Sunday, March 2, 2008

Leap Day 2008

This might be a boring post, dear patient readers, but I want to write it down before I forget. Then in 4 years, if this blog is still around, I'll do a "What I was doing last February 29th" post, and see what's changed.

On February 29, 2008, I woke up at 5:30 AM and proceeded to freak out about my Anthropology midterm. I was sure I was going to fail it (to give a little context: in my world failing is a B). Instead of lying in bed despairing over my once-perfect GPA, I got up and read about Lamarck and Darwin and all those other guys I don't give tuppence for. Honestly I am pretty ambivalent about the whole evolution debate, which makes for some interesting coversations with Durnhelm's brother, the Junior Paleontologist, who is 15 and last summer was invited on an actual dig with real paleontologists. I like talking about that because this kid is like my unofficially adopted little brother and I'm proud of him.

But I digress. At the time I was not thinking of the fun arguments I could have with the Junior Paleontologist, but only about how I knew absolutely nothing of what was going to be on the test (I think I dramatized things a bit in my sleepy state--but then again I dramatize things when I'm fully awake too). Finally at 6:00 I decided that prayer was the only thing that would get me through this test and got ready to go to Mass. The Roommate chose to go back to sleep rather than joining me, so I sat with the Servants. The Servants have a habit that I enjoy and moreover that is good for me--after Mass they go to the Eucharistic chapel and pray for a good 10 minutes or so. I like it because I like praying with Jesus. It's good for me because on the days when I am fidgeting with impatience to dash out of Mass as fast as possible, it forces me to be there, to forget about the test a few minutes and remember why I'm here. So I spent 10 minutes with my face in the carpet because sometimes kneeling just doesn't cut it (I am a very physical sort of pray-er--it's one of the reasons I'm glad to be Catholic).

After Mass we went to breakfast with Tantum Ergo and discussed who was there and who wasn't there. One of the Servants was sleeping in because she just got engaged the night before (yay! cue girly romantic gushiness which I do have despite my usual sensibility...) and getting engaged is tiring, apparently. I ate some muffins and part of my eggs, but not all of them because I've discovered after 6 months that eating scrambled eggs every morning gets REALLY OLD.

After breakfast I went and studied frantically a bit more. Then I trotted off to Anthropology and took my test with fear and trepidation.

Here's the thing about me and tests: I will work myself into a state beforehand, but the moment I have the paper in front of me and pen or pencil in hand, I am good to go. I went through my Athropology test at a steady clip, confidently filling in answers and circling letters and whipping out a couple of quick essays at the end. I hate studying for tests, but I love taking them. (Yes, I'm weird. Took you this long to figure it out?)

Theology was fairly routine, then a lunch of really nasty popcorn shrimp and fairly good french fries, then off to my room to make sure my Spanish homework was in order and attempt to start packing. I'm glad the Cobbler ended up hitching a ride with us, and furthermore glad that he doesn't get out of class until 3 on Fridays, because I would not have been packed at 1 or even 2.

Then I went to Spanish and we didn't get through everything because one of the questions asked, in Spanish, whether we knew any famous people but then people started getting lazy and talking in English about all the famous people their friends of friends of friends had shaken hands with and that was pretty much the rest of class.

After Spanish I had a very brief study group for Media & Society because two of the 4 people didn't even show up. One had been excused because her flight left at 10:00 AM, but the other must have just gotten confused and thought we didn't have a meeting. She is forgiven because she is the only one who's never missed a meeting before.

So then it was time to frantically stuff things into my backpack, which I did from 1:30 to 2:30. At 2:30 I was packed. I would have been a half-hour late for our pre-Cobbler departure time but as things were I had half an hour to kill so I went over to Rebekah's room and we chatted for a bit until it was time for me to go.

At about 3:05 I called the Cobbler in his room and he heard it just as he was leaving and answered and got confused because apparently I sound rather high-pitched on the phone (I have a fairly deep voice for a girl). Whether this is just the fault of the phone or whether I inadvertently pitch my voice higher when talking on the phone I don't know. After I had clarified that it was in fact me we established that he was leaving his room and would be at the designated meeting place in a matter of minutes. He was, so we piled into the car and left.

The Cobbler slept the whole way, so no interesting conversations to report. I read some of 2001: A Space Odyssey, which I have been trying to get into for the last 6 weeks. I tried to nap. I read some more. I had cranky thoughts about People Who Can Sleep in Cars (I am not among that priviledged group). I read some more. I worked on the next chapter of my novel. Writing, that is, not reading. I'm on Chapter 21 at the moment. My New Year's Resolution was to write at least 1 chapter a month. I stayed up late Wednesday night to finish Chapter 20, partly because it needed to be done by February's end and partly because the muse was on me. (In case you are curious, I anticipate the book having 38 chapters.)

