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Posts Tagged ‘Truman’

It’s storming.  One of those off and on rains where thunder rumbles in a lower pitch than normal, far out, warning you that the drizzle could pick back up at any moment and then thrash at your windows, knock you down.  The sky, now dark, was the orange of sunset through storm clouds that makes you wonder if there will be a tornado, but you just want to sleep or stare at it instead.  It’s one of those evenings.

Life has settled back down for me at uni.  Classes have picked up, and I’m facing an exam in every class within one week of each other, and now it’s the mad game of reading every chapter that I had put off.  I joined Ceilidh (pronounced Kayleigh) club, which is Irish dancing, and that’s been enjoyable.  Difficult, of course–muscle memory doesn’t just come on it’s own–but enjoyable none the less.  And I rearranged my furniture yesterday to deloft my bed and get a more comfortable layout (yes, there will eventually be pictures).

Today was one of those big visit days on campus where all of the high school seniors come in to tour campus and think about applying, which means that I spent nearly an hour and a half giving tours to families.  It’s one of my favourite activities on campus, and I want to apply to give full campus tours next year (hey, I’m technically a professional tour-guide because of my work–they’ll have to hire me!).  What’s really cool about Truman is that there will be people at each dorm to give a personalised tour of said dorm with just one family at a time; it’s a major improvement over the schools that will take twenty people in a group to see a couple places.  The tours were so much fun, too.  I had great groups of people, including a group of two best-friends who had forgone bringing their parents along for the visit.  They saw my Skittles machine and freaked out, so I let them put in coins to get candy, and when the tour was going to be over, they asked if it had to be over because they were enjoying the tour so much.  So, I just ended up showing them all kind of other places in MO hall, including the room of some people none of us knew but who invited us to see their awesomely artsy room.  All-in-all, a great day of tours (and some people who now for sure want to live in Missouri Hall.  Booyah).

Not much else to say; I’ll finish up with a musical quote that I like and some dorm photos:

“Hundreds of years in the future,
It could be computers
Looking for life on Earth.”

-Coldplay, Twisted Logic

(PS: IT’S TOTALLY STORMING NOW!)

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As part of a “Why I Love Truman” series, here are some beautiful photos of campus that I took this noon.  I’m so blessed to live on the most gorgeous campus in all of Missouri.

I hope that you enjoyed some of the pictures of campus.  My camera is complete crap; maybe I’ll get a new one over the summer that does not inform me that it is “processing” for a full minute between each photo.

Oh, and while I was taking pictures, I SAW A GRIM!

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I have a smorgasbord of things to say, some of which are updates, others of which are house keeping notes.  But let me begin by saying that I’m pretty sick right now, skipping my German and physics class, and am trying to just rest myself up.  Thus, I have a little extra time to scatter some thoughts.

– – –

For those of you whom I am not friends with on Facebook (which, if you read my blog and we aren’t, you should add me), here is a video that has been circulating via Youtube for the past month or two.  It is a compilation of the top 25 hits in the US last year, and DJ Earworm somehow took 25 very awful songs and made them into something quite wonderful.  If you are interested in a feel good kind of song or just want to admire the work that went into it, check che-check check check che-check it out!

Blame it on the Pop 2009 – DJ Earworm

But, yeah, feeling pretty ill.  I went to bed last night with a stomach ache (which I attributed to drinking a McDonald’s milk shake and eating fries, neither of which are that easy on my stomach), but I also woke up with a stomach ache and sore throat.  And, as the morning has gone by, you can add a headache and fatigue to that.  I realise that this is a whole culmination of factors: I haven’t been getting enough sleep over the past two weeks, I’m constantly around sick people (whaddup dorms?), and my stress level has been through the roof for a month straight.  So, it comes as no surprise that my body is rebelling against me.  Seriously, take a listen to my stomach; it sounds like my internal organs are waging war against one another.

– – –

Meanwhile, I was looking through the WordPress features and found that there is a poll, so be prepared to answer a question from me below.  It’s basically getting a feel for my readers.  Getting used to having people actually read what I write is a new concept, so you could call this experimentation or information gathering on my part.

