Category archives for school
A few weeks ago, I had my last shifts at JOE and the Kelly Writers House; last week, I graduated from Penn; and in three weeks, I move to the Pacific Northwest.
Last night, Ben and Nolan and I drank champagne in the backyard out of mason jars; then Ben and I walked down all of campus, pointing out all the important places and ending at the Button, sitting there for a long time, thinking.
This afternoon, I’ll drive Ben to the airport and put boxes in my parents’ car. I’m selling books and coffee equipment; giving away old clothes and unused makeup; stacking books to bring with me. As Ana told Jessica, I’m kind of going just to go, to go. I do have a job, a safety-net and an assurance; for that, I’m so grateful and I’m excited. It’s true, though, that I’ve picked Vancouver as somewhere new, from-scratch, and also kind and safe. I’m excited.
This week, I reread Gilead. I couldn’t believe how much of it mattered so much to me. This book nearly created me in some ways, and so it reflects the way I think and what I believe.
All that is fine, but it’s your existence I love you for, mainly. Existence seems to me now the most remarkable thing that could ever be imagined.
Marilynne Robinson, Gilead
Lamb Roast, April 2014 (taken by Janelle); Pedernales Falls State Park, Texas, March 2014.
Last fall, I wrote a piece on Jewish life at Penn, about Christianity and Judaism and about faith and religion. You can read it now online via Penn Filament: Hear, O Israel. Enjoy.
Today I wanted to do handsprings.
Last year I made a list of
THINGS I LOVE ABOUT COLLEGE
8am meetings that seem TOO EARLY
calling someone to come over RIGHT NOW
walking home from someone’s house at 3am
using words like “cray” in emails scheduling meetings
talking about laundry
not having eaten/weird meals
when everyone wears weird/unacceptable club/team/group clothing
when everyone sees the same shows
family replacement dinners
missing school over break
joyful reunions at the end of long weekends or one-week-long breaks
finals weeks fall and spring
when people bring you coffee
all the books ever at your library
people who like to read
people who are smarter thank you know/think/than they seem
Two weeks ago, I wrote
. . .
It’s true, unquestionably now. The last important people haven’t arrived but they’re coming in soon, and my bookshelves and drawers aren’t full but I’ve spent more nights here than there this week anyway.
This summer, 2013, is gone, and we’re slipping into the school year. Four weeks from now, we’ll be indignant: behind on work, skipping events to write overdue papers, underslept and underfed and recognizing the grime on sinks and floors.
. . .
We’re getting there now, but it has a glory.