Woooot Dean's List! And in honor of that fact and as a direct result of the confidence which has been reinstated in my mental capacity, I decided to take on Blogger.com and figure out my password, which apparently got forgotten due to random facts about the Constitution taking over my memory bank or me reformatting my lappy so all passwords were lost.
In any case, Susan, here is your long-promised blog.
I was just filling out my application for ACE and it's funny how fast I can go from thinking "I'm exactly the kind of person they're looking for" to thinking "Wow, this transcript says nothing about me -- how will they know who I am?" I stressed myself into a stomach almost-ulcer this semester, when in all reality, the very best semester GPA I've ever gotten moved my overall GPA no more than 0.02. Don't get me wrong. I'm very proud of my grades, and I enjoyed working hard for them, but in the long run, what do they mean?
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It's strange being home after I've been away for so long. In some ways, I fall right back into the swing of the rhythm of home, but in some ways it seems all the more foreign. And I don't necessarily mean home as in my house on my street, but I do mean the entire culture and all that "home" entails. But I think I already wrote a blog on that.
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I really like potato salad. We had some SCRUMPTIOUS potato salad today at lunch. Just enough bacon, just enough mayo. Mmmm. Also at lunch, bacon and artichoke dip which politely reminded me why I was taking Pepcid. Also, Heineken mini keg, thanks to my father, and oranges and grapefruits cut into perfect little squares thanks to my mother. That's one thing I miss when I'm gone -- bowls of ready-to-eat sliced oranges and grapefruits swimming in their little sugar-water marinade. Sweet and tangy, always there, oh so good.
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This morning at 7 am I rolled over in my bed to find myself face to face with Thomas Merton's No Man Is an Island, (courtesy of Mr. Nava), and the bedside lamp still on. Really, it's a good book. So good that I read it until I fell very deep asleep. As in, didn't stir for 6 hours deep. I'm kind of feeling like a wimp, as I always do after I leave school. I work hard-core for 16 weeks, then as soon as it's all over, I can't even bring myself to read two pages of the Henri DeLubac I'd been dying to be able to read when I was swimming in NPR. I promised myself I'd read DeLubac and Clement over break. I also promised myself I'd finish a dozen rosaries for soldiers, knit a baby blanket, ace the GRE, write 7 essays for applications for next year, wrap all the presents, go to the Debutante ball....
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I can't wait for second semester. I'm excited for a chance to start fresh on a few things and to go even deeper with others. There are a lot of things that make me anxious about this coming semester, but I know that in the end, all will be well.
"Be well, do good work, and keep in touch."
ps my left shift key is dying again. sad.
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