The Myth & The Majesty

There have been some things on my mind lately: summer jobs, the health of my friends, classes, tests, and so on. But one thing keeps popping up, over and over again: "So THIS is what it's like to grow up." The thing is, I don't feel grown up. I still like to play in the rain , go sledding , curl up and watch a Disney movie. I still enjoy playing with toys at Toys 'R Us. I still want to call my mom every time something goes wrong and let her fix it. But, as time goes on, I find myself suppressing some of those urges--especially calling my mom because I got a boo-boo. It's just not dignified. We let loose from time to time, sure. We like to play. We like to goof off. However, we're all coming to the general conclusion that you can't do that all the time. We still have to go to class, do laundry, go grocery shopping ... We can play, but we have to be adults every now and then. We have to take responsibility for our own lives. This see

WOOT! It doesn't rain much around here, but last night--wow. Last night, the sky decided to fall on Rapid City. It started as some distant thunder and a few storm warnings. Then, with a crack of lightning, the sky opened up and the rain came much as the Flood of ancient history. Few things bring college students out of their rooms like a downpour. Half of my hall poured out in various forms. We jumped around for a moment, then ducked into hiding when the hail hit. A few moments later, the puddles started to form ... A horde of boys from upstairs went for a quick run (without shirts, naturally). The rest of us splashed each other. Then, the news: a lake was forming behind the building. Voom, we're on it like white on rice. We jump, we dive, we splash, we swim, we kick, we chase after floating flip-flops. After a week of pure hell--tests, homework, and strangely conflicting stressors--this was what we needed. This half-hour release refreshed us. Mother N

Okay, so I'm postponing the maturity rant for a little while. TOO MUCH has happened in the last week. And, since some people actually DO read this, I figured I'd keep you up to date on the happenings in my life and the lives of others. EVENT #1: I have been offered and accepted the position of small group coordinator for IVCF next year, which puts me on the exec, the "governing body" of said group. I can't wait ... It's gonna be a fun year. EVENT #2: In a freak raquetball incident Wednesday night, my roommate broke her ... knuckle. And managed to, essentially, dislocate her wrist. I missed the drive to the emergency room, but got to help her do her hair the next morning. (Don't think I can't see you cringe. I know how bad I am with other people's hair, thank you very much.) EVENT #3: In an unrelated accident very early Thursday morning, my small group co-leader fell out of bed and broke his toe. Wouldn't have been so bad except

Ah, girlfriendisms. On behalf of well-meaning girlfriends (and wives) everywhere, I'm sorry. I'm sorry we bombard you with questions that have no good answer, I'm sorry we expect you to read our minds, and I'm sorry we have some strange fetishes for trapping you in a situation that, no matter what, you will NOT come out of in one piece. It's truly unfair. There are some things I DON'T apologize for, however. I don't apologize for when we're upset and get frustrated that you don't notice. And I don't apologize for when we expect you to remember something important and get annoyed when you forget. When I say "important," I'm not talking about her cousin's husband's birthday. Sometimes, it's sheer luck that WE remember. But if you forget your girlfriend's birthday, or our big anniversary (i.e. wedding or "first date" anniversary, whichever you are up to in your particular stage of life), there will be hell

SNOW DAY!! SNOW DAY!! SNOW DAY!! For the first time in my college career, I got a SNOW DAY yesterday. Awesomeness. Seriously. Nothing beats a foot of snow and no real homework (since I got it done the night before, knowing that if I didn't, classes would go on as scheduled). Nothing quite beats sledding with a bunch of hyped-up collegiates on a day like that. I'm bored. I'll admit it. The only thing that would get me out here, on this "computer" (a Sun Machine, which rates second in lack of electronic ability, with only a manual typewriter coming in after it), typing various dribble in this thing is sheer boredom. And I possess it right now. The answer is three. Just for the record. People are going ice skating. I'd like to go join them, since it's free and all, but for the life of me, I can't work up the desire. I'm too bloody tired. Darren's telling me to write about Band-Aid residue. Maybe I'll save that f