And so it begins.
Twenty-four hour quiet hours officially go into effect tomorrow at 11. Finals, and the end of semester 1 are nearly upon us.
...
WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO SEMESTER 1?!
But it's ok, because I don't have to take finals :)
But my freshman year is half over...that's insanity. Did I blink? Or accidentally sleep through a few months? I feel like it's all gone so quickly, yet I have been here forever. But not really changed, or accomplished anything.
Well, nothing much to say. I have papers to write, and stuff to pack. See you all on Saturday!
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Friday, November 20, 2009
Rest in Peace
I found out this morning that my high school friend Brendan Irving committed suicide last night. Brendan was in my theatre troupe, and he was one of my friends. We were not super close, but he was one of those constant presences. He was a part of 2774. Member for life. And after?
Brendan was always making people smile. He never had any trouble making anything funny. So many memories. All good ones. Brendan was kind, a good actor, and a good person.
So Brendan my love, know that you are greatly missed and will continue to be missed for a long time. And rest in peace sweetheart.
Brendan was always making people smile. He never had any trouble making anything funny. So many memories. All good ones. Brendan was kind, a good actor, and a good person.
So Brendan my love, know that you are greatly missed and will continue to be missed for a long time. And rest in peace sweetheart.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Dorm Cooked Meal
So this is a long overdue post. The actual meal took place some time in early October. But at the time I was too focused on what ruined the night for me to write about it for the humorous event it actually was. So, here's to catching up.
The idea was put forward by a guy on Renfield 1 that we, as a hall, should treat each other to a home-cooked meal. We would all chip in monetarily and help out with the cooking and cleaning on a volunteer basis.
The menu?
Chicken Parmesan, salad, rolls, and a desert called Death by Chocolate.
The venue?
Renfield 2 is equipped with a kitchen facility. That they apparently never use. When we invaded with our mass of people and food related products, they just watched us in shock.
Adventures:
1. We had only one pot. We needed to boil water to cook an alarming number of noodles. Luckily (ish) the pot was large enough to boil a small child. Unluckily, we had to fill it nearly to the top to accommodate enough water to cook said pasta. As anyone who has ever cooked knows, that amount of water (a small lake's worth I'd say) takes eons to boil. And a watched pot never boils. Despite the fact that the four of us in the kitchen each took several turns willing the water to boil with our minds, we still ended up having to serve the pasta as a second course. When the bubbles finally appeared, the kitchen broke out in euphoria.
2. No potholders. We had thought in advance to get aluminum pans on which to bake the chicken, but upon the dinging of the timer, it was discovered that we had no means by which to remove said pans from the oven. (Oh, and there was no thermometer in the oven. *sticks hand into oven* "Does THAT feel like 350 degrees?" "I don't know!" "What do we do?" "I don't KNOW!" "Just stick it in there!" *snigger* "That's what SHE said!") So, we ran around Renfield 2 asking if anyone had potholders. While some of us ran around, the rest considered other options. "A tshirt?" "Eew! I don't want anyone's dirty shirt on my food!" "Paper towels?" "Maybe...a LOT of them..." "Wouldn't that burn your hands?" Finally, someone had potholders. Chicken parm safe!
3. When you allow a straight teenage male to do the food shopping, your salad ends up being a head of lettuce and a bag of croutons. Trishna and I decided that this would not do. So we ran (in the freezing cold) to Usdan dining hall. Our plan? Each of us would use a meal to buy as many cut up salad vegetable as we could. We got some funny looks from the cashiers (who honestly just gets a to go box full of sliced carrots, peppers, tomatoes, etc?), but we SAVED THE SALAD.
4. Once the noodles had finally cooked, we realized we had no strainer. As I mentioned, it was a LARGE pot, and thus, a LOT of freaking noodles. So...a conundrum. We ended up (this was a three-people mission) using a random lid we found in the kitchen to press down on the noodles while we poured the water off into the sink. Two people holding the pot, one holding the lid, everyone watching for stray noodles. Couldn't lose any! Oh, and because of the enormity of the pot, the noodles were cooked unevenly. We told the diners that if they liked al dente, they should take from the top.
5. We quickly ran out of eating utensils, despite telling everyone to bring their own. It ended up being a big sharing thing, which was nice.
Clean-up went quickly. I mean hey, we only had one pot.
So that was dorm cooked meal. Sadly, the event has not been repeated. It was fun though. In remembering :)
And sorry for the delay in posting about that. But it's here now. Love to all!