…Or not; I can’t seem to get this working.  So, I’ll just ask the question straight out and try to make it look pretty for you:

What most interests you about the Missi(world) blog?

1. University Life

2. Psychology, Philosophy, and Religion

3. Mental Health

4. Family and Friends

5. Reviews

6. Pff, I’ll read what you give me.

7. None of it is interesting.

8. Other

Leave me a comment to tell the answer.  Some time, I’ll get a poll that actually works.  If you know how to insert that, tell me.

– – –

I’ve been watching a bit of news today, mostly passively with my friends in the lounge.  It’s because, even though I really wanted to sleep after my psych class, there were too many tours running through my room.  Spring time is when all of the seniors and juniors in Missouri come and visit Truman, and since my room is one of the model rooms, we’ve been flooded all day.  Usually, we get about one or two tours per day, today’s, it’s barely noon, and we’ve already had nearly ten.  Woah.  So, that killed my plans for a nap.  Instead, there has been tv, chatting with friends, and playing games on my laptop.  In a way, I’m doing a lot of avoiding.  There’s a hefty amount of psych reading to do, but I’ve been trying to escape my own mind instead.  There are so many thoughts bouncing around; sometimes I wish that I could just shut off my inner monologue.  Distracting myself is the best thing that I can do, and I’ve been doing that a whole lot lately.

– – –

It’s warm today.  Was warm yesterday, as well.  So nice, in fact, that I took my psychology text out to a picnic table by the Student Union Building and Library so that I could read in the sun.  I was able to lounge about for two hours and finished a chapter and started another.  But, the sky was blue, with few clouds during the afternoon and evening.  Because it was so warm and clear, my friends and I went to Train Bridge last night–that bridge over train tracks where, once a train comes, a giant gust of air comes to greet you.  It sounds a little dull, but let me explain.  Train Bridge is in the middle of fucking nowhere.  Really, it takes nearly 25 minutes to get there because of all of the back roads, and you end up on gravel patches in the middle of farms and woods.  Then, there is this shady bridge with only a two to three foot rail on both sides.  It’s pitch black.  So dark that, when you get out of your car, and the headlights go out, you cannot see a single thing and are forced to stumble to the bridge, following the voices of those around you.

What you can see, though, are stars.  Thousands and thousands of stars.  More stars than I had ever seen in my life.  Even while driving there, you could see the stars through the wind-shield or windows.  The Milky Way hovers above you, with each constellation shining brightly.  It’s so beautiful.

We walked down a shady lane past the bridge, our eyes only allowing us to see the two different shades of blackish brown on the ground–the difference between mud and grass.  We scared ourselves, and I ended up deciding for the group when we would turn around and run back to the bridge to wait for a train.  But we didn’t have to wait too long.  As soon as we had run back from the scary lane, the light and horn of a train could be seen a mile or two off.  Our group of eight, and the ten or fifteen other people who were there, ducked behind the rail, hiding so that the train wouldn’t slow down from seeing us.  We waited, hearts pounding.  The three lights of the train were all we could see, coming closer, closer, closer.  And right when the sound of the train became too loud, and it looked like we were going to be hit, we stood.

And the horn went off, forcing us to cover our ears, and the gust of wind came like a hurricane.  With each train car, another gust, blowing all of your hair back, striping scarves from necks, making you lose your balance.  It’s frightening in the dark with the noise and air, but it is worth every second.  Oh, Train Bridge.  This is what we do for fun up at Truman.

Tomorrow, it’s supposed to snow several inches.  Ugh.  Temperamental weather.  But such is life.

Anyway, welcome to house keeping.  It’s a bunch of random things that I felt like saying that don’t mean much.  Hope you enjoyed.

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I’m fairly certain that God was making tapioca pudding last night.  He mixed the ingredients well, cooked it up, then placed in a large glass bowl and into the refrigerator so it could cool.  Unfortunately, God hasn’t updated his kitchen in a while (after all of the years, who can keep track of the last remodelling, anyway?), and it seems the back of his fridge must have fallen off recently.  You can tell because all of the tapioca pudding in the pretty glass dish has crashed upon Kirksville.

