guess who's going to a liberal arts college

    Dear Harriet Walter,

    One thing I was not expecting from college was the whole thing about everybody - including the boys - randomly singing Phantom of the Opera together. Sometimes with Freshman Danielle on piano.

    Also, glancing over the last couple of posts, I feel like I should probably note that I do in fact have more than one professor. Shocking, I know. Let's briefly talk about my professors. I haven't come up with names for them yet, I'll do that later.

    I have four professors for my five classes. I like them all. In no particular order, they are:

• Dr Mac. I will call him that because it doesn't actually name (full) names and because that is just who he is. Dr Mac is the Humanities guy around here. I'm in one of his ancient history/civilizations classes - I forget its full title - and his philosophy/theology class. He's kind of the college's show-professor, as he's not only one of the major Characters in the community, but I'm pretty sure visiting prospective-students and parents-thereof are usually made to sit in on his classes. He's youngish and handsome and brilliant and funny. Very, very droll. Great hair. Homeschools his three small boy-children, some of whom we see fairly often on campus. I'm quite fond of him.

• Communications Professor. I'm in his public speaking class this semester. He's in his late thirties, heavyish, very nice, very energetic and approachable. Not especially organized sometimes. History of working in the film industry (hey there, Los Angeles!) but now married with small children.
• Professor Mine Enemy. Teacher of Biblical and Theological Studies. I'm in his first-half-of-the-Old Testament class. Also one of the major Characters in this college. Actually a "Dr", not a "Prof.", but Doctor Mine Enemy doesn't have the same ring to it. Older. Sandy hair, glasses, scruffiness, possesses Parisian neckties. Aside from the usual line-up of B.A., M.A., another M.A., Ph.D. etc, has also studied in Europe and lived/studied in Israel. Married, three grown offspring and one grandinfant. Does not fully understand how terrifying some of us find him and his mind.* Obviously having a good time whenever teaching, perhaps especially in the face of maudlin freshman suffering. His brain is like a supernova made of diamonds and fire.
• Math/Business Professor. Adjunct. I'm in his remedial algebra class. Older, paternal. Kind. Patient with mathematical obtuseness. Good at explaining things. Enthusiastic about his work. Don't know much about his personal life yet.

    I'm also in a once-a-week freshman-only class that's all about surviving and thriving at college, which is taught by the dean of student life, but I'm not very interested in it so I'm not going to write about it right now.

    Oh frogs. Bedtime. Immediately. Why am I blogging. Gah.

*Last Wednesday, Freshman Danielle and I were in his class, and Danielle was trying to give her thoughts/feedback on something P.M.E. was talking about, and though he listened very politely, she trailed off with a smattering of "um"s and something like an "erm, nevermind".
    "No, go on," said PME.
    "I can't talk while you're looking at me," blurted Danielle. "It's really scary, I feel like such an idiot." She laughed weakly. Danielle, it is worth noting, is beautiful and loud and 6'2" and probably the most popular girl on campus. Danielle can talk in any situation.
     "What? I'm not that scary!" protested PME with an exasperated laugh which implied volumes of similar past experiences with intimidated students. I badly wanted to snort loudly or give an obvious hoot at this, but I was too scared of drawing his attention.

left to our own devices

    Dear Harriet Walter,

    I know I already posted today but a happy thought hit me just now.

    Everybody is off bowling tonight, dressed as either hippies or preps, an event organized by the student senate. I chose not to go because I didn't see myself going. Fellow freshmen Patrick and Jim also chose not to go.

    I finished my allotted homework earlier than expected and so treated myself to finally starting the latest Mary Russell mystery. (Fab so far.) When I was done for the time being, I went back into my room, leaving the door open, and went under my desk to put the book back on the desk-shelf.

    "Hey, who's in there?" called out the voice of Jim.

    "Just me," I said, emerging to put my travel pillow back on my desk chair and my cell phone on my desk. Jim and Patrick had been around earlier, when I was in the lounge reading and they were knocking on the doors of the empty girls' rooms for the sake of noise.

    "Oh, it's Ruby. Hey, don't go in your bathroom." A stern eye and a pointing finger were directed at me through the crack of the open door jamb.

