For all the world I have not happened
I am no glittering wetness on your pupil
Where am I? aborted from space
Crushed against an ice sheet where the atmosphere stops
Observing:
Summer
Immaculate lawn
Clean horizon
Dome of happy
Self-contained
Globe of glass
Precludes the rain
Blistering thunder never became
Never introduced itself
My voice never found your mouth
Or burst through your window pane
Dead to you before I fell
Staring through a crystal ball
To hell
Courtney is now asleep under her new brightly-colored Mexican blanket, but a little while ago we were reciting poems and talking about school. I noted my relative hopelessness as far as the Golden class is concerned, concluding, "Everything sucks."
"...But no, everything does not suck."
I know God's goodness -- regardless of my performance. So, with every intention to avoid artificiality, I think it'd be wise to remind myself.
1. The thunderstorm tonight is black, white, purple, loud and wet.
2. A thick layer of aspirin is on my face.
3. I've eaten enough for one and a half people since I got up.
4. Courtney has a Mexican blanket.
5. Rochester College tap water is easily accessible.
6. The newspaper next to me says "Vets regain command" -- and I can read it. Upside down.
7. I don't have to fear the future.
8. Jenny's eyes are amazingly blue.
9. I have some really great cds.
10. Yanni's "In My Time" is playing right now.
11. Mr Golden's expressions should have their own movie.
12. The college campus keeps surprising me with pretty things.
13. I have discovered Salvation Army.
14. There is such a thing as hair dye.
15. People wrote down some things Jesus did.
16. It got around to me.
17. I have all my teeth.
18. Jordan plays card games with me.
19. There are so many colors we could never name them all.
20. Light refracts in multiple directions when it hits a diamond.
21. The green of traffic lights is a delicious color.
22. Pencils keep ending up on the floor of this room.
23. The Skillet drummer is a girl.
24. This summer I might get a real job, learn some sign language, and/or work up the motivation to make some Monkey Bread. (You never know.)
25. Poppy Don likes to garden.
I could swear -- every time I stand in a checkout line, I see a different magazine that says "Walk Off Belly Fat!"
YOUR SECRET IS OUT, GUYS. You can stop marketing it as a mind-blowing discovery.
Found out this afternoon that ERICA IS PREGNANT!
I'm going to be an aunt.
Recalling Emily's words on the Wall once, "There are no words."
I really forgot to add something about the Seder. I'd like to remember the thought...
Having studied the history of biblical Judaism, however barely, the entire "Passover" experience was fully different from what it would probably have been otherwise. As we went through the ceremonies and little speeches from the "head of the house", and skipped over some very long speeches, and heard the specifics of what this feast celebrates and emphasizes, I felt an overwhelming sense of victory and belonging. Part of it was based the obvious-in-a-Christian-era implications, but most of it was on behalf of the Israelites alone. I think I understand just a little bit now -- why it was so hard for the early Christian Jews to accept Gentiles. They'd been the favorite son, the special people. That was who they were.
I could swear the sky is made of water tonight. It looks smaller and closer than usual, clear and crystalline. The moon floats in the midst of a translucent white glow. I stared stupidly at it as I walked down the sidewalk to the dorm until a girl walking past me burped very loudly.
MY BIRTHDAY WAS THE BOMB, mostly. I wrote my family about it, and I will paste the email here because I don't want to describe it all over again.
My birthday started with the words, "It's seven o'clock, Amanda. Happy birthday!"
So I bolted out of bed. I mean, I had an eight o'clock class with an exam. I got ready, cursed my three enormous zits -- I'm not joking about this, they're gargantuan -- stepped out the door precisely as the clock was preparing to snap into another hour, and shuffled down the stairs.
At the end of the stairway is a great metal door rigged with an alarm system. It went off when I opened it. The sound gave me a sick sort of feeling in my stomach, but dumb stuff happens all the time here, you know. It was a fluke.
The lobby was uncharacteristically dark and grim-looking. In fact, so was everything else. Hoofing it across the "tear drop" driveway toward the campus center, I reasoned all this strange gloominess was a result of the weather. We've had rain since yesterday.
I pushed through the door. One of the maintenance staff was there, vacuuming in front of the doorway to Auditorium East... weird. With a sheepish glance at her I hopped over the cords and into AE.
Completely empty.
There's not much you can do with an empty classroom, so I turned around slowly.
"Ma'am?"
She switched the vacuum off and looked at me, slightly petrified, as always. I felt bad.
"Excuse me. What time is it?"
"It -- maybe six..."
"Seven?" I bit my lip.
"...yes, six thirty, maybe, mmm. Six or seven..."
I was interfering with her cleaning, obviously. "Okay. Thank you."
Courtney, meanwhile, was gathered securely into room 309 on the third floor, wrapped in absolute silence beneath cotton sheets, amid plushy animals and far more pillows than she ever deserved. I bet the Yanni cd even spontaneously began to spin out its melodies at that point.
I checked every pocket for my card on the way back. It wasn't in every pocket, or in any pocket, because it was in the room with CJ, tucked into the wall beneath my dangling keys. The alarm in the lobby was still screaming when I returned, but it hadn't drawn any attention at all. The place was just as deserted as when I'd left it. Unable to get back up without my swipe card, I sat down and waited.
Forty minutes later a girl came down. She had a quizzical look, probably produced by the alarm, but was on her way to breakfast or work and barely noticed me. My aerobics here would have impressed nearly anyone other than the soccer players. As much as a 160-pound girl can, I sprinted through the atmosphere and struck my palm into the too-narrow space between the door and the doorframe. I almost didn't make it.
I tell you this because I don't want to let the memory slip into oblivion altogether. Courtney didn't do it on purpose. Her clock really was bumped an hour forward. Neither of us has any idea why that is. But it's funny.