As asked for by my adoring public (hey tmaster…let me dream (: ), here is my humerous column from the last issue of The Review
I officially deemed myself the busiest person on campus last week, but only for the week. Thankfully things have calmed down considerably this week.
Not that I was complaining, I was busy with things that I loved doing: this issue, the Plansbook for the Yahoo! campaign for Advertising Club, and putting the final touches on the Koinonia Retreat. But throw in eighteen credits, countless meetings and interviews and it creates a very hectic schedule.
Martha Stewart recently began the house-arrest stage of her sentence. She must stay in her mansion except for a maximum of 48 hours each week. I don’t think I spend that much time each week in my room in Gerry. But then again, I’m sure I couldn’t make a Cobb Salad quite like Martha could (I’ll leave that to Mary at Bravisimo).
This issue also marks a milestone in The Review’s history, this is the first issue printed since our office was rearranged. Not big news I assure you, but still a nice change for the staff and myself.
I discussed in my last column the strange affect college seems to have on time and I’d like to revisit that thought for a moment. After coming back from break it seemed that we had been back at school for weeks, possibly even months. However, we had only been back on campus for a mere five days. While at the same time, the individual days seemed to fly past. Just an observation of mine.
The prevalent memory in my mind from the last few weeks would have to be my falling a lot.
Please imagine those wavy lines that sitcoms use when they go into flashback mode (just for affect mind you).
I was in The Shack, minding my own business, I had bought lunch and was heading over the office to work on this issue. I was in flip-flops (because I really don’t wear anything else) which don’t offer the best traction (hindsight is always 20-20). I was not paying attention and slipped on a puddle of Pepsi.. Ever so gracefully I floundered and fell hard on my hip.
No real damage done, just mostly a bruised ego (due mostly to the table of freshmen laughing at me… such is life I suppose). With as much dignity as I could muster I recollected my lunch (with the help of a passer-by), put on my headphones and headed to the office.
Fast forward to the weekend. During the 30-hour-famine, Alpha Phi Omega hosted a leadership conference entitles ‘Launch.’ I was walking to Prep and decided to go down the hill, through Lot N and behind the pool to make my way across campus. Unbeknownst to me, the hillside besides Gerry was more or less a mud-slide. Once again I found myself on my hip, although this time I was also sliding down a hill.
After picking myself up and replacing my headphones, I headed back upstairs, quickly changed and high-tailed it over to Prep. If not for the mud covering my bookbag, I don’t think those at the conference would have believed me.
The moral of these stories? Well, I’m pretty sure I’ll keep falling (also because I still only wear flip-flops), but also because that is my nature. But each time I’ll pick myself up, brush myself off, put my headphones back on and continue on my way, that’s all I really can do. Hopefully we can all find ways to go through this process with a little more grace, balance and dexterity.