The idea was put forward by a guy on Renfield 1 that we, as a hall, should treat each other to a home-cooked meal. We would all chip in monetarily and help out with the cooking and cleaning on a volunteer basis.
The menu?
Chicken Parmesan, salad, rolls, and a desert called Death by Chocolate.
The venue?
Renfield 2 is equipped with a kitchen facility. That they apparently never use. When we invaded with our mass of people and food related products, they just watched us in shock.
Adventures:
1. We had only one pot. We needed to boil water to cook an alarming number of noodles. Luckily (ish) the pot was large enough to boil a small child. Unluckily, we had to fill it nearly to the top to accommodate enough water to cook said pasta. As anyone who has ever cooked knows, that amount of water (a small lake's worth I'd say) takes eons to boil. And a watched pot never boils. Despite the fact that the four of us in the kitchen each took several turns willing the water to boil with our minds, we still ended up having to serve the pasta as a second course. When the bubbles finally appeared, the kitchen broke out in euphoria.
2. No potholders. We had thought in advance to get aluminum pans on which to bake the chicken, but upon the dinging of the timer, it was discovered that we had no means by which to remove said pans from the oven. (Oh, and there was no thermometer in the oven. *sticks hand into oven* "Does THAT feel like 350 degrees?" "I don't know!" "What do we do?" "I don't KNOW!" "Just stick it in there!" *snigger* "That's what SHE said!") So, we ran around Renfield 2 asking if anyone had potholders. While some of us ran around, the rest considered other options. "A tshirt?" "Eew! I don't want anyone's dirty shirt on my food!" "Paper towels?" "Maybe...a LOT of them..." "Wouldn't that burn your hands?" Finally, someone had potholders. Chicken parm safe!
3. When you allow a straight teenage male to do the food shopping, your salad ends up being a head of lettuce and a bag of croutons. Trishna and I decided that this would not do. So we ran (in the freezing cold) to Usdan dining hall. Our plan? Each of us would use a meal to buy as many cut up salad vegetable as we could. We got some funny looks from the cashiers (who honestly just gets a to go box full of sliced carrots, peppers, tomatoes, etc?), but we SAVED THE SALAD.
4. Once the noodles had finally cooked, we realized we had no strainer. As I mentioned, it was a LARGE pot, and thus, a LOT of freaking noodles. So...a conundrum. We ended up (this was a three-people mission) using a random lid we found in the kitchen to press down on the noodles while we poured the water off into the sink. Two people holding the pot, one holding the lid, everyone watching for stray noodles. Couldn't lose any! Oh, and because of the enormity of the pot, the noodles were cooked unevenly. We told the diners that if they liked al dente, they should take from the top.
5. We quickly ran out of eating utensils, despite telling everyone to bring their own. It ended up being a big sharing thing, which was nice.
Clean-up went quickly. I mean hey, we only had one pot.
So that was dorm cooked meal. Sadly, the event has not been repeated. It was fun though. In remembering :)
And sorry for the delay in posting about that. But it's here now. Love to all!
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Random
So Trishna and I were waiting at an exceptionally creepy commuter rail stop on Friday evening and we were sort of making up a horror story and freaking each other out. I'm going to expand on it a bit. Nothing to do with my life, I just figure that while I have you all here (those of you who have not completely given up on my erratic posting schedule) I might as well attempt to show off my writing a bit.
Here goes. PS, I have no idea where this is going, but there is potentially some creeper coming out of the shadows. None of this actually happened. The venue was just shady. It made our imaginations wander.
Ok.
Ever notice how fluorescent lights on concrete somehow just look...eery? She notices. She sits on a bench facing the stairs form which she came. She is alone. No one else is waiting for the train. The creepy quality of the light is made worse by the darkness of the night sky visible around the concrete barriers. The wind blows, and the girls whirls around as she hears a rushing noise and sees something move out of the corner of her eye. She relaxes as she sees it is only a wayward garbage bag, forgotten from the excesses of the day. The openness of this train stop is terrifying. She realizes that she could be surrounded completely and no one would hear her scream. The world is far enough away that any sound would be lost. Her heart beats faster. Her breath sounds loud in her ears. The decrepit tracks squeak with the subtle shifting of the night air. The wind rushes again, and the girl pulls her jacket tighter against the November chill. She glances behind her again, as she has been doing for the past ten minutes. The skin on the back of her neck perpetually prickling; a byproduct of the fear in the air.