I awoke this morning to the sounds of thunder and Nickel Creek, a surprising combination.  Minutes after, I was reawakened by the sound of sharp rain.  Loud rain.  Only after I got out of my lofted bed did I realise that it was sleet and freezing rain.  So when I finally walked to class at 8.30, I became suddenly aware of what must have happened to God’s pudding.

All around was the ice.  Plastered to trees, railings, and the ground.  That must have been that pretty glass bowl.  And mixed in was the tapioca.  Thick like fish eggs all over the ground, giving your morning walk to class a gushy and otherwise slippery sensation.

Poor God, I suppose he’ll have to make some more pudding for lunch.  Luckily, it shouldn’t take too long.  And maybe He’ll find that it’s time to renovate the kitchen.

A small example of this tapioca pudding sleet.

With every step, you could hear the trees creak and moan.  The weight of the ice has probably caused some limb damage around Kirksville.

My bike has seen quite a beating over the past few months.  Poor thing.  I’ll have to take it home, refill the empty tire, and scrub off the rust.  What a shame that it was so expensive and now so useless.

Seriously!  This rust is ridiculous.  My poor, poor bike!

I couldn’t even turn the handlebars because of the layer of ice.

This is what Mo hall looks like in front of my window.  My room is on the first level, behind this lovely tree so full of ice.

Missouri knows how to turn ice storms into something beautiful, that’s for sure.

(In all seriousness, there was a bit of freezing rain last night that turned into a hefty amount of sleet.  It’s slick and mushy out there, so be cautious and wear boots!  Also, avoid driving and standing under trees; they’re really quacking with the weight of the ice.  The temperature is dropping steadily, so patches of rain will turn into sleet/snow again, and water on the sidewalks will refreeze tonight and tomorrow morning.  Be wary if the salt trucks have not swung by.)

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Thanksgiving is one week more, but that doesn’t keep me from flitting about in joy and anticipation.  My house is restless with break starting tomorrow evening, and there has been an increase in students either not giving a shit about homework and reading or simply not giving a shit about even turning up for class.  My psychology class this morning was missing a full third of its population–something rare with my strict teacher.

So, for the moment, I’m sitting in my room, checking Facebook, fiddling with the heater, and listening to a Pandora.com channel modelled after Lord of the Rings and Adiemus.  As my legs jitter below my desk, my eyes keep being pulled to the window.  Interesting people.  Many interesting people.  Men in tight, wool coats riding bicycles to class.  Someone smoking.  Another walking in his hooded sweatshirt.  I enjoy people watching, and it’s even more enjoyable during these moments of anticipation.

Tomorrow I will leave.  Leave.

To be honest, I’m unsure about that.  It will be nice to see my family, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to handle nine days with them; hell, I was suffering after two days earlier in the semester.  I fit at Truman.  Not Kirksville; the town is too tiny and uncultured.  But I certainly fit on campus.  I love my house, our discussions, movie nights, trips to Train Bridge.  I think what gets me so much is that we act like a family rather than just some kids forced to live together.  We’re always together, helping each other out, recommending new music and films, allowing each other to de-stress.  We act differently from other houses on campus, and we’re closer.

I’ll miss them over the break, and we’ll miss each other.  We may actually visit each other over break, too.  My friend Aaron lives in St. Louis, and we may meet up at some point.  Speaking of which, he recently did some modelling work for Mother Models.  I’ll copy in the link to his photos with Valeska.  Take a peek.

http://www.corridor40.com/2009/11/editorials/days-of-future-passed

That’s about it, though.  I’ll be going back to my jittering now.

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I’m sorry for the belatedness of this post.  It’s not that I’ve been too terribly busy (though I have been rather swept away by course work over the past month), but I have been lazy.  For that, I apologise.

Day four of HvZ was, by all extensive purposes, the final day of actual playing.  I began the Saturday morning relaxed, went to Walmart, then ended up getting trapped in R’s dorm.  It seemed obvious that I would have to stay in Centennial until nightfall, so I pulled out my laptop to browse the web and do homework.  While routinely checking my E-mail, I discovered that there would be mission for the humans in ten minutes and that it would be inside of Centennial.

