earning finals week

Maybe I've gone completely nuts. Utterly crazy.

I've done some crazy things during finals week (well, let's be honest here - I've done crazy things during every finals week), but this...this is the cherry. This completely takes 1st place on my list of absurd and completely insane acts during the last week before every break.

I must, however, let you in on the fact that although I do crazy things and drive to crazy places all during the school year, finals week is king. Finals week, ever since I've come to Behrend, holds tradition and is indeed rooted in ventures that serve as nothing but pure entertainment.

I'm studious all through the year, let's remember this, shall we? I make the grades. I earn my finals week fiascos.

We're headed to Ontario for king week this semester, and so reign the craziness will, yes?

Conversations on Continental.

People don't like to toy when they are sitting, claustrophobic, on a puddle-jumper. But boredom is not the answer. So I started up some conversation with the boy next to me who was so close we were touching elbows the entire way to Cleveland.

"Where you headed?"

I asked this and noticed for the first time what the kid looked like. He had those sweeping bangs so that in order to see with both eyes, he had to flick his head every 6.8 seconds.

"To see my dad in South Carolina. You?"

"To see my dad in Chicago."

He smirked. I smirked. Maybe we had something in common.

The boy on my left side had stashed under his seat a really sweet rasta bag. I imagined that maybe I wasn't going to the Cleveland airport, but rather to Jamaica, or the Bahamas, or what the hell, somewhere in Africa.

"Was I snoring?" He asked me as the plane took it's rough and tumble landing.

"What?" I asked.

"Snoring? Was I snoring?"

What a way to meet someone, I thought. "Uh. I don't think so."

On my way off the plane, I told him nonchalantly that I liked his bag. This was probably a mistake.

He caught up with me as soon as I stepped off. "A friend of mine gave it to me."

"Oh?"

"So, where you going?"

"Chicago," I told him.

"Chicago. I'll be going to school there in the fall. Ever heard of Aurora?"

"Nope. But that's cool. I'll be applying to Northwestern for grad school."

After that our conversation lulled. Maybe he realized I'm not as young as I look. I was thankful for the break anyhow. I mumbled my farewells and turned into the nearest ladies' room.

* * *

On my way back from Chicago, my flight to Erie was delayed two hours and I sat "reading" Sarte and Hunter S. Thompson, once again, in the Cleveland airport. I watched as dazed flyers moved about either zombie-like or anxiously. I took a bite of my sandwich (Subway!) and pretended to not people watch. Of course, that's all anyone ever does in an airport - they pretend to read trashy novels or doze off to ipods, but let's be honest - everyone watches everyone.

I watched a girl with red hair walk back and forth on a cell phone several times, glancing up at our "delayed" status and plopping herself hopelessly next to me.

"Erie has the most stupid airport system." (This is honestly the most intelligent thing I could think to muster up, I was so exhausted)

She smiled at me with a mouthful of braces. "I know. I go to college in Meadville and almost every flight through Erie is delayed. I keep calling my friend who is supposed to pick me up and updating her on our new delayed status."

Her name is Andie (Andy?) and she apparently is from Chicago, and is a Sophomore English major at whatever school is near Meadville. We chatted about summer jobs and spring break as if we were friends bantering back and forth.

That's the cool thing about airports - you are allowed to act like best friends or spout out whatever sorry excuse for coherent sentences you may wish because you will never see the person again. I attribute this theory as to the reason why there are so many plane hook-ups. What are the odds you'll even receive a last name or number? Exactly.

I left, I returned, and I feel I have earned the title of "airplane/port conversationalist". Now everyday is another matter, but who needs small talk in everyday life? It's who you converse with along the way, coming, going, what have you, that leaves you the most surprised, the most wary, befuddled, exhilarated indeed.

It's Official.

We finally have a day that constitutes official skirt weather! This is so exciting.

..

Who knew I could be this much of a girly-girl? Wow.

bam.

I have fifteen minutes to crank out something meaningful; makeshift Dobs beckons as I type. I've been trying as of late to get all of my ducks in a row.

I have emailed and emailed and emailed Karrah from Cedar Point about these nuisance part-time after-summer shifts I said yes to during the phone interview. Instead of working 10 weekends after school starts, I've talked my way down to 5.

I've filled out all of the necessary paperwork and chatted with all of the necessary people in order to apply for my psych minor, which is now showing up on my degree audit.

I have set up psych studies, and am weaseling my way into the realm of extra credit for many of my classes just because.

I spoke in class today.

Let's see. I conquered a test yesterday, I'm going to suffer through another one tomorrow, along with handing out my next to last fiction piece for workshop - which is interesting, to say the least.

I leave on a (jet) plane on Friday at 1:30pm and nothing seems more magnificent than that right now.

Well, pasta station is calling me from down the hill. Has it been fifteen minutes?

Forward Sailing

The weekend is finally here. It seems to have taken its good 'ole time this week. Goodness!

It's definitely a coffeeshop weekend. I can feel it. The yummy aromas, the mellow atmosphere... like I've said before, I just can't get enough of it.

Some things I'm looking forward to this weekend (and upcoming week):

• Movies. Lots of them.
• Everwood.
• Time to clear my head and write my workshop piece.
• I don't want to say this because it's 86% lie, but working out. (kind of)
• Chicago in one week.
• Seeing my dad for the first time since HS graduation.
• Being an Ingrid junkie for the 3rd time in about five months.
• Flying. I heart planes.
• Sending my work out to Lit. Journals. Kickin' some (ass). Pardon my lingo.
• Reading one of my guilty-pleasure authors. ;)

Gros bisous et beaucoup d'amour

{lines 31-36 of Komunyakaa's "My Father's Love Letters"}

This man,
Who stole roses & hyacinth
For his yard, would stand there
With eyes closed & fists balled,
Laboring over a simple word, almost
Redeemed by what he tried to say.

random;

1. Priorities need set. Immediately.

2. Who am I kidding?

3. Here's an equation for you:

Heart (which is) > Mind {does not overpower anything} + no sleep = irrationality and euphoria.

4. There is no four. I'm not even sure what this list is compiled of.

5. I schedule tomorrow!