Bears. Beets. Battlestar Galactica.

"Pam--sorry--um, are you free for dinner tonight?"

"Yes."

"All right, then … it’s a date."

"I’m sorry, what was the question?"

. . . . . . . . . . .

Three. More. Days.

pause

It is fall. Fall. Falling leaves, cold currents, chilled sky. The moon is full and frozen over and the world is clearer than ever before. This is it; this is what it's all about, September and October and November. I could not be happier.

[And I have of course procrastinated all that dratted homework to savour just this moment of joy: windows open to the Halloween air and a mug of steaming chai at my side. It doesn't get much better than this.]

the boy who was better than books

Thursdays, some might say, are my Destiny Days. Everything good in the world seems to come together on this day, every moment seems a miracle. I've wondered sometimes if this is simply my own making, as I've long loved Thursdays simply for the name and the time they fall in the week. But whatever it may be, Thursdays always come through.

Today I had a brilliant morning hour of Italian, where for the first time all semester I felt as if I actually understood what was going on. I worked a busy two hours in the LRC and talked Kim Possible and Samauri Jack with Nefi. I took my first stab at Fellowing this afternoon and remembered why I applied in the first place. I spent a glorious hour discussing Mere Christianity and then another discussing Wales with the Study Abroad office. I was feeling pretty good, and it was only five o'clock.

Then I checked the mailbox. And there it was, a letter with a Napa return address, my name written out in perfect, slanting cursive. With this inside. Isn't it all you've ever looked for? Share your thoughts, guys: this is very 'us' and we should all have something to say!

What more to say but Thanks, Grandma Blue!!

phenomenon

You guys! You know the years you spend putting together skirts and sweaters and pants and pullovers? How, sometimes, we even set out our outfit the night before? Those days where you spend half an hour looking for that one Alphabet Zoo t-shirt because it's absolutely the only thing that will save your ensemble? Well, I seem to have moved past that.

That's not to say this new-found state will last, but for the time being I am enjoying a ridiculously easy time choosing clothing for the day. Every morning I pull a few choices out of my drawer or from my closet and put them together without a second thought. Sometimes I add a small accesory or try on two or three pairs of shoes before leaving my apartment, but other than that? No problem. Today I slipped on my turquoise pencil skirt and paired it with my hot pink Morocco print shirt without a worry as to whether it was too much of a color shock or not and walked to school in my white keds and a green sweater on my arm in case of cooler weather. Even a month ago I would have been overly self-conscious about this choice and the way people were sure to look at me.

But I could've cared less.

Now, this is a very new thing for me and you know what? I feel better. I literally feel better about myself and my physical appearance than I have in a long time. I feel like I walk taller, or smile wider, or see more clearly. And while I don't quite understand how this change came about or when exactly it started, I'd be more than happy to have it stay.

Of course, now that I think about it, this is probably all due to my Mum and her undeniable style.

and you planted roots down by the sea

It's a molasses morning in the Wilk today and I am at a loss for work. Sure, I have a few letters to write, maybe a journal entry or two to scribble out, but when it comes right down to it, it's eight in the morning. On a Saturday. Which is beautiful and bright and new and fresh but I am in an empty Lab with no windows and only the whirr of the air conditioner to keep me company. I am happy to be alone---I'm just not entirely keen on being so lonely.

So I'm going to tell you a story.

Once upon a time I had a friend who was named after the Queen's horse, among other things. We only saw each other for less than a year a few times a week and for an hour or two a day, but when I did get the chance to be with him, it was brilliant. He had this honest wit about him that was delightfully refreshing and ridiculously laugh-inducing; I couldn't help but look forward to his every conversation with a smile. Occasionally, he'd wear a trenchcoat, the classic film-noir type and a little bit goth. He had sharp, angled eyebrows and green, green eyes; a Puck-like smile that induced you to whatever mischief he'd cooked up. He was, in short, charming.

I haven't heard from him in a very, very long time and I can't help but wonder what he's up to now. Does he still have that trenchcoat? Can he still make me laugh? Has he died his hair bright blue yet?

