Passion and Projects

 I might not remember the first time I officially met Doug- probably at the move-in barbecue at Rutherford 3 years ago, but I do remember the first time he began to actively change my life. It was the end of the fall semester of my 2^nd year and I had gotten to know Doug and Linda throughout the semester at cookie nights and especially Sapelo. At the time I had been tossing around the idea of beginning a future in Higher Education Administration and had asked Doug and Linda for advice. Always ready to go above and beyond, they invited me to brunch on Sunday with Jack to discuss life and the future. The brunch was a huge success, not only helping me understand the field better, but also becoming closer to the Tomas on a different level than I had experienced. Doug was thrilled to chat about one of his greatest passions, and he offered an invaluable window into the world of Higher Ed.

            By the end of brunch, Doug casually offered me the position of Assistant to the Dean at Rutherford for the next school year. How could I say no? And so in that little brunch my entire world was changed. I had no idea that this was the beginning of my path, as it led to multiple other jobs and opportunities as well as my admittance into Graduate School. All I can be is eternally grateful to the man who decided to invest in a restless sophomore girl with big dreams but no real direction.

I will always remember the special times we had together- laughing at cookie night, grabbing lunch just to check in, eating sushi for the first time at his house, emailing updates on my grad school search. Even as he grew ill, Doug found the time and energy to write me (and many others) recommendations and letters of support. My favorite memory with Doug happened during my second and last trip to Sapelo Island. Somehow, it was his idea, I and several of my best friends ended up being driven by him all around the island in the huge truck. We sped along the root riddled trails, laughing uncontrollably as Doug purposefully made us bounce and almost fall out of our seats. We eventually got to a secluded part of the island and walked to a wild, private part of the beach. I remember it so perfectly. That was living. That was Doug.

And the thing is, my story is not unique. There are countless students, both undergrad and graduate, that have had the doors opened to their dreams by Doug. He is and will continue to be my inspiration and model as I go forth into the field that he loved so deeply. It is a bittersweet emotion to continue to immerse myself in his field. I had always imagined sending frequent emails updating him on my life and progress- eager for his cheering and support. But although I will never have that contact with him again, Doug will never leave my side, and I will never lose the confidence and passion that he helped instill in me.

Doug was brilliant, kind, hilarious, and his zeal for life was absolutely contagious. My life was and continues to be profoundly touched by him. I, along with my friends and countless others, will always love and miss him.

Well I had some interesting adventures the past two days that I would just like to share.

So I started my trip about 40 minutes late because taking my bike apart and the simple process of putting things in my car took longer than expected. This made me a little uneasy because I was going to hit not just the beginning of traffic at 4, but also the start of the crazy kind at 5. Off I went to visit my friend, Ali, from my Italy trip. We have only seen each other two times since the trip, so I was very excited about getting to spend the evening with her. All went smoothly until I got into the Duluth area which slowed me down until I hit John’s Creek around 5:30. John’s Creek was miserable. Every light took several rotations, and it was basically gridlocked traffic. To top it off it started to freezing rain. I chided myself for not getting off earlier, but was feeling pretty good. I was only thirty miles away, and, I mean traffic can’t be backed up that badly right? RIGHT? And so it began.

Crazy
Atlanta
Commuters

ON ICE.

My hope for humanity was destroyed. People were absolutely crazy. I have never seen traffic like this. There were several occasions were we just sat at the light because the people who previously had the green light had decided to squeeze through the red, but as the next light was backed up, there was no space for the cars, so they would be stuck in the middle of the intersection. Often the left turners would wedge themselves behind the line of cars that were coming from the opposite direction going right, so the cars going straight would have to cut into the next lane to get around them. Conveniently, the signs were fabulously helpful.

SIGN: Attention! There is a light coming up.

Well thank you sign, I could see that there was a light coming up because it is dark and I’m not an idiot. However, would you mind letting me know what intersection that is? No, well that’s fine because while I would love to turn right, nobody will let me over and seeing that it is raining, there is little visibility from the back windows. It’s cool. I’ll just go straight. Wait no I wont, because while the light is Green, the cars are backed up from the next light up and cannot move.

