110037799876883829

Another week to recap.

Saturday night, I went to see “A Play for Every Day” at the chapel. It was put on by a predominantly Jewish theater group, the Weekday Players (they don’t meet on the Sabbath, so Jewish people can do theater without it going against their religion.) I ran into Dan, Andy, Emily, and Andy’s friend, all from the hall, so it was nice to not be alone. The play was actually seven one-act plays, one for each day of the week (though they weren’t specific, like, one happened on Monday). I really enjoyed it. Chanan, from my HH class, was in two of them. In the last play, “Degas, C’est Moi”, he played a man who lived his day pretending to be Degas. He went to a museum and defended “his” work; he signed his unemployment paperwork as Degas. It was great.

I really don’t remember what I did on Sunday, but it was probably just homework. Stupid seventy pages of reading for ARHU.

On Tuesday, I originally had a psyc exam and an Honors essay due, but those both got canceled. In psyc, we watched Quiet Rage: The Stanford Prison Study. Let me just say, whoa. In the 70’s in California, a psyc researcher decided to build a mock prison in the basement of the psyc building and hold volunteer college students there. He wanted to study how people react to loss of privacy, arbitrary authority, and imprisonment. The study was supposed to last for two weeks, but they had to end it after six days because of what happened. Long story short, the prison became too real. The students selected to be guards became sadistic and cruel, and were genuinely upset when the experiment was cut off early. The prisoners showed signs of psychological trauma, with one breaking out in hives; they truly felt like they were in prison indefinitely. The professor got so caught up in it, not even he could see what was happening and how terrible and unethical the experiment was; his grad student and future wife had to point it out to him. Dozens of people visited the mock prison during those six days, and not one of them until that grad student said a word to stop it. Really, I wasn’t surprised. It reminded me of The Wave. People are crazy creatures.

Tuesday night, I went to see “The Trojan Women.” I had free ARHU tickets and a few hours to spare for some culture, so I went. I wound up going to that one with Sara, Alex, Alli, and Maggie, and we saw Chanan and Grace there. It was a really sad play of the story of the surviving women of Troy, including Hecuba and Hector’s wife Andromache. Very sad, but very well done. Worth my time. I love being across the street from CSPAC; there’s so much more incentive to go.

My story was up for discussion on Thursday. I was so nervous. My stories are like my children. I didn’t know if I was ready to let that one out into the world. The class took it really well, though. It was different from any of the stories we’d read up to then, which we all liked. It begs the question, though, would my story be as different-good if it was part of a group of stories of that vein? I got a lot of constructive comments to work with, too. The main element of my story wasn’t quite as clear as it should have been. I have until finals (the end of the semester is in sight – yay!) to revise it and resubmit it, but just to my teacher this time. I’m really proud of it.

Yesterday, I woke up to rain and cold. I could see how hard it was raining, and I was so tired. I should have stayed my lazy, breakfast-loving butt in bed. But I wanted breakfast too much to stay in bed. And I have never taken a personal holiday. So I got up, went out, and almost instantly regretted it. It was so cold, very windy, and rainy. I had to keep switching umbrella-holding hands so my fingers wouldn’t freeze. My socks started getting wet right away. I wear my running shoes all the time; they’re comfortable and pretty versatile, so usually that’s all I need. This particular pair sucks. I’ve had them since last fall, but I wore them so seldom at first that I thought I could get some more mileage out of them. The first time we had a really hard rain and I had to make my twenty-minute treks to class in those shoes, I discovered that they leak. Wet socks are my pet peeve.

I fought through geography discussion, then sat for the library in a hour, reading before lunch. After lunch, I went to math class. One of the reasons I wanted to stay in bed was because I kind of could. I did my geography presentation last week, and I predicted we’d only be going over the math stuff I’d read in the book. I was mostly right. Math was a total waste of time. We did have “reading check” question again in geography, though, so that made going worthwhile. Still. My time is important.