That wasn't much of a story-story, I know. But I guess the message is this: I miss him. And you know what else? What a strange thing, missing. One word to mean so many different things. I miss the dovecote and I miss the sea, I miss the walk through Fairfax park and the house on Tipahi. But even that kind of missing is separate from the longing of a Hippolite laugh or an afternoon in 11th year drama. There are so many visual or sensual memories I miss, but I'd give them all up just to experience the emotional again, to feel that sense of being simply by being with them.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Three months, six days.

trying not to think about it

and failing miserably.

spiral jetty

further up & further in

Yes, I know: back already? But I forgot to mention that I've added another link along the side, a link to The Face of the Other, my CS Lewis professor's blog. If you haven't already, check it out: There's not much about Lewis specifically, but Professor Young's a most interesting fellow and an excellently entertaining writer. I've been to his class for all of two days and already I'm planning the rest of my undergraduate career around the classes he'll teach.

. . . . . . .

With Lewis on my mind, then, and a cup of tea to keep me company (Pomegranate Pizazz, no less), I'll take another homework break to allow some thoughts to breathe.

. . . . . . .

Our first assignment was to read, in the day between classes, The Screwtape Letters. I didn't think much of it---though I was excited, I've read it a few times before---but once again Lewis read like scripture and I found myself marking even more of the book than before. Each time I read a book I annotate in a different color---and Letters has now become a hodge-podge of black and pink and blue and a smattering of green. It is remarkable how each new reading brings out a new aspect of the book, and that you may never grow tired of words because they are forever changing as you grow. Of course there are always those small passages that, looking back on, you laugh at---how much more you understand now! To open a long-loved book, scribbled in and written over, is to understand the journey of self.

What I found in Letters this time around is a truth so simple and inherent in its being that to see it in print sends thunder to the soul. This time I found my colored pen fixed on the passages of Christ's mercy, and of his pure Love, and of his hope in us. There are too many instances to count, but of all the now-blue sentences, this one has stayed with me the most:

"When He talks of their losing their selves, He only means abandoning the clamour of self-will; once they have done that, He really gives them back all their personality, and boasts (I am afraid, sincerely) that when they are wholly His they will be more themselves than ever."

Simply in typing this in I feel there is no need to expound except to say that, if you really are wondering what to do with daylight, I recommend listening to Brooke Fraser's CS Lewis Song.

rah, rah, rah!

As you now know from the post below, I am sitting at my kitchen table, cozied up into the bay window's nook, telling myself that I can afford to blog because it is only six o'clock and I have all night to finish up my homework. I justify this not only because all my homework is reading, but because today marks the first time that I have been home before five and I therefore have extra hours to tie up loose ends. It is a rather marvelous feeling but altogether fleeting, as the minute I finish up here I'll realise that if I were really responsible I'd finish next week's homework tonight, too. Oh well.

So, school's back in session and the stress has set in nicely---I've already envisioned Finals Week in all its Glory and chances of recovery are slim, but attainable. This semester looks to be one of my biggest challenges yet, though it comes as an exciting challenge and one I am more than ready to get started on. Lucky for me, I was thrown right into it.

These past two days have been spent 10 to 10 on campus, studying and working and all things inbetween. I tackle Italian first thing in the morning (I have forgotten absolutely everything I've ever learned in that respect) and then am off to the Labs for my daily three-to-four hour shifts, and then, depending on the day, either move on to Writing Fellows and CS Lewis, or to Public Speaking. Each road is equally excellent; I have some of the finest teachers here and the best students to share them with. Tomorrow I have my "last new class," Judaism, and then I will have successfully survived the first week of my second year at university. I won't bore you with the details (it's likely you've already heard them), but already it's been quite the learning experience.

Simply being back on this campus is envigorating. You can quite literally feel the energy of thought and progress in its walls, and it is contagious. Yes, it's still completely overwhelming to be one amongst so very many and yes, Feelings of Inadequacy abound, but overall I wouldn't trade it for anything. I am busy, I am happy, I am full of the potential all around me. I love this place, this learning and this growing. It feels like everything is right with the world, that this place can be, to me, one of the many answers to the Eternal Yes. I've been waiting ages to put up my Room With a View header, and now seems the perfect place: Love! Joy! Beauty!

and crown thy good with brotherhood

I'm busy on another post for you, but this small moment can't be passed up:

. . . . . . .

There are boys outside my window playing baseball on the Quad, and while I've never been one to fully appreciate just why baseball is Our Nation's sport, there is something so reassuring seeing grown boys be boys---and so American, at that.

. . . . . . .

Right---back with more in a few!