So, in my slip-on shoes and pajama shirt, I trudged down to the main lobby in Centennial, armed with eleven socks.  Gathered there were approximately thirty to forty humans, with nerf guns and hard core weaponry.  It became immediately obvious that I was in a different class of survivors, and I would most likely not be returning from this mission human.

The mission started out simply–save a girl from Red Barn Park.  We didn’t see a single zombie during the first part of the mission, and we managed to get inside of McGruder in safety.  From there, though, we were told to hold down three separate places for five minutes each, without the subject being killed by a zombie.  And we had little more than a half hour at that point.  It was a mission made for us to fail.

We ran around hopelessly in McGruder, as a horde of sixty plus zombies surrounded the building and our target area of the fountain.  They watched our every move from the glass walls, and we ran around trying to find alternate areas to escape and decimate the forces.  Unfortunately, our numbers had been split from their original, and there were only fifteen to twenty humans.  One by one, we lost more, with over ten dying in a massacre as they tried to storm out of the building.  Somehow, at ten till the end of the mission (when, if we did not pass, it would mean that humans officially lost the entire game) I became one of five humans left standing.  How on Earth had I gotten here?  The four others around me were ready to storm out, kill as many zombies as possible before we died.

One kid ran out, suicide, to give us a chance, and we ran out.

I stunned one of my friends who had turned on the second day, and then another.  My socks were power.  My gun given to me by suicide-kid became something to be feared.  Yet, we were losing.  Two of our four were taken, and it left me and another man as the only humans left.

We walked side by side away from our small battle and towards a horde of sixty zombies at the fountain.  My friend Franz was on the other side, bandanna on head, looking mischievous.  He pointed at me in surprise.  I pointed back.  It was like something from a movie, as the two of us walked intensely toward the horde.

What was not like a movie, was the zombie (whom I thought had been stunned before) ran behind me and the man, tagging both of us at the same time and running forward, hands stretched up to the sky in triumph.

And that’s why I tyed to be the last human killed on the last mission.

Other humans remained, yes.  But I had been turned one minute before the end of the mission, and when that one minute passed, it meant that all humans left were dead.  They would get a more official death the next day when the zombies were allowed to simply destroy all of them.  But, it was the end.

I couldn’t believe that I had gotten this far.  It was… simply amazing.  I’m definitely playing next semester, and I’m going to sign up to try and be the original zombie.

I cannot wait.

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I made it to Walmart and back without seeing a single zombie, and I felt sure that I could then stay in Mo hall for the rest of the day.  Unfortunately, I then went to R’s dorm over in Centennial.  While filling up my water bottle in the hallway, I became surrounded by seven zombies.  Granted, I was indoors, so they couldn’t tag me.  But that doesn’t matter.  What does matter, is that I’m now trapped in Centennial until I can get around zombies who are surrounded the building.

So, I’m hiding on R’s room-mate’s bed, doing homework and watching Mean Girls while R and N are texting our Mizzou friends with gossip.  They’ve started some shit with each other, and I’m staying uninvolved, as usual.  But I’m one to avoid trouble or mediate if I get into it.  So, thus I’m being reclusive.

I’m a bit angry at myself for getting into this trap, though.  There’s no point in even leaving R’s room until after dark.  And since it’s a sunny day today, that will be an hour later.  So, I’m stuck here for another six hours.

Luckily, I planned ahead a little bit.  I brought my laptop so that I can type up two reports for art and my public speaking outline (not to mention for blogging and Facebook and BBC news).  Also with me are my text books for psychology and maybe history (if I was smart enough to bring it along).  Though, I’m pretty sure I didn’t bring along my syllabus, so it doesn’t really matter–which sucks since history is my favourite subject this semester.  It’s the only homework that I actually enjoy doing, since history is like a story.  Hell, it has the word “story” in it.  After that, I really enjoy learning psychology, though the heavy work load gets dull.

So, let’s hope that I can get through this.  Only two of my thirteen friends who ended up playing are left, and I want to be able to beat them.  Yeah, that’s really lame.  But seeing as how there are only 92 humans left out of the original 331, I’m getting pretty competitive.  Again, lame.

Know what else is really lame?  That I’m trapped here.  At least there’s a cafeteria inside of the building, so I’m good on food.  Speaking of, I’m going to go grab a bite to eat.

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