My favorite intersection was the road that I had been looking for for the past hour and a half. note- i had gone roughly 8 miles. Seeing that I do not know my way around, I was not in the correct lane to turn. No one let me in, so I moved through the intersection, dodging the car that was sticking out in the middle of it, made a turn into a child care center and turned around. There was a car in front of me also trying to make a left turn. The green arrow was given to us. But the cars were locked at the intersection. So the car in front of me decided, welp, this is my shot. And turned left, blocking the half of the intersection. At this point, the people going right (where I was supposed to be) would not let the left turner in. Probably because they werent really moving either. So this car just sat halfway in the intersection, and I just watched it as no one would let it in, and cars had to swerve to get around it. In the rain might I remind. As I waited to make my move, the light had turned red and I was trying to figure out if going at a different angle would best work, I noticed a man get out of his car and irately yell at the drivers window of the car behind him. Fuck this shit, says I, and go straight, turn around once again, call Ali and beg for different directions.

What should have taken maybe 20 or 30 minutes took Over Three Hours. Another personal favorite thing that people did was on the major road that everyone was going straight, cars, well mostly big asshole SUVs, would drive past all the lane of traffic in the empty right turn lane, get to the intersection, make a U turn, and get in the front of traffic. Seriously?

So what had happened was… The roads were all iced over. So this was no normal traffic. I finally got to her neighborhood and almost cried I was so happy. By this time my gas light had turned on so that made me nervous. But as I was turning into it, my car hit a patch of ice and I just slid. It wasn’t that bad and I got control of the car quickly enough, but it was pretty scary. I got to Ali’s at 8:30. I left at 3:30. She told me to park in her driveway which was inclined. So I did. Until my car slid down into the street. Cool. We had to go out again to get food, everything was closed. But we had a great time!

BUT WAIT! THERE’S MORE!

I got ansy in the morning because I had a doctors appointment at 1:45 and if traffic was anything like it was the night before, I would need to leave with plenty of time. So I got up earlier than I was going to and was out the door by 9:30 to get gas and head out. Traffic on 75 and 575. Not fun. 20mph is lightning compared to the night before with 5-10mph. But then I hit 85 and it was smoooooth sailing!

I got about 20 miles outside of Columbus, at about 12:20. I was jamming out to my chorus CD when all of a sudden! Stem started streaming out of my engine. AWESOME. So I pull over and call my dad. A guy was already pulled over (?) and he came over and tried to help. He wasn’t much help, but I appreciated the try. He left and my dad called a tow truck. I turned on my car for a second to check the heat gauge, and red transmission fluid started oozing out. My car was bleeding on the side of the road. It was so sad. I hadn’t noticed what exit I was near so I had to walk down the side of the highway to check the next exit sign. As I was walking a large truck pulled up next to me and asked if I needed help. I explained that I was just waiting for my dad and that it was ok. He was with his 13 year old son and asked if I needed a ride into Columbus. I declined, but it was nice of him. He also told me not to sit in my car while I waited, as it is more dangerous than people think, since we didnt know what was wrong with the car especially, and cars are surprisingly flammable. Nice of him.

I had just gotten back to my car when another car pulled off to the side of the road. This time a woman got out and asked if I needed help. I explained the situation and she told me that she would wait with me until my dad came. I told her that it would be another 30-40 minutes, but she was adamant. She was actually really cool. She is a professor of history at Auburn and was very interesting. She specialized in turn of the century women, so we chatted pretty indepthly about the things that I had learned in my religion class, as well as my gender and work sociology class. It was actually fun. About 20 minutes into waiting a cop pulled over and offered to stay with me while I waited, so she left. It was more fun when she was there. I pulled out a book and read, you know, on the side of a major highway. About 5 minutes later my dad pulled up and we traded cars. I drove into Columbus and got to my appointment ON TIME. The car was towed, and my dad was able to fix it (of course). The two hour trip took four.

