For Thought

Denise is unable to decide on her favorite artist, insisting that her compilation CDs are all she ever listens to. I corner her with the following scenario: Your house is burning down, but you have time to run in and grab one CD. Your compilation CDs, which you kept under the bed, have already gone up in flames. Which CD do you choose? What CD most represents who you are? After much bargaining, she concluded that it would have to be something somewhat peaceful. It's a hard decision. What CD would you save?

Relaxation

I've been lazily meandering my way about town these past few days, visiting with old friends and learning street names again. Around the house, I fixed my parents' computer by installing more RAM and, after a day of their internet dialup connection, regally ordered broadband to be installed by tomorrow. I've also been somewhat unsteadily unpacking my belongings and trying to decide what can be taken with me to Spain, an arduous process since return dates are quite uncertain. Do I take winter coats, even as summer temperatures are only now beginning to peak? Do I take my gamecube? Silly questions, but a pound of luggage less is a welcome comfort at this point.

My friend and Spanish host Alberto called me yesterday to figure out when I would arrive. He's knee-deep in Law exams, but was graciously willing to share his one-room dorm to me as I search for a Spanish flat without Cathy. I figured that since I'll be in Spain on the 25th, I could look for a room to have by the 1st of June, a time when most people move in and out of their apartments. Cathy, who will arrive on the 8th of June, was in full concurrence, so I have thus been saddled with the responsibility of haggling with grumpy Spanish landlords. My list of Things to Do upon first arrival in Spain are: buy cell phone. Find apartment. The uncertainty of it all is oddly alluring.

I saw Kill Bill 2 with my friend January this past weekend and thoroughly enjoyed the experience. I've been wondering if I, too, can learn how to make someone's heart explode by punching them in the chest with my fingers. Can people really do that? If so, does Jackie Chan know how? There's also a section of the movie where the Bride learns how to punch through wood up close. I practiced yesterday with cardboard boxes, but apparently I need a little more time with the sensei.

Welcomed Back

It took two rather uncomplicated days of driving to reach my southern home, my South Georgian Valdosta. iPedro, in all his expensive glory, safely accompanied me during the trip. I returned to find everything exactly as I had left it; street signs were all the same, all the old neighbors mowing their lawns somewhat obsessively, all restaurants still happily making profit dollahs. A couple of differences: Best Buy beginning its summer move into town, a new mayor (the old one, after a billion years of elected rule over the metropolitan area of Valdosta, unexpectedly died of a heart attack). But the rest, exactly as expected.

I began simultaneously unpacking and packing (an odd concept) today. My father hung about the house, still in his vacation time. When it was time to pick up my car from its physical, he asked me to drive him to the Ford dealership. I had forgotten where it was. I felt horrendously out of place and as Yankee as everyone claims me to be.

Commencement Eve

They call this commencement eve, bringing to mind immediately visions of young grads nestled tight in their beds awaiting the arrival of Santa Cum Laude, bestowing upon them bachelor's and master's degrees printed on shiny, laminated paper. I'm feeling tired and intensely retrospective as I continue to prepare for the end of my Syracuse journey. Tomorrow will most likely be a long, exhausting day as I finally graduate, drop off a cluster of family at the Rochester airport, and finish packing my most prized possessions, including my new iPedro (I love him dearly). Wish me luck.

My Emancipation Proclamation

Seeing the goal inch forward, I feverishly scribbled line after hastily-crafted line onto my laptop computer. Do these ideas make sense? Is this what the professor wanted? My head divided into multiple trains of thought, all with the same destination. The end of this Syracusian chapter of my life pulls into the station. My parents arrived last night to (oh so literally) help me pack my bags to take this (oh so metaphorical) train ride back to the South. I will miss: these friendly alliances forged after two years, my newly-acquired resistance to cold, the silence of snow-heavy streets.

My parents went to dinner with Travis' family tonight. My mother was hilarious as she created and hyperbolicized differences between the South and these strange Northern folk. She imagined they would all have three eyes and breathe underwater. When she saw the bowl of crystal sugar on the table, she opened her eyes wide and said: "See, in the South we have sugar that's so different from this." My father sat quietly, since he had a hard time understanding anyone who spoke; this was fine in turn, since Travis' mother couldn't understand his swampy South Georgia drawl anyway. I translated as best as I could with neutral American, although I demonstrated my clear bias as I leaned into my mother and made fun of northern accents with her. We laughed in conspiratorial delight.

the rest of the clan flies in over the next two days in preparation for my may 9th graduation. My happy heart flutters at the thought of languid southern summers in exchange for the grey chill of the north.

favorite moment today: the warmth of family filling my heart as I drove home, the moon low and red.

Word to the Wise

Tonight Travis, his brother and I went to see the newest Ben Stiller/Jack Black movie Envy. 30 minutes into the movie, after having the annoying spitball boys in front of us kicked out, I realized belatedly that I should have taken my cue with the boys. The movie was terrible; towards the end, I started feeling bad for Ben Stiller as I watched his face crinkle up from trying so hard to emote onscreen. All that acting, and to no avail; the poor script and the horribly misused supporting actors being its primary pitfalls. And Amy Poehler! Now she's ridiculously funny.

In financial news for the day, I am anxiously awaiting new iPod even as I struggle to pull funds together to afford it. I am currently considering thievery, crack harlotry and rapid succession blood donation. I am not above accepting monetary contributions.

May Showers

The snow clouds have finally blown away and the sun comes streaming in through my window. It's actually kind of hot now, although I am not going to mutter one word of complaint for fear of cosmic karma coming through to reap her justice. I'm finishing the monthly changes for the website right now... I'm planning on changing things up to keep everything fresh just about every month.

My bank account suffered a serious blow to the head today as I gave in to societal pressure and purchased a charming baby boy iPod. We know it's a boy because it's coming swaddled in a blue iSkin, so as to distinguish it from the millions of clones out there. It better be darling, and unique, since my children's children will be paying for this dear piece of machinery. Of course, I officially have justified every penny spent: it will be useful for travel times (coming sooner and sooner), I won't have to carry any CDs or CD player to Spain, I'll be the baddest mofo on my Spanish block... but seriously, Apple's got quite the racket going on.

Latest spam: all my student emails complaining about their final grades. Delete.