    "But I need to wash my hands."

    "Oh, you can go in the bathroom to wash your hands, that's ok."

    "Glad to hear it."

    I finished putting my things away and walked down the hall, where I found the two boys busily drawing on the mirrors of the girls' bathroom with dry-erase markers.

    It was as I was washing my hands and looking at a doodle of a purple, mustachioed octopus wearing a top hat and monocle (and saying, "good aftermorn!") that the happy thought hit me.

    "I have a fake mustache just like that one," I said. "I took mustaches with me to college, like a sensible person." I don't think the boys heard me; they were too busy snorting over one of their new creations.

    After washing my hands, I walked back to my room, but heard the words "Does it work on here?", then stopped and half-turned before going in.

    "Don't draw on the walls," I called out.

    "We won't!" echoed back.

    "Or the stalls. Or the floors."

    "Too late!" cried Patrick cheerily.

    I went into my room, closed the door and finally opened up the long-sealed package of fake mustaches my mother had bought for me back home.

    "'Hey Ruby!'" said Jim in monotone from outside my door as he read from the post-it note stuck to the aforementioned door, "'I love you! If you need to talk, you know where I am! Love, Danielle.'"

    "Oh," I said, "have you changed your name, Jim?"

    "Yes."

    "I like it, it suits you." 

    "Thank you."

    "Hey, man, are we still gonna watch Inception?" said Patrick.

this post is longer than six long things at a funeral

    Dear Harriet Walter,

    At last, this week is done! The first exam I had was a Bible exam on Wednesday (Professor Mine Enemy's class; he's the Associate Professor of Biblical and Theological Studies at this college and I'm in his general first-half-of-the-Old Testament class), which was predictably difficult. And P.M.E. was obviously amused by our wailing and gnashing of teeth, damn him. I think I did pretty well, though.
    The second exam was for my remedial algebra class on Thursday morning. Did I ever mention that my math class normally starts at 7:55am? The test started at 7:30am, which is just straight-up vulgar. I didn't manage to finish all 90 questions. Still waiting to hear if I passed that.
    The third exam was for my public speaking class, and started ten minutes after I was done with my math exam. This was not a big deal, though, as we weren't giving actual speeches or anything, just doing a normal papery test. I did well.

    I AM GLAD TO BE DONE WITH THIS WEEK IS ALL

    Now this weekend I have to revise my tribute speech for public speaking class and start practicing it before delivering it on Tuesday or Thursday, start writing a paper for Old Testament class, catch up on reading for History class and start thinking about my next paper for that and do a frig-ton of math homework.

    On a completely different note, I think the clearest and simplest difference between a Christian and a non-Christian might be the way they react to being given a free Bible. I go to a Christian college, see, and during chapel this morning our guest speaker (who is a different person every week) was somebody who - if I remember correctly - had been involved in the original marketing of the ESV (English Standard Version) Bible, which is a pretty commonly used edition on this campus, and he brought a few boxes of lovely, supple, engraved-faux-leather-with-gold-edges ESV Value Thinline Editions to give to us students for free. We were all totally thrilled like "SWEEEET, FREE BIBLES!" I chose a brown one and I love mine and appreciate getting it very much. But if I was a nonbeliever, somebody trying to foist a Bible on me would be super annoying and I would be irritated at them trying to tell me how to live my life and so on.

    Professor Mine Enemy had to go and murder my joy, however. He was in chapel that morning too, and I have his class right after lunch which is right after chapel, and in that class he made clear to us that we were not allowed to take our new, super-light ESVs to his Bible class but had to keep bringing our ESV Study Bibles for reference as usual. Have you ever seen an ESV Study Bible? They're different from the ones we got today, those are just the straight-up Bible with nothing added. ESV Study Bibles are the ones with a million billion trillion notes and maps and things. Their pages are so thin you can read the other side easily but nevertheless they weigh a ton. They are actual factual bricks. I use mine as a bookend to prop up my very very heavy collection of textbooks. I was so hoping I wouldn't have to lug mine to his class anymore! But no. Damn him.

    To be fair, that was a really good class he taught today. Much too exciting for a Friday afternoon, but good nonetheless.