In sum,
Things I am THANKFUL for:
-That my car broke down 20 miles away from Columbus
-It was easily fixed and did not cause any commotion when it broke
-IT DID NOT BREAK DOWN THE NIGHT BEFORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
-It did not run out of gas
-People who restored my faith in humanity by consistantly stopping to help me, and even staying to make sure I was ok

but mostly im just thankful to have gotten home safe, sound, and am now OUT OF THE CAR

As I was sitting outside of Rutherford reading, a puppy puppy pranced by, as only puppies can prance. It may seem obvious to point out, but I love puppies. The thing about puppies is, not only do I love them because they are adorable and have big, round puppy tummies, but I also love them because they seem perpetually joyful. It is as if they have tapped into the universe and recognized the simple fact that they are alive, and thankful for being so. Puppies do not ask much out of this life, merely wishing to share their joy of being alive with any who would allow them. Puppies love unconditionally and unbiasedly.The puppy prance, as well as their goofy grin and out lulling tongue is just an expression of this.

This particular puppy was a seeing eye dog, very young. I absolutely love the fact that UGA has such an incredible program for seeing eye dog training. I cannot count how many times I have been walking zombie-like to or from class, blind to the world around me, until I happen to see a seeing eye dog trot by. Young and old, these dogs bring a happiness to all those around them (especially the puppies). Watch people sometime. Zoned out and frowning a student walks down the street when suddenly a big grin appears. I bet he or she just spotted a seeing eye dog. If you happen to be lucky enough to be near a dog for sometime, say waiting for a bus, count how many people give that dog a secret, loving smile. 

I remember being on a crowded bus, shuttling off to some class, grumpy and disinterested in life. I was standing, and something stepped on my feet and just felt weird. Looking down, ready to cast and angry glance at somebody rude, what do I discover? It’s a puppy! Life=Good. Apparently I have a “puppy face.” That grin saved only for the most adorable. And according to Maria, though she has no proof, I get a little violent. So I smack her when a puppy is in view? Doesn’t she want to be alerted the most efficient way that a puppy is near??

All in all, these seeing eye dogs around campus remind us all of our lost loves, the dogs we were forced to leave home. Remember when bumper stickers were all the rage on fb? One of my favorites was, “College is cool and all, but I miss my dog”. These dogs on campus remind us, the lucky owners of dogs, that somewhere a puppy is waiting for us to return, ready to forgive us for being gone so long if only we would scratch their heads, ready to shower us with love.

Well I’ve mulled it over. Perhaps I was getting a little too carried away. I got very excited and went online and found places to buy tiles and other supplies, expensive but not out of the question. I even looked up on the Bulletin if there was any glass working classes that I could contact the professor and ask advice. But I started looking around my room and came to an important conclusion. I don’t really have the space. Where am I going to make these incredible creations? My room, which is about um 15x12 feet? This room is my bedroom, my living room, my office, my kitchen, and the holding area for my bathroom. In short, I don’t really have room to put lots of messy and breakable items in it. I am thrilled about my mosaic idea, but perhaps it would work best if i tucked this little nugget away and saved it for a time when I could better express myself and give it the time, energy, materials, and space it needs. But I am excited about the future! Hmmm Maria can have her dark room in the extra room and I can do mosaics!! and and Mitika can dance in the background!! BRILLIANT!!

However, I have come up with something new. I had sort of come up with a base idea, but then Maria, my lovely friend, gave me my idea evolved. She was thinking of me before bed, (as one should because it gives one such wonderful dreams) and, as friends often know some parts of you better than you know yourself, came up with an idea that got to the heart of my thoughts and feelings. I am going to explore my life and the things that I love. I haven’t hammered out the details yet, but it will encompass a lot, and I am excited to begin. I will start off with one of my favorite quotes by dear old Oscar Wilde, “To define is to limit.” Why yes, Oscar, I couldn’t agree more. My project will take me where the wind blows, wherever my passion is peaked. Hopefully the fluidity of such an undertaking will only turn out for the best.

