The Myth & The Majesty

It's hard to describe one's feelings upon returning to school. Actually, that's a lie. It's pretty easy to describe those feelings. First, there's excitement over seeing people again. Then, there's exhaustion after moving things into your room (assuming, of course, that you're living in a dorm). Next comes dread as you realize you have to buy books. And somewhere in there, at least if you're me, there's that overwhelmed sensation as you start meetings and realize what exactly you've gotten yourself into. Yup. That pretty muchly sums up what I've felt in the last few days. Oh yeah, and for me, Storm-sick. Not terribly homesick, mind you. Just Storm-sick. :( I can't wait till Christmas break. Everybody's back, as far as I can tell. Now that my floor's all singles, "everybody" is a much smaller number than it used to be. It's kind of nice -- not nearly as much congestion in the bathroom, and it&#

Interesting. I just took a few minutes to read through some recent posts of fellow bloggers, and I'm feeling a bit alarmed. Nothing quite beats push-button publishing to bring out the rotten spellers. Okay, okay, that's not entirely fair. A lot of those people can spell just fine. But a lot of them can't. (Now every time I make a spelling error, I'm going to get emails telling me so. Oops.) Actually, most of them could be easily classified into two groups: the "I'm just keeping it real with my homies" group (did I just say that?), and the "I'm trying to have a long-distance educational experience with several of my colleagues" group. That is to say, people could be grouped into teenagers or the overly intellectual. Both said groups are interesting to observe. You've got those who use every shortcut in the book while they're writing so they type fewer letters (and look "cool") and then you've got those who see

Ouch. Okay, so I raced home from Storm Mountain on Tuesday, very much against my will. Why? So that yesterday I could face one of my biggest fears: the oral surgeon. That's right, I was lucky enough to have my wisdom teeth removed. Yippee-ki-yi-yay. My mom drove me into the doctor's office at promptly 9:30 in the morning, where I got to sign a couple pieces of paper (sure, you can use my old medical files) and sit. And sit and sit and sit. Fine, it was only about 20 minutes' worth of sitting, but you try sitting still when you know you're about to go under the knife. None of said teeth had poked through yet, so they all had to be dug out. And when I say "all," I mean all four, top and bottom, left and right. The doctor (who vaguely resembled the most forgettable face in history) tells me all this, then runs through the actual procedure, which, to me, sounded rather similar to medieval torture rituals. Next, they excuse my mom, which is my cue to

What a summer. It was ... amazing. Uplifting. A lot of fun. Awesome. Um ... Really really good. (Please excuse me while I run out of fitting adjectives.) So here I am, back at home, getting ready to start school again, but my brain keeps hopping back to Storm Mountain and the people I had to leave there. The truth? I don't want to go back to Tech. Unfortunately, my real desire right now (reliving the summer) isn't really an option. How to describe the perfect summer ... I was where I was supposed to be. When things first started, our group meshed almost instantly. Sure, there were a few problems (what do you expect when eleven people live, work, and hang out together?), but as a general rule, we all got along. It was a good mix, too -- different ages, different majors, different backgrounds, altogether different personalities. The work wasn't bad, either. Granted, you can only clean toilets for so long before you get sick of them (sorry Kellie, that was more