Bethalou

So, I graduate in a week. If I could do undergrad over again, I think I would have done it the same way, minus only a few classes (chemistry, bio, laaaaaaaaaw). I would have taken voice lessons the whole way through. I think I would have picked the same school. Academically and personally, I’ve enjoyed it here. If Concordia could be relocated out of Moorhead, I’d go for that, but overall my four years here have served their purpose.

I still don’t know where I’ll be next fall. I do know that I’ll be somewhere, St. Cloud or Duluth, but am waiting for Duluth to notify me of their acceptance -or rejection, but let’s think positively here- of my application for a graduate assistantship. If I do wind up at SCSU, and you’re taking Intro to Composition next fall, sign up for my class!! That sounds so weird. Babies and gentleman, boys and squirrels, I’m gonna be a professor.

In an effort to be more efficient, intelligent speakers, Meredith and I have been eliminating fillers from our speech. My pet filler has recently been the annoying “I feel like…”, which is even worse than “I think.” So, if you hear me using fillers in conversation, I don’t know, tell me to like, knock it off, or something.

Today I’m supposed to be writing a paper about Robert Frost. This is what I love about English classes: the vaguest assignment, a page limit, and the freedom to learn about whatever you want. This works particularly well for a Philosophy major who wants to do philosophy in literature. So, I’m writing the paper about how Frost refuses to ascribe to any particular political, religious, or moral ideology, but also hesitates to be relativistic. Hey! THESIS statement!! There it is! It just popped out! Woo.

It snowed. 15 inches, Mere says the internet says. April 26. I was sad. I called my mom yesterday and she talked me down off the edge. It’s weather.

I’m hongry.

For those who don’t know (and why don’t you?), my family has suffered under the tyranny of…a troll, for years. A young mutant without sense or soul squatted upon the home my parents built, literally and metaphorically, and shat upon it. This shitting was fairly drawn out, possibly one of the longer personal shittings (those shat by individuals upon other individuals, as opposed to systemic shittings, which involve entire groups of oppressive shitters) I’ve seen in my brief life.

Friends! I’m here to announce that the shitting has ceased! The bonds have been released and we shall stink no more!

Halleluia, halleluia, forever and ever, amen.

MAY I, MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE.

26 DAYS TILL GRADUATION

18 DAYS OF CLASS LEFT

THANK YOU.

I’m just so impressed. Some people are just really great.

I’m speaking of course, of Hillary Clinton and, to some degree, Barrack Obama. I went to see them speak last night in Grand Forks for the North Dakota Convention, and man are my wings tired.    yes?

We left, skipping myth (I’m so sorry Dr. Schmoll!) in the early afternoon, waited in line, found out that political conventions are like fairs minus weirdos plus a gavel minus cotton candy plus Bovarian almonds (”they taste as good as they smell!). There was much sitting. Initially, we had pretty crappy seats. Obama spoke movingly about the need for change and optimism and how Americans need to be Americans again. It was very moving emotionally, but not intellectually. He said some very nice things though.

HILLARY, on the other hand, knocked my socks clean off! Very specific, very ballsy, very “here’s a problem, here’s my plan, and here’s how we’ll implement the plan, here’s how things will be better, next issue, here’s the problem, here’s the plan…” Plus, Hil-top’s got a sense of humor! I don’t mean just little jokes in the introduction to her speech, but she laughed at a funny sign that someone had that came up on the Gigantoscreen. Allllso, she stayed and talked with people for forEVER afterward!  I hope hope hope she’s President.

OOOOOOooon a completely separate note: I’m okay.  I’ve retained my sense of humor, and also I’ve been practicing opening my knife with only my thumb. I’m okay…Mom, Dad.

I like this quote and I feel like it’s maybe applicable to the last week: “I can’t say that I’ve ever been lost. I was bewildered once for three days.” -Mark Twain

I’m happy to say I’m no longer bewildered. I’m bouncing back like Flarp! Noise Putty.