    TOO MUCH BLATHER, TIME FOR A LIST
   
    Things I am looking forward to in October:

• October 8th Professor Mine Enemy is taking any students who are interested on a hike up to/around the Hollywood Sign and then driving us to Amoeba Records. I am excited for various reasons.
• October 14th-15th is one of the campus visit weekends, and because Best Friend is a high school senior now and looking at colleges, she is visiting my college to look at it and therefore she is also staying with Roommate Courtney and me. I am going to see her again! It will be exceedingly excellent.
• I believe that on the night of the 15th the dance club (which I am in) is going out to a contra-dance studio to learn a spot of contra-dancing. Don't know if Best Friend will still be here or not, but if she is she will not object to going out dancing on a Saturday night. I am looking forward to this.
• Sometime the week after that, Best Friend's father is flying down to my campus and is taking me out for lunch. He's not coming down specifically to take me out to lunch, he's on the board of directors or trustees or something and has to go to meetings or whatever. He's actually the reason I'm here, as I would never have heard about this college if he hadn't suggested it when I was looking at colleges.

    This is me ignoring the papers, midterms, exams and book reviews due in October. Blaahh.

    STILL TOO MUCH BLATHER, HERE IS A PICTURE

Some of my classmates and me next to a piece of the Berlin Wall.

    AND ANOTHER PICTURE BECAUSE THAT WAS A LOT OF TEXT

L to R: me, roommate courtney, freshman sheilla, also my posture is not always that bad

    i think being forced to write clearly and concisely on essay questions and papers is making me take out my natural piffle-mindedness on my poor unprepared blog and my long-suffering mother, i'm going to stop writing now

fierce!

    Dear Harriet Walter,

    Here is a quote, which I found relevant to my life, from an excerpt of Airs, Waters, Places, a thing about the effects geography and climate have on societies which was probably written by a disciple of Hippocrates:

"A variable climate produces a nature which is coupled with a fierce, hot-headed and discordant temperament, for frequent fears cause a fierce attitude of mind whereas quietness and calm dull the wits."

    Emphasis mine.

    Three exams to do this week! Let me die. Well, no; let me be fierce.

    Pictures from life soon, I think. In the meantime, philosophy/theology class.

    Post-class PS: We watched the first half of The Truman Show instead of talking. Such an awesome class. I should be studying for my tests now, but I decided to screw around with my blog layout instead. (I was never going to be that kind of college student and yet here we are.) It's blue now. It has a picture of me taken at the Reagan Library and Museum last Saturday in the Air Force One exhibit thing. Doesn't it look perfectly hideous? So amateur, and I can't adjust the size or font of the blog description. Oh well. The brown was getting on my nerves. This, at least, is brighter. I'll make it yellow and white soon or something.

I blame sugar cones and my professor for everything

    Dear Harriet Walter,

    I will have been in college for exactly one full month next Monday!

    I also run a gamut of emotions regularly. I can go from utter despondence and sitting on the floor weeping over the phone to my mom to giddy spinning in chairs to exhaustion and emotional dead zones to being high on sugar and brain-buzzingness while listening to Elvis, all within less than 24 hours.

    It's still weird having a Fresh Start. None of these college people have known me very long; they all know my name, but it's still new to them when I'm being me or expressing myself in my own ways. My family will just ignore me or sometimes smile pityingly whenever I'm off doing something dumb, so I'm used to people being used to me, if that makes any sense, but here it's apparently an unusual thing to start spinning rapidly down the dorm hallway, get disoriented and smack into a wall, say "hi, wall!" and go beaming and skipping off. (I'd just gotten back from my first proper swing-dance lesson - the dance club meeting last week was just official non-dancey business - and I'd had chocolate ice cream on a sugar cone after dinner, what the frig else was I going to be doing?)

    In other news, I'm horribly behind on math, I have to write an outline for my first speech for public speaking class, Professor Mine Enemy continues to be both intimidating and to have the most exciting brain in the world, my Auntlet sent me another package and this one was full of shirts and shoes and jewelry and other odds and ends, Mother has been sending me small weekly packages full of tasty snacking-things, everything is awesome right now and in three or fours hours' time it will probably all be horrible.

