The past week has been interesting, to say the least. Usual in it’s irregularities. Unusual in its mindless natures. And all-together, a roller coaster.
Sunday can be summed up by this:
J: I’m just going to pull a U-turn.
Missi: No. Just keep going; I’m sure we can find a place to turn around after this overpass.
J: Missi, don’t scream–
And then we were in a car accident.
Monday was monotony. I performed a speech that I had pulled together that morning, and did other mindless activities.
Tuesday was the same story, only even less memorable.
Wednesday let the week pick up momentum. I carved a pumpkin in the living room with my dorm house, we partied to celebrate a girl’s birthday, and there was much laughing and eating of snacks. I am constantly reminded why I chose Truman when I walk into the living room and see ten people sharing food made in our kitchen and watching an episode of Family Guy together. Our relationships are unique and amazing in that we actually all get along and hang out with each other. Many lounges on campus end up looking quite empty, and no one knows each other. They’re missing out on such a great opportunity.
By the way, here’s a picture of the pumpkin I carved. It was modelled off of my own awkward, mean-muggin’ face.
Thursday began with my roomie pulling open the blinds and remarking at the odd sunrise. I quickly hopped from bed and looked out. The sky was a brilliant yellow and orange amongst grey clouds. Raindrops hung from our window screen, and everything looked rather menacing. We took pictures of our tree outside of the window, but the yellow didn’t show up. So the picture below has been editted to look like the original. And, yes. It really did look like this:
I went into the kitchen later that morning to make some pumpkin seeds from my pumpkin carving that I had made the evening before, and a friend and I ended up studying for psychology together. The window beside our kitchen table showed the steady pour of rain, lightly mixing mud and grass together. We closed our books at fifteen minutes until class and pulled on our jackets that would best repel rain and marched out (without umbrellas, may I add).
We had thought that it was raining lightly, and maybe it had been when we were studying in the kitchen, but the Kirksville sky was now angry. Rain drops as large as nickels splashed down, harder, faster, drenching everything. We simply looked at each other and started walking a few steps.
“We should run,” he mentioned.
“Really?” I asked. I had rain boots on, so I wasn’t opposed. Suddenly, we were running towards the nearest building. The rain broke into my clothes, soaked through my freshly dried hair, and blocked our vision. We wrenched open the doors of the Kirk building and paused for a minute, looking at each other. His long hair was soaked. My bangs were flooding like streams into my eyes. Quickly, we walked through the building to the end and plotted our next move against the rain. It was like HvZ all over again, but the rain was winning.
We ended up deciding to make a run for it to class, two buildings away, and we darted out. My vision was completely blurred by the rain and my own hair, and my boots were splashing through inches of water on the sidewalks. Somehow, within a minute, we were ripping the doors to Violette hall open and running inside. We looked over at each other. His grey jacket and turned black. My light wash jeans were now dark. And our hair was absolutely soaked.
“I didn’t even need to have taken a shower this morning,” I laughed, squeezing puddles of water from my hair, from my jacket, from my bag, from my inner jacket. The water had completely won.
We walked into class with some other kids. Most had brought umbrellas (mine had been broken, which is why I didn’t have it), and the ones who hadn’t were easy to identify. One of my friends from my psychology project was next to me, ripping his shoes off. They were completely soaked through, and he sat them in the front of the classroom to dry during the lecture. I followed suit with both of my jackets and tried to put up with my freezing, completely wet jeans.
When class ended, my clothes were still wet (and it had been an hour and a half), so I just didn’t care any more. I drudged through a lake gathering in front of an academic building that was nine inches deep, and then ran back to Mo hall with my friend. His hair was still wet, as was mine, and we didn’t even care about getting more wet. It’s just that it was very cold, so we took a detour through BNB in order to keep from possibly dying. Upon our return to Mo, we quickly changed into dry clothes and headed off for lunch. There, my friend Noah ended up meeting with us. All of us were informed that the entirety of Red Barn Park was flooded, and Noah and I ended up leaving lunch early in order to run there and see it.
Of course, by that time, it was only misting–which meant that the flooding was quickly going to go down since it had been the stream that had flooded into the park in the first place.
The park itself was an interesting sight, all the same. A pond had formed next to the fast moving stream (which now resembled a small river), debris lied over the bridge, showing that the water had come up by about seven feet recently, and a park bench had been moved by the flood waters into a lamp-post, leaving it teetering on it’s back feet.
I was wearing rain boots, so I ventured into the flooded pond. The water was murky with mud and over a foot deep in some spots. Slowly, it drained into the flooded stream, and Noah and I were mystified by the flooding. There’s no way to describe how cool it looked. It sounds simple… barely like a flood. But we had seen small floods like this become something great, and maybe that’s why I cracked Flood of ’93 jokes all day. As residents along the Missouri River, we had learned first hand as children about the power the river had over our daily lives. We learned that tiny ponds in a backyard could become something dangerous, and that there were forces we couldn’t control.
The day ended with more rain, and a pond forming around our dorm rooms. And, in the words of a girl from my hall, “Missi! We now live in a Lake Side Terrace!”
There was mud everywhere from the rain before, but the sun was out, along with the wind. After my last class, around one thirty, I carved out a second pumpkin with my friend Rebecca down at the student centre. It was free, and I enjoyed making a free-hand witch’s face on it while she made her pumpkin a commemorative piece to awkward, moustached faces. Later, I walked to a coffee shop in town to read and drink something warm (because it got drastically colder as the windy day stretched on), and then I watched movies with friends in the lounge.
Saturday was Halloween, and the day consisted of me dressing up as Hermione Granger, decorating our living room, and getting ready for trick-or-treaters who would come through the dorm. My roommate was dressed as Alice from Alice in Wonderland, so I ended up changing to be the Queen of Hearts by wearing my black prom dress and attaching hearts cards to a black necklace. Finishing up a tiara and some Chucks, it actually made a decent outfit. We then sat in the lounge and handed out candy to the children of Kirksville, which was rather enjoyable. Later, I attended a dance over at Centennial with Rebecca, Noah, and about ten other friends, then watched Young Frankenstein back in the living room until a little past midnight. Then, it was time for bed and the setting back of the clocks (so you could say that I got to bed before midnight, but saw midnight as well).
Today has been more average. I didn’t get my studying finished, I have to meet at West Campus for a meeting with my art group at eight, and I made a little stop by Walmart with friends. All in all, usual.
But that was my week. And it was nice to actually write it all down, even if nobody’s going to read it–mainly because I just wanted to be able to record these things. I’ve felt too lazy lately to actually diary anything, so this is a faster approach. So, adios.