Well first I’m going to look up Hobby Lobby online. Hmmm tiles tiles tiles.

Oh. Oh no.

I have now ventured into the realm of… CRAFTS. Oh no. Projection of my future: I’m that crazy mom that makes her two teenage sons share a bedroom so she can have her own craft room. The entire room floor to ceiling is covered in macramé, little cutesy hearts, cut out flowers, and everything, everything is pastel and smells not just faintly of glue. My eyes are red from the bad light and squinting over little details of sequins and gems. I get home from work, grab and entire bottle of wine and probably some donuts and never leave my room, my “sanctuary”. Oh god oh god! Crafts! No longer cute and innocent, crafts will destroy your life in obsessions over the tiniest of details. Shit.

Out I pop out of bed (3:30 AM). I had an idea. When I was younger I had this delightful set of mosaic tiles that you put in place on this grid that could be dumped out and started all over again with. I freaking loved this thing. Freshmen year of college. I put magnetic tape on the back of those tiles you get in school and made mosaics out of them on the side of my wall (which was magnetic, cool huh?).

Mosaics.

I love colors. I love mixing colors. I love patterns and designs. Maybe. Maybe mosaics would be good?

GOOGLE MOSAICS AND TIIIIIILES!!!

Ok. Kids stuff kids stuff kids stuff. How to do your own. Hmmm how do I get tiles? www.sicis.com. Holy shit. I am in love. These are the most beautiful glass tiles I have ever seen. Made in Ravenna, Italy. I just. Wait so how do I buy these? What the? This is the most complicated website of all time. Wow talk about artsy. Yes you guys are cool with your photos and moving scrowlies and doodads and wow I LOVE those tiles. WHERE IS BUYING!? Seriously. I don’t care about your exhibits. Surely you want to overprice and package these gems. Fine. Google this shit. AHHHHH!! 64$ PER SQUARE FOOT??  SQUARE FOOT?! Reduced to 25-40$. Mother of- well. Uh. I knew it was going to be expensive.  But they are so pretty! Oh this isn’t loose tile. This is ready to install in your home tile. Oh.

So I looked around some more. Prices got lower. My heart has already been taken, but whatever. Still going to be expensive.

Shoot. We are going to Hobby Lobby.

One of my very best friends, Jacob, and I were having a lovely coffee catch up today. This is one of my favorite things because it does not happen often that we get one on one time together, though I see him almost everyday. We have gotten to the point that we catch up for the first thirty minutes or so and then spend the rest of the time speculating on life, sharing our views on important issues (well important to us), and just in general having a good time. Today I shared with him my quickly intensifying feeling of needing to do something with my summer. It is June 1st. I work approximately 6 hours a week, walk for an hour or so most weekdays, and spend the rest of the time reading, surfing the internet, watching tv shows online, and the evenings just hanging out. This has been the perfect summer. I’m getting ansy. 

Speaking of which, how the hell do you spell “ansy” anyways. Is that a made up word? No spell check “pansy” is not the word I’m looking for, nor is “tansy” which brings up other questions altogether. Oh. It’s “antsy.” Who knew? Yea that makes sense. See, I’m already growing as a person.