When her eyes return to the tracks, she sees something to make her already rapidly beating heart move ever faster. A figure is coming out of the shadows. The blood is pounding in her ears as she watches the figure advance. It passes under a streetllight, and she sees that it is a man. An old man wearing a hooded jacket that darkens his face; revealing only his wide and menacing grin.
***Ok. This is getting too cliched for me. I thought it was going somewhere, but that kind of deadpanned. Oh well.
Here goes. PS, I have no idea where this is going, but there is potentially some creeper coming out of the shadows. None of this actually happened. The venue was just shady. It made our imaginations wander.
Ok.
Ever notice how fluorescent lights on concrete somehow just look...eery? She notices. She sits on a bench facing the stairs form which she came. She is alone. No one else is waiting for the train. The creepy quality of the light is made worse by the darkness of the night sky visible around the concrete barriers. The wind blows, and the girls whirls around as she hears a rushing noise and sees something move out of the corner of her eye. She relaxes as she sees it is only a wayward garbage bag, forgotten from the excesses of the day. The openness of this train stop is terrifying. She realizes that she could be surrounded completely and no one would hear her scream. The world is far enough away that any sound would be lost. Her heart beats faster. Her breath sounds loud in her ears. The decrepit tracks squeak with the subtle shifting of the night air. The wind rushes again, and the girl pulls her jacket tighter against the November chill. She glances behind her again, as she has been doing for the past ten minutes. The skin on the back of her neck perpetually prickling; a byproduct of the fear in the air.
When her eyes return to the tracks, she sees something to make her already rapidly beating heart move ever faster. A figure is coming out of the shadows. The blood is pounding in her ears as she watches the figure advance. It passes under a streetllight, and she sees that it is a man. An old man wearing a hooded jacket that darkens his face; revealing only his wide and menacing grin.
***Ok. This is getting too cliched for me. I thought it was going somewhere, but that kind of deadpanned. Oh well.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Idle Musings
So I haven't been sleeping much. That's just a fact of life right now. Nothing to be done.
In my wakefulness, I have been attempting, of course, to answer the deeper questions of life. Well, my life anyway. The theme for this semester seems to be the ever unreachable "Who am I?"
Am I one who is quiet? Or outgoing? Do I like to party? Or is it more fun to be sober? Are one night stands my thing? Or do I want something more substantial? Should I make the same friends I had in high school? Or am I a different person than I was then? How do I dress? What do I say? How do I spend my free time? Am I good at balancing? Am I bad at letting go of a lost cause? Do I give out second chances too easily? Doesn't everyone deserve another chance? And another and another? Do I deserve a second chance? Should I be more involved with the people on my hall? Do I want to hang around people who are stoned? Do I want to try being stoned? Is that who I am? Must I depend on an external substance to enjoy myself? No. I don't think that's who I am.
I used to be quiet. Couldn't even stand the idea of being at a drunken party, much less high. I dont' regret trying drinking. I dont' beleive in regrets. The only thing I regret I don't think I would actually change if I could. I would let him hurt me all over again just to have the experience. One night stands are not my thing. Two made me feel disgusting, the third broke my heart. No more of that.
(For some of my readers, the things I just shared may shock you. May seem icredibly out of character for me. Well...that's the point I guess. I don't know who my character is anymore. I don't want to be who I always was. I don't dislike who I have been, I just want to try something new. And I'm not sure how. The choices I have made have been different certainly, but have not felt like truly me. I need desperately to know if there is something out there that I just have not found yet that truly defines who I am. That's all.)
So...those are some of my idle musings. Don't think any less of me.
In my wakefulness, I have been attempting, of course, to answer the deeper questions of life. Well, my life anyway. The theme for this semester seems to be the ever unreachable "Who am I?"
Am I one who is quiet? Or outgoing? Do I like to party? Or is it more fun to be sober? Are one night stands my thing? Or do I want something more substantial? Should I make the same friends I had in high school? Or am I a different person than I was then? How do I dress? What do I say? How do I spend my free time? Am I good at balancing? Am I bad at letting go of a lost cause? Do I give out second chances too easily? Doesn't everyone deserve another chance? And another and another? Do I deserve a second chance? Should I be more involved with the people on my hall? Do I want to hang around people who are stoned? Do I want to try being stoned? Is that who I am? Must I depend on an external substance to enjoy myself? No. I don't think that's who I am.
