With no real programs left to run in Orientation, the next two days I'm free to go to Bumbershoot, Radiohead, and do whatever drinking I need to prepare me for the start of classes on Tuesday.
Without Bielecki around, the place really dies I must say. He's out for the weekend with a friend of his from Flagstaff, leaving me to drink alone.
Also, I think that I must be long-winded sometimes. Tonight I found myself chatting just to fill in silence when it was there. I mean that I find myself talking more than other people I'm with on many occasions, I don't talk to myself.
And now I'm going to sleep.
I'm discovering to what extent I'm an irritable person recently. For some reason, people have been bugging me alot more than I remeber they used to. Not people in general: certain ones that I'm stuck being in contact with through orientation, mutual friends, or like causes.
Maybe I'm just hungry.
'i still don't understand why someone i would chose as a friend would have bad taste in friends. . . unless i hate myself.'
- T-Bone's thoughts on sucky mutual friendships.
We finally have internet running in our house now. That means you can expect more consistent updates from now on. Whether I'll have anything worthwhile to say or not is another story.
Yesterday saw the heated debate as to the worthiness of calling ahead to The Cellar when all your ordering is a milkshake. Jared was stupidly trying to convince me that it needs to be done, while it was my insightful opinion that milkshakes are quick enough to wait for on the spot. If you want a pizza or cheesesticks in a timely manner, that's another story. I just can't justify the effort to pick up the phone for a shake that's made in thirty seconds anyway.
The new tandem bike has been a huge hit around campus. Everytime I ride by, the Freshmen get big sheepish grins as though they're embarrased for me. Mark and I are contemplating buffing it up so we can start trying crazy stunts with it. Like double Evil Knevils. Only without the motor.
Training for the 'New Student' Orientation is in full swing now. We're strongly scolded for calling them "Freshman." Instead, we're to refer to them as either "New Students" (including all Freshman as well as the transfers) or "First Years."
Personally, I can't see how either of those are better. "Freshman," the word itself has no connotation of being 'lesser' aside from the one its gained from years of use. Automatically however, the other titles imply 'Newbie,' or 'First-timer' status. But these are the official monikers of the UPS Student Development office nontheless.
Has there ever been a question as to the distractive power that Lindsey has on me? You Flagstaff boys know it well I think.
We just got back from a hike up near Mount Ranier that was a mixed success. In the end I returned with two blisters the size of both my heels and one nasty bug that Lindsey is convinced is Ghiardia. Fun stuff.
Now I get to move in to my new house with a food retaining power that lasts about two hours.
Yesterday, I got the chance to go sailing with my advisor, Alan Thorndike. He's got this gigantic, two-mast, wooden boat that he brings students and friends out on as much as he can, it seems like. Yesterday in particular was a good trip: the wind was just right and the company was great. Mark and I agreed that it was the best sail we've had yet (with Alan).
The funny thing is, the trip inspired me even more to look into film school for next year. Alan told us about his daughter who is just working on her doctorate in film at NYU. He actually strongly urged me to look into it: he said he would work with me on a project designing special effects or something (pyrotechnics and the like) as an independant study this next year.
How funny is that?
I'm back in action now after a fun outing to the Olympic Peninsula with my dad. This was to make up for the road trip that I missed with him last year (when he was going to come to Flagstaff at the end of my internship). We spent a solid two-and-a-half days stopping at different spots and hiking back into the woods.
It's interesting how long you can go without knowing things about your family. I found out that my dad was a member of a Junior Masons society. Something called DeMolay that's offered for the youth of Master Masons. It turns out that I come from a family with ties to the Masons: my grandpa was part of the Masons himself, while my great-grandpa was a 33rd order Mason - the highest you can be. My dad himself was a Chevalier within the DeMolays, again the highest honor. My aunt was something within the Daughters of Job too.
It just really makes me wonder how many odd things there are that I'll never know about my own parents.