We made good time to the place where we were meeting the Cobbler's mother so she could take him back home and we could turn the other way in the direction of the Polis. I find the Cobbler's mother utterly delightful. Yes, I base this on 2 minutes in a McDonald's parking lot, but some people simply exude motherly goodness.

Finally I was dropped off at home and dragged my bags inside. I was promptly asked to tell about how the drive had gone, and shortly thereafter ignored the good-natured teasing which my mother considers a requirement whenever I talk about the Cobbler. Just for the record: Yes, one of my best friends is a guy. No, he is not my boyfriend.

I spent the next few hours jumping from one activity to the next. I sat down to eat and got up again. I went to my sister's room but left after a few minutes. I sat down at the television and got up again. There are so many things you can only do at home and I wanted to do them all at once. I also cuddled my cat, who decided to be un-catlike and practically the minute I walked in the door abandoned all feline aloofness and lay down with her little paws in the air so I could rub her belly. Yes, my cat likes belly rubs. She also barks. She grew up with our dearly departed dog and has some species identity issues.

At bedtime my mother forced me to take cold medicine despite my insistence that I am not sick anymore. Yes, I have a lingering cough but that doesn't mean I'm sick.

Then I said my prayers and went to bed in my own room. Such was February 29, 2008.

5 comments:

Shakespeare's Cobbler said...

Followed by commentary from the selfsame said Cobbler! Why? Because I have comments.

(First one is on the previous mini post.)

"Meanwhile if you want Deep Deepness you can head over to Scott's blog..."
Deep Deepness ought to sound awesome in Latin. That or Deepness of Deepness. We've got to figure out what they'd be so we can decide between them.

"Instead of lying in bed despairing over my once-perfect GPA..."
GPA be darned, I've recently decided Deep Deepness is more worthwhile and now only care about GPA because it gets me the scholarship that gets me the college that gets me the degree that gets me a job. (Why I care about a job I'm not entirely sure, though I'm pretty sure that a sufficient reason exists.)

"...but then again I dramatize things when I'm fully awake too..."
I do too, and I don't know why when my life is quite dramatic enough without it. Mayhap 'tis because I would feel out of place acting undramatic in a dramatic life.

"...after Mass they go to the Eucharistic chapel and pray for a good 10 minutes or so."
Once upon a time it was serene enough immediately after communion to get this before Mass ended. For example, you should come down to Old St. Mary's sometime just to check it out; it's still NO so nobody can think you're radtrad or anything.

"...I've discovered after 6 months that eating scrambled eggs every morning gets REALLY OLD."
The real reason they have cereal at the caf' isn't for second breakfast, it's for a changeup.

"I'm glad the Cobbler ended up hitching a ride with us, and furthermore glad that he doesn't get out of class until 3 on Fridays, because I would not have been packed at 1 or even 2."
That Murphy's Law ("If anything can go wrong it will.") is sometimes broken like that (by something going right) is my personal favorite proof of God.

"I had cranky thoughts about People Who Can Sleep in Cars (I am not among that priviledged group)."
I'm usually not either, only when I really need to catch up on sleep, and on airplanes not even then.

"My New Year's Resolution was to write at least 1 chapter a month."
You diligent writers amaze me. My muse is rather fickle, and I can do almost nothing when it deserts me.

"...but some people simply exude motherly goodness."
Unfortunately, these are actually also the ones who are the most terrible when they're angry.

"...shortly thereafter ignored the good-natured teasing which my mother considers a requirement whenever I talk about the Cobbler."
Perhaps 'tis unwise after all to discuss such things in public, but have you told her about the time proof came to me that I can't ever be romantic toward you?

"[The cat] has some species identity issues."
Poor thing. Yet even when a cat gets weird like that, doesn't it do better at that than even dogs do because it's cuter? Strange.

The Sojourner said...

Somebody's feeling chatty.

(And yes I have told my mother about our poor genetic potential...the possibility that her grandchildren would be psycologically disabled doesn't seem to bother her.)

The Sojourner said...

Although perhaps geekiness is only disabling in heterozygotes and a child homozygous for geekiness would end up being a supergenius. (He would still have no social skills but who needs those when you're a supergenius?)

Andi said...

Speaking of efficient writing, I'm writing a screenplay. By the end of ten weeks (length of the quarter), I'll have sixty pages. I am now on page fifty.

Shakespeare's Cobbler said...

I'm pretty sure geeks have married plenty of times, but the only supergenius I know of since Einstein is Papa Ben, so that theory doesn't appear offhand to have any evidence for it.