I used to be quiet. Couldn't even stand the idea of being at a drunken party, much less high. I dont' regret trying drinking. I dont' beleive in regrets. The only thing I regret I don't think I would actually change if I could. I would let him hurt me all over again just to have the experience. One night stands are not my thing. Two made me feel disgusting, the third broke my heart. No more of that.
(For some of my readers, the things I just shared may shock you. May seem icredibly out of character for me. Well...that's the point I guess. I don't know who my character is anymore. I don't want to be who I always was. I don't dislike who I have been, I just want to try something new. And I'm not sure how. The choices I have made have been different certainly, but have not felt like truly me. I need desperately to know if there is something out there that I just have not found yet that truly defines who I am. That's all.)
So...those are some of my idle musings. Don't think any less of me.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Eheh..
So posting regularly has clearly not happened. Sorry. Last week sucked hard core. Not going there. It's over.
This week has so far been nice. Monday in gym we did a hard core ab workout while listening to Ben Folds :) Love Ben Folds. He is actually coming to play at Brandeis, but I won't be able to see the concert because that's the only night I will be able to see A Chorus Line. Since I hung lights for Chorus, I figure I should go see it maybe.
Yes, I was so desperate for contact with a theatre that I learned how to hang lights. Let me tell you, fun stuff. For short periods of time. It's cool though. A lot of responsibility. If I had dropped one of those SUPER expensive lights, well, you get the idea. It's pretty straightforward work. I mean, I didn't design the plot so it was basically, "Hillary, put that source 4 HERE." Yeah. Easy easy.
This morning I had The Search for Identities in Modern Drama (my seminar class that read Spring Awakening forever ago). We just finished wiht Death of a Salesman (Streetcar Named Desire before that). As part of our discussion of the play, we had to get up in front of the class and talk for a minute about something we were passionate about. I talked about getting out of WV. I mean, it kind of drives me. Most peopel talked about art or music (one girl talked about Justin Timberlake). Anyway, since there are only like 8 of us and most of us live in Massell Quad, we all walk back together. This kid Mik said he thought it was cool that I had such a drive to get out and that I in fact DID. He is from upstate NY and says the same sort of stuck-ness exists there. We railed on country music for awhile, then we parted ways. Nice conversation. I absolutely love the kids in that class. Everyone is willing to lay themselves bare for our discussions. Awesome.
I got a care package from my friend Rebecca's mom :) That was SO nice of her!! I feel so loved <3 (that's a heart). <(") is a pengiun. Yeah. Fo sho.
Bye!
This week has so far been nice. Monday in gym we did a hard core ab workout while listening to Ben Folds :) Love Ben Folds. He is actually coming to play at Brandeis, but I won't be able to see the concert because that's the only night I will be able to see A Chorus Line. Since I hung lights for Chorus, I figure I should go see it maybe.
Yes, I was so desperate for contact with a theatre that I learned how to hang lights. Let me tell you, fun stuff. For short periods of time. It's cool though. A lot of responsibility. If I had dropped one of those SUPER expensive lights, well, you get the idea. It's pretty straightforward work. I mean, I didn't design the plot so it was basically, "Hillary, put that source 4 HERE." Yeah. Easy easy.
This morning I had The Search for Identities in Modern Drama (my seminar class that read Spring Awakening forever ago). We just finished wiht Death of a Salesman (Streetcar Named Desire before that). As part of our discussion of the play, we had to get up in front of the class and talk for a minute about something we were passionate about. I talked about getting out of WV. I mean, it kind of drives me. Most peopel talked about art or music (one girl talked about Justin Timberlake). Anyway, since there are only like 8 of us and most of us live in Massell Quad, we all walk back together. This kid Mik said he thought it was cool that I had such a drive to get out and that I in fact DID. He is from upstate NY and says the same sort of stuck-ness exists there. We railed on country music for awhile, then we parted ways. Nice conversation. I absolutely love the kids in that class. Everyone is willing to lay themselves bare for our discussions. Awesome.
I got a care package from my friend Rebecca's mom :) That was SO nice of her!! I feel so loved <3 (that's a heart). <(") is a pengiun. Yeah. Fo sho.
Bye!
Monday, October 19, 2009
In other news, I was a Cat in a previous Life
True story. I just sat in our lounge in the window seat. It's wooden and pretty uncomfortable, but when I sit there I get all of the sun and none of the cold. It's one of my favorite places on campus.
Anyway, I have been horribly unfaithful to this blog. Sorry. I will attempt to bring you all up to speed on my life.
