New Semester

I'm glad I don't drink coffee, because it's alarming how many college students are addicted to coffee. So many of my friends (on and off the newspaper) consume coffee like water. They always look at me like I'm crazy when they hear I don't depend on coffee. Some joke that I am a walking contradiction (you're a journalist but you don't drink coffee?!)

I'll just stick with my water and Chai tea - thanks.

Oh, the new semester has started. I already have a shitload of work to do. Add that to my pile of newspaper duties, and I think we might be on the way to a stressed out Loan. I just need to get back into the swing of things; the winter break was too kind to me!

Classes are interesting, but I know I'll have to work hard it all of them (as opposed to last semester when I had the chance to skive once or twice).

My classes are:

• Honors Class on the country Turkey: The first day of class, we learned how to write our names in Turkish. For our homework we had to read about the Young Turks Revolution and National Struggle. 
• Memoir Writing class: First thing about memoirs: mistakes are great things to write about as memoirists.
• English class on epics: Reading Beowulf, which I honestly never read before. I really like it so far.
• Philosophy class on Human Rights: Going way over my head right now...I'm reading Filmer and Hobbes, and their language is a bit difficult to read...
• English class on Women Writers of the 19th century: The professor is really passionate about this topic, so I think I will enjoy it a lot.

As for my newspaper things, a local cupcake place has just changed its name, and I'm going to interview the owner soon (and get some free cupcakes hah!) I can't wait for that! I'm obsessed with cupcakes. So delicious. I also have two articles to write this weekend. Let's see if I can do that!

One thing I missed about Fairfield was being around my friends. We settled back in to our regular routines. We always make time to have lunch and dinner together. On Thursdays, we go to Late Night at the Stag, and buy cheap cheese quesadillas and pizza. I'm glad that we're able to be comfortable around each other, and help one another when problems come up. One of my close friends' mom just found out she had breast cancer, and in order to stop the cancer, she had to remove both of her breasts. My friend was stressed in the beginning, but she's getting better. She knows that she has us to help her through everything.

I'm hoping to get more involved on campus. The newspaper is a big responsibility, and I love it, but I feel like I still don't do much. I might want to try and join the peer tutorial program to help out with other students' homework.

As for the application for study abroad, I'm working on it! It's progressing at a slow rate, but it's going, and I know I'll be able to submit it on time. I am also applying to internships, and I'm meeting with an internship program director soon. He's going to go over my resume and cover letters. Excited!

Overall, the semester is starting out okay. I'm excited to see where it will lead me :)

Mamihlapinatapai

 Mamihlapinatapai.

Guinness Book of World Records says this is the most succinct word in the world. The term comes from the Yaghan language, a nearly extinct means of spoken communication in Tierra del Fuego. The Yaghan language is what linguists refer to as a language isolate, meaning it did not arise from another language around its geography.

Mamihlapinatapai means: a look shared by two people with each wishing that the other will initiate something that both desire but which neither one wants to start). I can't believe I used to believe 'defenestrate' was the coolest word ever! Mamihlapinatapai takes the spot now. 

I have to learn how to pronounce it now...:/

A couple of months ago I attempted to write a story based on the word. I made it into a comedy...sort of? Eh, I'm not sure if I successfully did it--I think I'm funny, but I'm really not....sad, I know.

Let's hear what other people think.

 Mamihlapinatapai

I’m in hell. I just know it.

Dinner at Kate’s house is always a big affair, with a five course meal, incessant and perfunctory questions about our married life (but nothing about the bedroom scene,) and the constant silent threat of death coming from Mr. Kelly.

Geez, Kate’s dad is sending me a glare again. Way to make me feel more comfortable, Mr. Kelly. I’ve been married to Kate for three years now, and I still want to piss in my pants every time he looks at me. I can’t even call him ‘Jason.’

Wait, Kate just smiled at me. That’s the signal, right?

