Sentimentality

Sentimentality is not an uncommon feeling for me. I embrace it, as a matter of fact. I stalk it. I sit on its front steps and wait for it to come home so I can beg for more. (Creepiest metaphor I've ever come up with. Sorry.)

The point is, I often do things just because they seem romantic to me. Just because, I suppose, I've read about them in a book somewhere down the line.

So it shouldn't surprise you that on December 11th, 2011, following my last Ultimate training in Austria, I had an emotional walk home. It was a long walk, too; down a lane lined with trees and bordered by fields. There were mountains in the distance. I trudged along, past families out for their Sunday strolls, couples heading for the Christmas Market at Hellbrunn, and equestrians guiding their horses gingerly around the walkers. I was thinking, as I walked, about my frisbee playing, and how it was the very last thing I expected to be doing in Europe, and how it was also the best. I began to make up a poem in my head. Sometimes when I do this I don't write the poem down; I tell myself I'll copy it out later, and then I never do. On December 11th, however, I veered off the path, found a curb to perch on, leaned my back into the late Fall sunshine, and wrote my poem on a scrap of paper I found in my backpack.

Here it is, not fancy or fine, but small, and dripping with the sentimentality I can't help but adore:

I love the feeling of throwing a frisbee,
of knowing as soon as your wrist releases
and the disc leaves the curl of your hand
that no matter which direction it goes,
it will fly straight
and without a wobble.

December 11th, 2011
Hellbrunn, Salzburg, Austria

Christmas Eve

Well, I know I've been MIA for awhile, but as it's Christmas Eve, and as I have a tradition of doing a post every Christmas Eve night, I thought I would pick up here.

Dad is currently watching Celtic Women on TV. I don't understand it, nor do I share this taste, but he just loves the Celtic Women. I catch him watching it all the time, and it's gotten bad enough that he knows which women have left the group to pursue solo careers, and which women put in hair extensions in between numbers. I worry about him sometimes.

Amy is curled up on the couch, puke bucket pulled close. She's been sick since this morning with the flu. We're all hoping she feels better for Christmas. Mom says I can't keep her presents if she doesn't.

I just finished making my study abroad slideshow on iphoto. If you see me on the street, I'll totally stop and show you this slideshow; I put in music and everything.

And now I think I'll settle down in bed with Gone With The Wind.

Tomorrow will be church and prime rib and ping pong on the table my cousins got from Grandma and wondering if I finally got the pony I've been begging for.

Merry Christmas everyone.

Stay gold.

Ultimate

Have I ever told you about Ultimate Frisbee?
I probably should now, because the sport makes me so, so happy. In every way.

I was going to sign up for badminton, or volleyball, or basketball, but by the time I got to the registration office, everything was full. Every sports class I had ever dreamed of taking was full, leaving me to take the one class I had never dreamed of taking.

Ultimate, of course.

And I love it. I loved it from the first day, when I could hardly throw a frisbee, to the second day, when we all discovered that I can catch. Not to brag, but I can catch, my friends. I attribute this talent to many years of tossing footballs and softballs (no frisbees) around the front yard with my Dad. Our coach proclaimed me the wide receiver, and I went home happy.

The best part of Ultimate, however, is not the sport itself. It's the people. I'm one of four Americans on the team (the other three are some AIFS buddies of mine), and the rest are Austrians. Frisbee came during a time when I was really feeling down about being in Salzburg. I felt like I didn't have any friends, my roommate treated me like the devil's spawn (well, not everything has changed), and I was desperately, daily, gut-wrenchingly homesick. And then I'd go to Ultimate, and I would be on a team. And everyone would be helping everyone and making jokes and speaking a confused mix of German and English and I felt like I fit in without a hitch.

I was worried initially that since so many people on the team are really good players, they would grow impatient with my sorry incompetence and shun me forever. They did not do this. Everyone has been helpful and friendly. They even refrain from laughing when I fall on my butt, legs up in the air (which, let's be honest, happens at least two times every practice).

And sure, I'm still not the best player out there. Like I said, my catching is fairly good, but my throwing definitely needs some work. I'm still getting used to using my wrist instead of my entire arm, and I currently can only throw backhand. But I have glorious amounts of fun on the field.

Tonight it was my friend Maggie's (an AIFS kid) birthday. We had talked about it casually at the last practice, and I guess everyone remembered, because two different team members showed up with baked goods to share. Let me tell you that eating a piece of raspberry cream sponge cake and a piece of brownie, and then running two large laps around the field is not a fantastic idea. But it sure is delicious.

Anyway, we all sang to Maggie, and she blew out a candle, and then we did our drills and scrimmaged for an hour. And then we ate more cake.

And now I'm back in Internationales Kolleg (my dorm), sitting with Mac on my lap. I'm still in my Ultimate clothes. I should probably take a shower, but I don't really want to. I don't really want to wash this evening off yet.

