Film

I decided last minute that I would abandon responsibility and instead accompany Andrew and Tristan up to the Cleveland International Film Festival.  We left at 10 a.m. in the midst of rain and a tornado drill and arrived at the Twin Cinema with a crowd that stressed me out.  But the stress was shortlived as I saw Sparrow, Achilles and the Tortoise, and 8 Independent shorts (the best of which were Pig, Derailed, Retouches, and Out There).  The car ride home was full of stimulating discussion, and I was renewed with vigor for my current film endeavor.

happy to be wrong

With a little help from Russ, I convinced Mom to meet me for lunch, where she showed up with a new coat for me!  The Revolving Doors writing meeting made me fear that they would soon regret inviting me to be a head writer (due to my lack of innovative and creative ideas), which left me feeling all self-deprecating and such (surprise!), so I went to get my hair done to feel better.  The salon closed at 5, so I went back to the room and wasted time before driving to Andrew's for class documentary-watching.  King of Kong was great, but a comment made in teasing upset me more personally than it should and I reacted strongly in anger.  I drove home fuming, only to receive an apology in my inbox, disproving my earlier beliefs about the person's intended effects. 

decision?

I reluctantly drove to Belden Village during the worst time of the year in order to clock in and repair watches for eight hours.  All day I was looking forward to The Justin Project at muggs--which was all I had hoped.  Engaged in conversation that didn't completely (though at some points, inevitably) revolve around school/work, which was a wonderful relief.  At midnight, Erik stopped by--which was the first time I had seen him in at least two months--and we spent time visiting in that superficial way of knowing that there are more serious issues hidden beneath the surface that neither are going to acknowledge. 

the ebb and flow

worked the long shift, where i had shifting emotions about the work i was doing, feeling both satisfied and disgusted.  afterwards i spent time with ben for the first time in months, which was fun, but also reminded me that that chapter of my life is over, and i don't think i'll be reading it again.  went to muggs to homework, but ended up visiting with people who compose my life now, and i was reminded of how much i appreciate them, and more about how much i appreciate the newness that accompanies this strange and transient path of life.

strange assortment

wanted to try a new church this morning, but my roommate bailed and some unsureness on location and starting time made me change my mind.  watched a film, cleaned, did laundry in the afternoon, before going to the mexico mission trip reunion at Tlaquepaque, which was two-hours of loud, obnoxious fun. the evening was devoted to investigating the dense and complicated world of feminist film theory.

fleece signs

competed all day: CA, POI, CA, POI, Prose, Prose, wait, watch, awards, disappointment, excitement, drive home, depression, joy, bonding, laughing, somber, exhaustion.  as i desperately seek God's presence, i realize that this whole spiritual thing is really hard.

tornadoes

up early for breakfast with tom, mallory, and new friend scott, followed by (attempted) registering for classes, discussion on traveling mercies, begging/ranting about closed out classes (for the second year in a row!!), muggswigz for a double-hazelnut-breve, visiting! like! mad! with mallory and professors, class, class, lunch with dad, off in the van for forensics.  mallory's abrupt entrance and abrupt departure left me in emotional turmoil, experiencing all sorts of longing, envy, honor, love, and all sorts of other confusing-type-things.  it's like she's a tornado, coming in as a whirlwind and then leaving the wreckage and pieces behind to be picked up once again.  i hate that we're apart.

when love comes to town

the day was overshadowed with anticipation of the evening events: a possibility to get off work early and see mallory for the first time in three months, the second time in sixth months.  made a reverse surprise by showing up for dinner, followed by a night out at joe's, and a tipsied heart-to-heart that was just as (or perhaps more so) genuine than it would have been sober. 

chiseling away

how on earth can teachers possibly be introducing new projects NOW? at this time in the semester? really?!? i've seriously been wishing that i didn't need to sleep, because it would help me get so much more accomplished. tonight i regained some social life--went to the soap opera and then talked with a friend until past midnight, at which time i returned to my room to start on the large pile of insurmountable tasks to complete for tomorrow...

off campus

worked all day again, but this time managed to read "cultural approach to organizations" during down time, which made me feel as if my time wasn't completely wasted. went home and had a homework party with connie. drank some wine for motivation, which i'm not necessarily sure was the best combination...guess we'll find out after my paper's graded.

i miss my friends

slept in LATE (the fault of mom's sleep-number bed and the black out curtains that make light impenetrable), went to work for the (yet again) hated afternoon shift, tried to invite people for a last-minute get-together that ultimately fell through. those who did show up, though, were those i most wanted to see and time was spent laughing, talking, and loving.

Maybe? It's coming together?

I read something the other day that talked about how our stories aren't neat and tidy, and when we retell them they're not always right. Unless there's some reason to retell our experiences, they slowly fade from our memory.

And what's more, as soon as we *tell* the memory, we not longer have a memory, but a story of a memory, that is only as accurate as our first dramatization.

I'm just worried as I continue this project that I'm not capturing the stories of my life. I'm afraid that I'm telling a list of events, that I'm ultimately going to forget about despite these documented reminders.

I want to find the best way to share my life on a day-by-day basis. What happened today that was mundane and original, or surprising and wonderful? How do these elements combine into a story?

This Monday was filled like any other, classes not overwhelmed with demands, working to find my ground through this impossible point in the semester, playing catch up with other neglected (though equally important) areas of my life before a quick and dirty performance and outline of my speech followed by hours of paper writing.

My comm analysis is in its barest forms, though I felt reassured after I presented it and friends told me I was on the right path towards being a comm professor.

Heaven

Rough transcript of a conversation that happened earlier today, that Ann so nicely requested I post online so it's 'published.'

Mallory: I wish all of our conversations were transcribed so that then we could read them later and use them for forensics pieces.
Alyssa: Well, we'll get to read them all in the book of life.
M: And there's forensics in heaven?
A: Of course. It's heaven.
M: Although, I wouldn't want to go up against Gabriel, the messenger of God.
A: Right. "Oh no! Gabriel's in my next round! And Jesus is judging!!"

[time elapses]

A: Although, Paul's in my round after that, and we know he's not all that hot.
M: Right! I mean, his letters are so big they hardly fit in his book! And Peter's always speaking in tongues.
A: And that only works in program.