i wish that we didn't have to take GECs (or GenEds) in college. i like learning. call me a nerd or whatever, but it's true. i loved when the scholastic book thingie came in elementary school and you could order books. i remember one time i ordered the little house on the prairie set, and when it came other kids made fun of me because they were big books. this was in the first grade, and apparently reading was NOT cool in the slightest bit. but, like i said, i am and have been somewhat of a nerd. so back to GECs. i thought i went to college to learn? to take classes in literature, folklore, art, the history that i haven't yet learned, theology, archaeology.. but instead i have to take useless classes that are only a repeat of what i did for four years in high school. is the only reason to go to college now just to get a job? what about actually learning? why can't i take all the classes i'm interested in? the thing that kills me the most is that if i wanted to take more classes (that is after i'm through with all the ones i need to graduate) i'd have to be in school longer than necessary, and pay more money to do it.
so this turned into a bit of a rant. oops. all i'm saying is, i love college, but i wish that the general classes i took in high school counted towards something other than a transcript.. and that i didn't have to repeat them in college. just let me learn!
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Saturday, August 11, 2007
hello, blogspot.
so, i have decided to start one of these blogspot things. apparently xanga is no longer the right thing to use.. it's so hard to keep up.
preface: i don't really know what this is going to be like, other than just things I'm thinking, reading, seeing.
lately i have been having a lot of those "out of your body" moments. the kind where you feel like you're outside of yourself, watching from above or something. the kind where you know that this moment is being seared into your memory forever. and i've been remembering a lot of those moments as well. i've heard that smell is the sense most associated with memory, and i completely agree. but i also know the other senses play a pivotal part in memory. for example:
the nites that my parents would go out when i was young--i will never forget the sound of my mom's heels on the linoleum kitchen floor. or smelling in her Chanel No. 5 as I would sit on my mom's bed and watch her put on her jewelry. or the way she would just touch her cheek to mine so that she wouldn't smear her lipstick.
standing in the Aegean Sea and watching the Sun come up, feeling the smooth, algae-covered rocks under my feet and how cold the water was. or the musty smell of the Sistine Chapel.
standing inside the Outpost at Saranac, watching people walk by outside, smiling and laughing. but not hearing them because the windows were shut.
the warmth of someone's hand on my shoulder and the sound of sniffling noses as we huddled around Karl and prayed for him, as one body united under the Name of Christ.
the way concrete smells when it rains on a hot day. and then running and dancing around the ark in the rain with katie.
the way my hands smell like bleach and my hair reeks of french fries after leaving the k.
how to me, pipe tobacco and worn cardigan sweaters means my granddad.
how all i could think when i watched meg being baptized was "new creation, new creation"
preface: i don't really know what this is going to be like, other than just things I'm thinking, reading, seeing.
lately i have been having a lot of those "out of your body" moments. the kind where you feel like you're outside of yourself, watching from above or something. the kind where you know that this moment is being seared into your memory forever. and i've been remembering a lot of those moments as well. i've heard that smell is the sense most associated with memory, and i completely agree. but i also know the other senses play a pivotal part in memory. for example:
the nites that my parents would go out when i was young--i will never forget the sound of my mom's heels on the linoleum kitchen floor. or smelling in her Chanel No. 5 as I would sit on my mom's bed and watch her put on her jewelry. or the way she would just touch her cheek to mine so that she wouldn't smear her lipstick.
standing in the Aegean Sea and watching the Sun come up, feeling the smooth, algae-covered rocks under my feet and how cold the water was. or the musty smell of the Sistine Chapel.
standing inside the Outpost at Saranac, watching people walk by outside, smiling and laughing. but not hearing them because the windows were shut.
the warmth of someone's hand on my shoulder and the sound of sniffling noses as we huddled around Karl and prayed for him, as one body united under the Name of Christ.
the way concrete smells when it rains on a hot day. and then running and dancing around the ark in the rain with katie.
the way my hands smell like bleach and my hair reeks of french fries after leaving the k.
how to me, pipe tobacco and worn cardigan sweaters means my granddad.
how all i could think when i watched meg being baptized was "new creation, new creation"
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