I Carry Your Heart With Me

A few things I've done today:

1. Took a German test (horrific. I was so tired last night, and the Nyquil was kicking in, and I just stopped caring about dative verbs. It happens, although I certainly hope I get my act together for the next test)

2. Walked to Subway with my roommate for dinner. The girl behind the counter was quite chatty: "You know Andrea broke up with her boyfriend of 2 months and she called in to say she couldn't work. When I broke up with my boyfriend of 2 and a half years I worked every single day!"

Can I just have my Italian BMT please?

3. Played intramural volleyball. We had an off night, which was really okay. The not so okay part was two members of our team being poor sports and huffing off the court afterwards like they wanted nothing to do with the rest of us. If there's anything I've learned playing sports, it's that any loss (or win) is a culmination of events. Bad serves, missed blocks, out-of-bounds spikes, etc. It's incredibly unfortunate when people choose to point fingers and dwell on individual plays.

4. Went to community council, which was interesting and fairly heated as usual. I spoke up against spending money on things like paint-your-own-piggy-banks and tie-dye-shirts, and was instead in favor of using our money for something more permanent, like lamps or chairs or a Blu-Ray player. I don't think I made a whole lot of friends at that meeting.


I guess this hasn't been a very Valentine-y post, but here's a Valentine-y poem I found to love things up a bit:

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

-E.E. Cummings (I Carry Your Heart With Me)

Weekend Update

Here's what's going on with me right now:

1. I want to study abroad in Salzburg. I want to so very, very badly, but of course there are things to think about like money and credits. And money.

2. I went to talk to my advisor yesterday about me prospectively studying abroad, and how I was worried about the fact that I've never taken a journalism class (and probably won't ever at UMM, as it's not a major offered here). I wanted to know if I would have to go to graduate school to study journalism in order to proceed with my career. My advisor assured me that plenty of UMM English majors have gone on to be journalists, and that journalism school isn't really necessary unless I want extra credentials (which would be nice, but if I don't need them, why waste time and money?). Furthermore (and this is where things really got good) my advisor informed me that he had recently received an email from a UMM alum who is the editor of an Arizona newspaper. This editor was wondering if there were any English majors who would be interested in a job at his newspaper. And my advisor gave me his email address, saying that I should contact him, and ask him some of the questions I have about a career in journalism. Can you believe it? I mean, only at UMM can you walk into a prof's office, intending to ask a few questions, and come out with an email address that may lead to an actual job after graduation. A job, my friends! For an English major! My Dad will be so proud.

3. So far the New Year's work out resolution is going swimmingly. My quad has healed (with the help of intense icing (with ice, not with frosting), and my roommate and I have been at the gym almost every single day since Spring Semester began. On Thursday, we went to the first meeting of the newly-formed Pickleball Club. I haven't played Pickleball since middle school gym class, so I struggled a bit at first, but it got easier after a while. The funniest thing was that the club president was standing behind Maddie and I as we played against two other people, and he kept pulling me aside to say things like: "Are you a tennis player or something? Because, no offense, but you just missed the ball by a good two feet." Well, thanks. Thanks very much. And no, I'm not a tennis player. I was simply having some hand-eye-coordination problems. Happens to the best of us.

4. This week I've been watching (whenever I get a chance) the A&E (BBC) version of Pride and Prejudice. You know, the one with Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth? I used to think that I infinitely preferred the newer, Keira Knightley P and P, but now I'm not so sure. I think I love them both for different reasons. The A&E is longer, so I think it develops the story a lot better, and gives us time to really get to know the characters. It's also way funnier. I just about die laughing whenever Mary opens her mouth. The Keira version, however, is a lot richer. I think the locations are more authentic, and the filmmaking highlights the story beautifully. (Ex: that scene at the Netherfield Ball when Lizzie and Darcy dance for the first time, and everyone else suddenly disappears. I love that). As for the big Jennifer Ehle/Keira Knightley Elizabeth Bennet showdown? I don't know if I can choose one. Not being overly familiar with the book version of P and P (forgive me, but I have trouble reading Jane Austen unless I'm in a very specific state of mind. Otherwise I get bored), I can't say who is the most Elizabeth Bennet Elizabeth Bennet. They both play her so differently, but both performances in my opinion are equally effective. They both deserve Darcy when they finally get him, and vice versa. And that, I think, is the main point.

Pains, Classes, Plans

Honestly, I don't think I've ever ached so much in my entire life. My muscles seem to have aged about 50 years overnight. I can't roll over in bed without effort. Walking is done gingerly and very, very slowly. Stairs are nearly impossible. When limping around campus nowadays, it's not uncommon to hear cries of "gimpy!" aimed in my direction. Snowballs, too. I'm the Tiny Tim of Morris. I'm Terry in An Affair to Remember, only without the nice painting.

All my pain, humiliatingly enough, is not the result of a romantic accident or even a knife fight. Nope, it's the result of two hours in the RFC on Sunday playing volleyball, and an hour yesterday of playing badminton. Both activities might have turned out all right, but when I play sports, I tend to perform uncoordinated lunges and dives that stretch my body in ways it's probably not meant to be stretched. Three hours of acrobatics, I suppose, were bound to bring pain.