    (Also, I bought the book of The Scarlet Pimpernel online. Immediately after seeing the shockingly late estimated arrival date, an idiotic little voice inside me said hey, this book is old and well loved, it is probably on Project Gutenberg, I could read the first couple of chapters online just to keep myself going. The book arrived last Tuesday, I think. I had finished reading it two weeks before.)

    (ALSO ROOMMATE COURTNEY AND R.A. AUGUST HAVE ACTUALLY BOTH READ IT WHICH MAKES ME HAPPY)

    *Edit: I forgot to add that there is absolutely no feeling in the world like being comfortably settled in one's bed and accomplishments at the end of a long day and on the far side of drifting off to sleep when it occurs to one that one did not thoroughly read one's history paper through before submitting it online and it might still have editorial comments which one might have forgotten to remove before submitting it. 
    Oh my lands it was like the floor under my bunk bed disappeared and I plunged down into a pit of ice water. That is how bad that moment was.
    Thankfully I checked the document the next day and my fears were unfounded! The paper wasn't especially good, but it had no parenthetical notes to self saying to rewrite the thesis statement, at least.

my life is basically a Greek tragedy

    Dear Harriet Walter,

    Lately I have taken to mentally listing all of my problems (which are rapidly increasing in number and panic-inducement-potential) and adding the phrase "- and I feel fine!" at the end. Actually feeling less and less over the past few days. "Fine" is a positive word for it.

    Two general, non-homework-related problems have arisen since I've been here at college. One is a puzzling and bizarre little internal emotional kerfuffle which occupies my thoughts a good chunk of all of the time and which was not a problem I expected from college even to the point of being aware of it as a possibility, and the other is the state of my feet. My feet just keep getting more and more damaged the longer I'm shuffling around in flip-flops all the time. They're not only dirty but bruised, blistered, sunburned and now scraped and oozing yellow goo. What joy.

    Now, back to math.
    (Damn everything.)

I just like bullet lists ok

    Dear Harriet Walter,

    Here is a list of things that are making me unhappy today:

• I got an hour less sleep than I intended to get.
• I have to write my first history paper by Wednesday and do not feel the least bit confident in my paper-writin' skills. I also have to pick a topic-person for my tribute speech for public speaking class and start working on that.
• I have to study math like crazy and it takes me too long to do.
• I need more time to do things in.
• I miss my mom.

    And here is a list of things that are making me happy today:

• I look nice. I've got on black shorts, a well-fitted red polo shirt and a skinny black necktie.
• I had the foresight to get two cookies at lunch. I'm always hungry after classes are done. I spent the whole of my last class thinking "there is a soft delicious chocolate chip cookie waiting for me in my messenger bag".
• Campus Beach Day is tomorrow. (Small school = we can get all of us onto a beach no problem.)
• Professor Mine Enemy was wearing a panda tie.
• Professor Mine Enemy had us do a quick quiz of five questions, but was six minutes late to class due to printer difficulties, leaving me just enough time to review the textbook chapter summaries. I got everything on the quiz right! (I'm homeschooled, okay, I've never had quizzes before, it's all new to me)
• I feel much less intimidated by Professor Mine Enemy today. Not only because of the endearing tie and the quiz success, but also this is because after class was done and I had got my books in order (one must always have one's bag ready to flee with whenever taking risks), I went up and asked him an intelligent question about a thing and he answered cheerfully and talked with me about it a bit and everything was ok. (He couldn't give me specific details on what I wanted to know about, but a general answer worked fine for me. The important bit was the encounter, not the knowledge.)
• I've signed up to join the ballroom dance club and our first meeting is this afternoon.
• This evening I'm going to go to see Laurie R King at a book signing for her latest Mary Russell mystery. (I have grown up on those books.) I am excited.

    Overall it could all be worse!

    (why am I blogging instead of studying why why why whyyy, because it helps me put things in order that's why, but I have so much to dooooo aaaagh)

Professor Mine Enemy

    Dear Harriet Walter,

    This is me today after managing to miss both breakfast and lunch. Also, I had two classes.