Why does she have to be so gorgeous and sweet and funny and—doesn’t she know that this will be the last time she’ll get to smile at me? I mean, after her parents—no, correction, Mr. Kelly—finds out about what I’ve done to their daughter—regardless, of how totally mind-blowing it’s been—

No!

Sam Johnson, you’re about to die. Don’t think about amazing sex.

As Kate slips her hand into mine, I feel that bump that she has on her third finger from too many years of holding a pencil or pen the wrong way. It comforts me; she’s in the same dilemma as I am. So I turn my head to look at her again. She raises an eyebrow and then slightly jerks her head to her parents’ direction.

They’re oblivious right now, because Kate’s sister’s boyfriend is talking, and everyone knows how super duper awesome Jake Rivera is.

That prick. He’s an asshole; even Kate thinks so. He’s a fucking computer programmer so he doesn’t know shit about Foucault. I’m the English professor. Ph.D. here. He thinks he knows more about Foucault than me? Idiot. Just because he makes more money than me, doesn’t mean he’s awesomer.

Wait, that’s not even a word.

But regardless, I am—

Kate squeezes my hand. No, more like tugs at it. Her eyes get narrow—the same way they always do when I accidentally shrink her clothes while on laundry duty. It’s the ‘are you going to fess up or will I have to twist your dick?’ look that I’m oh-so-fond of.

What, Kate?

No, why do I have to start?

Don’t give me that look, Kate. You know how I can’t--

OW!

Why do pregnant women have abominably strong legs?

I take a small breath and clear my throat.

Even though this is the one moment where I actually don’t want people to pay attention to me, everyone at the table stops what they’re doing. They turn to look expectedly at me. Even Jake Rivera stopped talking, and that’s saying something.

“Daaaaad, mahmmmm,” Kate begins eagerly, elongating her vowels like she does when she has something controversial—or to her, exciting—to say. She gives me another smile, squeezing my hand.

Here goes nothing.

“Everyone,” I begin, “Kate and I are…”

Rest in peace, Sam Johnson.

“…going to have a baby.”

dear irene killed my internet.

My activities in a day without internet, sadly, consisted of:

-packing my life away in boxes-literally-as I'm going back to college in two days [update--no, I'm not. Because of dear Irene, I'll be moving in next week).

-texting weghewuojgkkwepgnwoebgw to my friend, who, in absolute pity, texted me back.

-skimming through all of the books stored in my drawer, despite the fact that I've already read all of them.

-reflexively pressing on the internet button numerous times only to realize that nothing would come up.

-going through my old elementary schoolwork to discover that English, ironically, was my worst and least favorite subject. And my writing was horrible. Teacher's comments said: "You never answered the question" and "Awkward" many times. If only she can see me now as the amazing writer that I...oh wait.

-playing Caesar IV on my PC. That was only because I couldn't find my Sims. Yeah, I know, not quite an improvement.

-reading William Shrunk Jr. and E.B. White's "The Elements of Style." A thrilling read I assure you. That part about dangling modifiers nearly made me orgasm.

-reflexively pressing on the internet button numerous times...shit.

-blowing into a flute that I randomly found under The Cave--a name that I gave to the space under my bed. In retrospect, I shouldn't have put my mouth on it since a) I bought it in Vietnam, a foreign country whose sanitation is something that should be pondered and b) its age is the same age as my youngest niece. The only difference between to the two is that my niece doesn't have mold. I think.

-putting my fingers on the keys of a piano that I haven't touched for two years. I sincerely hope my family liked my Chopin-inspired rendition of Mary Had a Little Lamb.

-reflexively pressing on the internet...nope.

-Dancing absurdly to "Bulls on Parade" by Rage Against the Machine. And for that type of music, my dance consisted mostly of headache-inducing head bangs and contorted movements that, till this moment, I regret making.

-awkwardly sitting at the kitchen table with my family at 8 p.m. My mom and dad were lost without the ability to watch Fox News.

-reflexively pressing on the...damn.

I think...

...I need to find more things to do.