day was prety awesome because the discussion went deeper than I would have expected, especially because our regular Teaching Assistant was absent and so we were with a girl we'd never met before. It started off shaky but eventually got into outside-the-classroom greatness that doesn't come around so often.
My pet project has offically taken off and I am excited with the degree of professionalism I get to work with. God did a little of His sneaky confirmation business (the, "Here, I'll make details x, y and z work out for you," thing where x, y and z happen to be the foundation, the first floor, second, roof and trimmings and z is the passion. Hmm, yea, OK I'll do the "rest" of the work...).
The day finished with greatness and just a sprinkling of disappointment: I ate one of my new fLavorite foods but couldn't make it to 2 am (scandal!) to watch Smallville. I need to learn how to rent season DVDs. That would be easier on my 08h30 classes. Here is the food:
froot (grapz, banans and strawbs) +
apple and the cinnamon garganzola +
peach yoghurt---
Yesterday I wandered into the Bullring to do some work and wonderful guitar strains made their way into my ear. The weirdest part is that I know this guy; I've known him for 3 or 4 years now but I had never heard him play until a week ago. Now he's on stage and playing again, just him, and I can't believe how great he is. Talk about soul... how do you extract so much goodness from six strings and a box of wood? I had just opened my book and then I hear some singing and my first thought was, "There's only one person on stage!" and then I turn to behold one of those "double-threat" guys. Ai.. I cannot even describe to you... I won't try. But I will post what I was inspired to write:
flat three
flatten me
you twitch and
squirm like a
robin’s worm
as every turn
and strum and um
… each word or
strain, vocal run and
sprain
tries its hardest,
flambés the artist
to hold the
music or
boldly peruse it,
refusing quiet.
how is it,
I inquisit,
that in a room of
90 ears
it appears
no one fears
- like I - to
miss a note
or tears (they
cry) to
try to
permanently quote
it all, lest it fall to
forgotten-ness
or worse than this:
mediocre-ness.
does it hurt
when you flirt
with laryngitis?
it aint right,
this explosion
or expressive
implosion
of greatness-
can’t fake this.
forget training,
rehearsed straining,
feigning propriety,
clear notes and
piety: in an hour’s
concert fling,
you re-taught me
how to sing.
15h34 02/11/06
8 comments:
OK, I'll be the first to say it:
I am WAY weird.
not at ALL what i was going to say. i wanted to say:
1. way to fight out cliques, which are definitely pronounced with a "long e" sound.
2. if i were you, i'd be mega-pumped by the prof/student bonding/understanding moment (which you seem to be). they are rare and beautiful.
3. i like the way you write about talking to God.
4. what article is getting printed in what medium!?
5. what's your pet project?
6. food looks de-LISH-ous
7. i love your spoken word style poetry. you have this amazing rhythm thing going on that makes me want to close my eyes and fall asleep. except that then i couldn't finish reading the poem, which clearly i had to do.
8. in my head, i'm trying to explain how much i like you and am fascinated by you...but it's falling short.
My answer two both numbers 4 and 5 is: I can't tell you that.
you have to. if not here, then in email. unless you are going to MAIL me a magazine/paper with your article in it. or your pet project is to greet me at the airport on dec. 3 with a string band and four-part harmonizing choir.
otherwise i'll....do something. rash and radical and treacherous.
Nope.
i like it!
Thanks, Stéfanie..
Looking at paragraphs 7, 8 and 10, I see how this day is/was unstoppably good because I had interactions directly with the H Spizzo, G-sus and God the father (He doesn't have a cool name, apparently). What a... good balance.
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