    I cannot handle an hour and a half of the alarming professor I mentioned before (that is, the one I've decided to be inwardly belligerent towards, the intimidating enemy-professor; Professor Mine Enemy) on a cup of coffee and a handful of fries (the latter generously donated from Upperclassman Kim's lunch). It is not to be borne. Just...no.

    Thankfully he was relatively laid-back today and talked about interesting things, so it could have been much worse.

    Whyyyyy does he remind me of Enemy/Sandy/Dr MacRae from Jean Webster's book Dear Enemy? He's not even Scottish. He's a doctor, yes, but not a doctor of medicine, just a doctor of smart things. Gah. My brain makes the weirdest connections sometimes.

    And I realized today that I really want to just adore the man, because he's so intelligent and passionate and weird and cool, but he's still intimidating and I honestly don't know if I'm going to be able to do well in his class but I really want him to think well of me but I don't know if I can make that happen through effort so really it's too emotionally dangerous to adore the man so I feel like I just need to say "arr hwar gar this is my enemy, damn that Dr S, damn him to bits! I'll show him who's a dimwit who can't keep up with what he requires of us as students!" Except that I'm the one thinking I'm a dimwit and he is probably only conscious of me as a girl who sits in the front row and looks like she's trying really hard to process everything he's saying and blah

    I'm just going to stand over here and build complicated one-sided relationships now ok

    my brain is like a foggy, sticky labyrinth made of dry twigs and unwashed wool

    blaaaahhh fear me

there is one grand thing

    Dear Harriet Walter,

    Damn. Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, baked beans, damn, damn and damn.

    (Math 100. Remedial algebra class. Didn't study math enough in high school, scored badly on math bit of SAT.)

    Damn.

    Anyway, just for kicks, here is a picture of me at La Plaza in Los Angeles taken last Saturday as I was being taught the history of the city along with most of my freshman class and a few upperclassmen. I had a squinty face but I like the lighting. (Photo by Roommate Courtney, who is very good.)

L to R: Mr B the director of student activies, Freshman Luke, me.

    Cannot wait to get my own camera. Also, extra notes:

• Mother and I have begun abbreviating "The Scarlet Pimpernel" to "Spimper" for ease of texting. It amuses.
• My Auntlet sent me - wait, have I talked about my Auntlet? She's an older woman who is one of my very best friends for life, she's not an actual aunt but I've known her since I was nine years old and within the past year or two we've become very close friends, she's the most extraordinary woman and she absolutely adores me and I literally am not even sure why - anyway my Auntlet sent me a care package containing a stuffed carrot toy/pillow thing with a happy face and arms and legs and his green leafery is boxer shorts so he's kind of upside-down and so hard to describe so here's a webcam picture:

     ...and she also sent me:

• one fancy kaleidoscope with three color-stick-things which one sticks into the kaleidoscope, 
• one tiny toy bird thing which one can stick into things and 
• two wooden tops which look either like apples or acorns, I'm not sure, but probably just mutant apples because they're red and green. 
• (Mother sent me a care package full of snacks and junk food. Thanks, Mom, I love the gummy dinosaurs!)
• I believe my Auntlet is also sending me a memory-foam mattress pad, orange Christmas lights for my dorm room and new clothes, because she's just amazing like that. She's like my fairy godmother, personal Santa Claus, Daddy-Long-Legs, cheerleader, number 1 fan, antiqueing buddy and therapist rolled into a great big beautiful mess of love and support. And why does she love me so much, anyway?! She sees right through me and understands me and loves what she sees and I don't even feel like I've deliberately revealed much of my self to her but I don't need to because she gets me and it's very alarming and unsettling because I'm a very private person and thought I was more mysterious and obscure than that augh. BLESSINGS AND GREAT FORTUNE ARE WEIRD BASICALLY

    Time for class now. Between classes and interacting alllll the tiiiiiime with other students, every day I am more and more convinced that I'm a complete idiot and haven't the wits of a fish that was dropped as a baby. It's very Socratic.
 
(post-class PS: the title of this post is from my notes on the word "monists", which I learned today in my philosophy/theology class)

college/ugh i just love his hat so much

    Dear Harriet Walter,

    This is how long I have been at college.

    I would write more - there's certainly plenty to talk about - but right now I need to study like an angry badger.