Yesterday evening, I went over to Greg’s house. We got McDonald’s on the way down (yum, but the fries were so much smaller than the dining hall fries, and therefore seemed unusually small), then rented movies at Blockbuster. We watched Two Can Play That Game first, which was Greg’s pick, and a pretty good movie. It got really late, and he didn’t want to drive home, so I was stuck there, which sucked. He fell asleep while we watched The Breakfast Club. I would have gone to sleep, too, but I wanted to watch that. It was a really good movie. I’ve always wanted to watch the Brat Pack 80’s classics, since I was either not born yet or much too young to have seen them while they were recent. I saw the “Breakfast Club” episode of Dawson’s Creek, so I was on the lookout for what they’d copied, and so much of it was there. I could see the moral coming, but the obviousness didn’t make it any less great.

I got back to UMD around 10:00 this morning. I was too awake to go back to sleep, which isn’t good because The Breakfast Club didn’t end until 3am. So I ironed and went to take a shower, only to find that we had no hot water. I cannot take cold showers. That much cold water makes it near-impossible for me to breathe, just like when I have wind blowing in my face. It was possibly the worst shower I have ever taken, including the flashlight shower during Hurricane Isabel. Later, I found out that my building, another in this community, and the Diner are all without hot water. It was styrofoam-and-plastic-only in the Diner. I hate using styrofoam, but you gotta eat. They still had trays out, though. I guess they can rinse those with cold water… which is kind of icky because you need hot water or steam to really get anything clean. I ate breakfast with Andrew, which was nice because not only did I have a yummy Testudo Belgian waffle, but I had someone to eat with.

Now I’m back, wasting time in which I should be doing homework… or researching the psyc paper that’s due in a few weeks. Ugh.

Friday Five
1) Realistically, where do you think you’ll be five years from now? What job will you be working, will you have family/friends/pets, where will you be living and how? I hope to be two years out of college by then, but at least one year (if it takes me five years to finish my degree(s), which I hope won’t happen). I want to start teaching as soon as I’m out of school. I hope I’ll have friends, because having no friends sucks. When I see adult friendships (Two Can Play That Game, orSex and the City, even though I’ve never actually seen the latter), I hope that my adult life will be like that. I don’t plan on having a family before I’m married, and I don’t want to marry until I’m secure (emotionally and financially) on my own enough to attempt that partnership. I used to think that I could never live with someone, but if I found someone like Jenny, I think I’d be happier.
2) Unrealistically, given a perfect life, where do you want to be five years from now? PerfectLife!Lindsay would only write. I would have as much time as I needed to write comfortably, with no other responsibilities. … Whoa. I want to be J.K. Rowling!
3) What’s the big barrier keeping number one and two separate and distinct, or is there one? Money. Like I read in my Stephen King book, On Writing (you knew it wasn’t going to be, like, The Shining), very few writers make a living by writing alone. My goal in life is to live like my parents, which means I’ll have to make some money instead of just writing all the time. It’d be lovely, but it’s just not realistic.
4) Utterly and completely abandoning realism, make up where you’ll be in five years. Alien abductions and portals to alternate universes are encouraged. AU!Lindsay… I don’t know, would have supernatural abilities, like stopping/stretching time, telekinesis, flight, mind control, and super strength.
5) Where did you believe you’d be now, five years ago? Pick a crucial event of the past five years and tell us where you�d be now if it had been different. I guess I thought I’d be here. I was just starting high school, so I still held onto the belief that we’d be moving back here (not even to any other state). I knew I’d be going to college, though not specifically UMD. I’m pretty happy with the way my life is unfolding, but there’s a lot more of it left.

EDIT: It’s now Sunday afternoon. Rather than tackling the rest of my weekend homework, I’ve been working on this new layout. I’m syncing everything else gradually, so don’t be surprised if some of the layouts haven’t changed to match this one. Comments are welcome, as always.



Leave a comment:

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

*

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

© 2002–2019. Powered by WordPress & Romangie Theme.