Currently Playing Orff: Carmina Burana By Rudolf Knoll, Carl Orff, Kurt Prestel, Salzburg Mozarteum Choir & Orchestra, Mozarteum-Orchester Salzburg, Gerda Hartman, Richard Brunner Ok, so really it's just playing in my head... see related

Well, I think I'm going to do it.  I'm going to crossover.  I think. See, the problem here is that none of the alumni I love so very dearly have Xangas.  They're all on LiveJournal.  Tons of them.  Old choir members, quad buddies, random people that I love and miss... and I can't add them to any sort of buddy list, because I'm not a LiveJournal member.  I can't even comment on their posts!  It's heartbreaking, really.  I hate to give up on Xanga, it's been very good to me, but communication is pretty limited here.

Currently Playing Nickel Creek By Nickel Creek see related

I came to Alma thinking, "Great!  They're going to give me an advisor, and that means there's somebody to keep me on task... my usual procrastination and air-headedness will be held in check!" 

Well, my advisor is Dr. Seals.  He is one of the most caring, competent educators I've ever met.  The education program here at Alma would be sadly lacking if he were not here.  However, he is as big an air-head as I am, and this makes it rather dangerous sometimes.  I've had Sue Deel (registrar) sign several of my class request and drop forms, simply because I've not been able to cross paths with the man. 

In recent history, I have slept through two consecutive Monday morning (8:00 a.m.) meetings to talk about my schedule and getting out of here ASAP.  So I reset the meeting again, this time at 9:30, knowing I'm almost always out of bed by then.  He called me at 9:10 and had to cancel! 

Yep, Dr. Seals & I are a dangerous combination... dangerously low on things like organization or common sense.  (This is the man who scheduled his trip to Ecuador over his daughter's high school graduation and had to fly home early).

Hmmm... I've seen Betas and kissing fish and goldfish... I've seen gerbils and rats and mice.  I've seen cats and even snakes and spiders.  But this is the first time I've seen anyone attempt to raise a chicken in their dorm room.

Yes.  A chicken.  Justin has a little baby bantam chick.  Now, it will stay pretty small, and pretty fuzzy... but chickens stink!  Worse than sheep (though the volume's not the same)!  And they're majorly noisy.  Justin and Candy don't even know if it's a rooster or a hen yet.  And for all this, it's one of the cutest, sweetest things I've ever held.  It fits in the palm of your hand, and it loves to cuddle in there. 

Speaking of sweet things I've held lately, my friend Char had her two adorable little girls at church on Sunday.  Leah's 2 and Rachel's almost 3 months.  I'm not much of a baby person--they're cute, but they (like the chickens) make a lot of noise and smell, and (like the chickens) I'd rather hold other people's than have my own any time in the near future.  I hadn't seen the baby before, so I got to hang on to her quite a bit before church and during Sunday school.  She sure was a doll.  They were both dressed in little pink flowery dresses their grandma had bought them.  Unfortunately, their dad wouldn't come.  (Mind you, this is the church he grew up in, and his mom who bought the Easter outfits for the girls.)  Ian sat at home while Char dealt with two tiny kids at church all morning.  It's not the first time he's skipped church, but I wanted to smack him.  Say a prayer for the Knoertzer family... Char's got her hands full.

Currently Playing Into the Woods (1987 Original Broadway Cast) By Stephen Sondheim, Bernadette Peters, Joanna Gleason see related

The dirty hippies have united.  There are three of us that have been studying in my room since dinner.  It has been highly amusing... and we just decided to see what the handheld bug zapper would do to shredded cheese.  It makes a big *pop* and quite a spark.  We've also been listening to musicals all night.  Hooray for kooky Sondheim!  And sunny, 60-degree days, when I decide it's more valuable to spend the sunny time on a bench writing rather than in the shower.  Yep... 11:00 p.m. and I'm still a dirty hippie!

To Alma Mater:

Who are you on the days I feel like your poster-child?
Trendy shoes & dirty, flat-ironed hair,
I sit in the sun at the crux of your history

1888
1900
1911
beer cans & brand-new bricks

The intellectual refuse of generations
has cluttered this ground,
cast off,            thrown out
of 3rd-story classroom windows.
Your children paved the Jungle--
We've lost the Grove.

Today's electronic steeple bells remind me
that my days will no longer be marked by campus clocks
and sitting in the sun writing poetry
wearing maroon letters on my chest
will soon make me a poster-child only for shiftlessness (or maybe
pennilessness).