In other news, I'll give you a list of my spring classes:
American Literature 20th century and forward
Beginning German II
The Trial of Galileo (Honors)
Art History Renaissance to Modern

In other other news, I've recently begun planning for my Great Study Abroad Semester. I know I want to go somewhere where I can practice my German, and I obviously need to go somewhere where I can take courses that pertain to my major. The search is currently narrowed down to Austria and Germany, with Austria inching ahead. Salzburg especially is looking really good right now, probably because of my passionate devotion to The Sound of Music. Will keep you updated.

"We're Bonding, Aren't We?"

Last night, my roommate and I, under orders from certain New Years Resolutions, headed to the Regional Fitness Center to run around a bit. We decided to play badminton, which is great because you run around enough to get a work out, but you have enough fun that it doesn't feel like work.

Well, we were batting the birdie back and forth with more humor than skill, when a group of five boys, two of whom were international students, walked up and asked us if they could join. We said sure, assuming that two of them would assemble and oppose the two of us. To our surprise, all five of them clustered together on the other side of the net and proceeded to take us on.

Let me tell you, it was a lot of fun.
The birdie was smashed back and forth, often twirling in midair as rackets swished by, missing by entire feet.
Boys collided with boys on the other side, boys fell, laughing.
Serves were delivered out of order and overhand, often with fluorishes and mighty leaps.
No one, it seemed, could understand what any other person said, but it didn't seem to matter.
We were just seven college students having fun.

To be completely honest, it was the first time that I've really interacted with international students.
Not because I have anything against them, but because I'm always worried that I'll do something or say something they won't understand, or vice versa.
Badminton, even in rude form, I have learned, is easily translated into any language.

In fact, and you're probably going to groan at this next part, our entire time in the RFC reminded me of that moment in Father of the Bride 2, when Steve Martin and Martin Short are in the hospital running back and forth between Steve's wife and Steve's daughter, who are both in labor at the same time. Suddenly, Martin Short, in his funny Franck voice, grabs Steve Martin by the shoulders and says, "George...we're bonding, aren't we?" And Steve Martin smiles a slow smile of recognition and says "Yes, Franck. I think we are."

Hospital, badminton court. Same thing, really.

Another 2 a.m. Paper

Why do I do this to myself?
Why am I sitting here at 2:02 a.m. typing a 5 page research paper draft that's due tomorrow?
I've had weeks to work on the thing.
I've done pretty much zero research.
I've spent minimum time thinking about my topic (not that it's uninteresting).

The result of this lack of diligence?
Tomorrow, I will doubtlessly be turning in a draft that consists of me vomiting out my opinions on my topic.
It will a be a research-less research paper draft.
Of course, I will have b.s.-ed in my cover letter.
Something like, "I felt it was best to use my draft to discover what I think about my topic, and then implement my research later on."
My writing professor, being an extremely sharp person, will certainly see through said b.s.

Darn it.
You just can't win at 2:06 a.m. 2:07 is looking bright, though...

Anyway, said procrastination was actually not entirely procrastination. Most of it was actually lack of time to work on something long term. It's hard, you know, to make time for a paper that's due in a few weeks when you have a German test tomorrow, and an Honors paper due on Monday, and a 400 page novel to read in six days.

Plus I have work. Lots of work. Information Desk, Writing Room, Social Science Office.
And then there's writing an article a week for the campus newspaper, MCSA meetings, and various campus events.
Also social things. I need to have a life. I'm not one of those people who can just shut themselves off from everyone for a week on end. If I don't have time where I can hang out with my friends and not worry about anything else, I go crazy. Certifiable.

You know, it's suddenly striking me that I've had a lot of negative posts lately. I'm sorry. My life is by no means negative.
For example, today I had my first three intramural badminton matches. I'm afraid I lost all three, but they were all certainly interesting. Badminton has never struck me as a very intense sport, but let me tell you that I was absolutely drenched in sweat by the time I was done. I was also pretty sore; as you know, I'm not a coordinated person, so I was tripping over my own feet and getting my legs tangled and doing awkward lunge-type moves in pursuit of that darn birdie.

Overall, though (and here's the happy part at last), I had a lot of fun. I've always enjoyed playing sports, even though I'm by no means a great athlete. Next time, however, I'd like to win a little bit.

Day 2, 7:04 p.m.

I got zombified last night around 8:00 p.m.
Went into Maddie's room (we were going to walk to badminton together), and King got me from behind the door. An unfortunate hit, but a fair one.
So far I haven't eaten any humans. Just not inclined, I guess. Also, their numbers are dwindling, and the few humans left are especially wily and quick. Ben did make a kill this afternoon and shared with me, so I've been sated for another 48 hours or so.
Raids still continue.
Life still continues.
Purple bandana on my head now.

Totals:
103 Humans
215 Zombies