I think the first noteworthy thing I can tell you about it the Karuna School discusison I went to. Karuna is a sanskrit word that means compassion. The idea behind the Karuna school is that it would be a peace high school. They would teach students to be better in tune with themselves, their emotions, and the world around them. It has a very Buddhist base, which was one of the things we discussed (whether or not that would put people off the school). I was one of five undergrad students present at the discussion. It was completely voluntary, and it was for my Gordie Fellman class. PS, I think he knows my name now (!). The Karuna people wanted younger students there who remembered high school more clearly so we could talk about what was good and bad about our high school experiences. I talked about G (world's most awesome theatre teacher, for all you noobs out there) and how wonderful my theatre class was. G gave us so much control over our productions. That was one of the things the Karuna people liked;giving students a hand in their educaiton. I feel like the Karuna school discussion was one of the reasons I went to college. Being in a room full of people young and old who are determined to change the status quo. It was really neat.
Moving on...Friday my War and Possibilities of Peace class had an Israeli soldier as a guest speaker. It was one of the most intense discussions I have ever been a part of. The guy, Ben, was a sergeant and he was 29. My only experience wiht anyone in the military is my friend Alex who most of you know is in basic training for the army. So when Ben started talking abuot these young boys who are being asked to go fight and die to protect their homes, I was tearing up. Then Ben opened the class up for questions. EXPLOSION. Well first of all, before any discussions of Israel/Palestine are opened at Brandeis, the moderator has to remind people to stay civil. With so many Jews and Israelis on our campus, people get very heated about this topic. So it was probably a bad idea to have a soldier in a peace class, but the discussion was fascinating. If terrifying. There were at least 4 Israelis in the class and two of them were in tears and between them and Gordie, Ben had it coming from all sides. Gordie jumped down his throat, and the whole class is anti-war. I don't feel like I know enough to state an opinion, so I was just caught in the emotional rollercoaster. Soooooo intense.
The weekend doesn't bear mentioning. It's over.
If anyone needs a good read, try Peace is Every Step by Thich Nhat Hanh. SO GOOD. And it's short. Very Buddhist. Very AWESOME.
Love to all!!!
Anyway, I have been horribly unfaithful to this blog. Sorry. I will attempt to bring you all up to speed on my life.
I think the first noteworthy thing I can tell you about it the Karuna School discusison I went to. Karuna is a sanskrit word that means compassion. The idea behind the Karuna school is that it would be a peace high school. They would teach students to be better in tune with themselves, their emotions, and the world around them. It has a very Buddhist base, which was one of the things we discussed (whether or not that would put people off the school). I was one of five undergrad students present at the discussion. It was completely voluntary, and it was for my Gordie Fellman class. PS, I think he knows my name now (!). The Karuna people wanted younger students there who remembered high school more clearly so we could talk about what was good and bad about our high school experiences. I talked about G (world's most awesome theatre teacher, for all you noobs out there) and how wonderful my theatre class was. G gave us so much control over our productions. That was one of the things the Karuna people liked;giving students a hand in their educaiton. I feel like the Karuna school discussion was one of the reasons I went to college. Being in a room full of people young and old who are determined to change the status quo. It was really neat.
Moving on...Friday my War and Possibilities of Peace class had an Israeli soldier as a guest speaker. It was one of the most intense discussions I have ever been a part of. The guy, Ben, was a sergeant and he was 29. My only experience wiht anyone in the military is my friend Alex who most of you know is in basic training for the army. So when Ben started talking abuot these young boys who are being asked to go fight and die to protect their homes, I was tearing up. Then Ben opened the class up for questions. EXPLOSION. Well first of all, before any discussions of Israel/Palestine are opened at Brandeis, the moderator has to remind people to stay civil. With so many Jews and Israelis on our campus, people get very heated about this topic. So it was probably a bad idea to have a soldier in a peace class, but the discussion was fascinating. If terrifying. There were at least 4 Israelis in the class and two of them were in tears and between them and Gordie, Ben had it coming from all sides. Gordie jumped down his throat, and the whole class is anti-war. I don't feel like I know enough to state an opinion, so I was just caught in the emotional rollercoaster. Soooooo intense.
The weekend doesn't bear mentioning. It's over.
If anyone needs a good read, try Peace is Every Step by Thich Nhat Hanh. SO GOOD. And it's short. Very Buddhist. Very AWESOME.
Love to all!!!
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