Anyways. I have all this time. Time, that elusive thing that no one ever seems to have enough of, something that I certainly bemoan during the school year. But here it is summer. What to do? This is perhaps the last time in my entire life where I will have this problem, and I sort of want it to go out with a bang. I have been mulling this around for a few days now. What to do? I actually do believe that it is imperative that I find out “what to do” because by not knowing the solution I have come to realize that I am slightly passion-less. What do people associate me with? Quirky idiosyncrasies?  I want more than that. I feel that I am a passionate person, but I just seem to be missing my focus. I doubt I am the only one. In fact, I’d be willing to bet that most of the population, or at least us stressed out Americans, have the same problem.  Ugh how privileged to even worry about such a thing! And truly I am grateful, let me just put that out there. So I have the privilege, what do I do with it? It frustrates me because I feel that if I decided on something, I could probably achieve most anything. I am creative enough and dedicated enough to make a valiant effort resulting in something that I, at the very least, will enjoy. But what? Decoupage? Crochet? Croquet? Oil pastels? Basket weaving (I am a good swimmer…)?  I wish they had wood shop! Heck, if you know my dad you know that I have a wood shop in the basement of my house. But that’s in Columbus. Still lamentable that I let that slip out of my reach. I could make our house a chair for next year! That would rock! Both meanings. Alas. No guitar (though I would love to learn), no chorus to join, no dance lessons to continue. When I was younger I had a little kids pottery wheel as well as this cool loom. Yea, I was that kid.

That’s just it. Jacob and I realized that there are not that many creative outlets for individuals. There are the umbrellas of Music, Art, and Writing. Music is pretty hard to do without an instrument, and also hard without a teacher. Art is expensive and hard to get started. Writing. Well I never really consider myself a writer. Jacob is a writer. I chitchat in writing form. Oh I could Hate on things. I could explore Athens and the internet and write up wonderfully witty and naughtily nasty remarks  on, let’s face it, just about anything. But who needs more of those types of blogs?

What I need is a project. Nothing too big and ambitious that I will feel overwhelmed and just quit. But nothing too small that I get bored. I am reminded of a movie I just saw- Julie and Julia. It’s a slightly boring movie about this woman, Julie, who writes a blog about making every single dish in Julia Childs’s famous French Cookbook. More than the movie itself, I really loved the concept. This woman, Julie, happily married and with a job, needed something to be passionate about, needed something to make her feel Individual in the best sense of the word, which, I might add, in the end made her more connected than anyone might imagine. I find myself in similar waters. But I already cook. Albeit not anywhere even close to as well as Julia Childs, but I can definitely whip up something special (Thanks, Mom!).

So I went about finding a project. First I checked the course listings for summer classes. No, I would not enroll officially, but if there was some interesting class, I would definitely be ok with dropping in. Not a single interest sparking one. Really, why do summer classes have to sound so dull? How about local classes? Flagpole! Well there’s Yoga…and Yoga…and Yoga…and tai chi. Also, belly-dancing, which I admit sounds pretty great. Only problem is that I will be out of town a lot in June and it’s expensive. Stupid money! There are one or two art classes, but once again, expensive. Thanks for nothing Flagpole. Google! Google will surely have some advice as, after all, they control half the world, so why not control my summer? Really Google? Telling me that crayons are not just for kids doesn’t help much. My trusty 36 pack is in my desk right now. I know about some crayons. These are just things to keep you occupied for the afternoon. Or thirty minutes, really who comes up with this stuff? While buying a metal detector sounds, um, thrilling, that’s not really what I’m going for. Here are some of my favorites. I couldn’t resist:

• Collage your car into like the coolest most outrageous thing on the road —Like totally wow! Wtf?
• Draw pictures of yourself as a barbarian— Because looting and raping is humorous. Good one!
• Get a plain shirt and decorate with ribbons and rhinestones—aka “bedazzaling” I know another place that’s become popular with rhinestones…
• Get some glitter glue—- that’s it. Just buy it. Oodles and oodles of fun!
• Have a business card made with your name number and a fake vocation: Like astronaut, race car driver, etc. — colleges love this one! Ps- there are no more astronauts. Suck it kids.
• Explore the dark side and make some Vampire Art— coming soon ARHI4870

WAIT actually NO! NO!

THIS is why I can’t do anything productive. The internet is riddled with these types of things. They are just too ridiculous to not tear apart. And believe me, that wasn’t even close to the end. Sorry for making you go through that. The least I could have done was repost a Cracked article.  X that tab out.

What have I accomplished? Well, without the resources a lot of things are out of my grasp right now. But maybe I just haven’t thought about it in the right way. I have decided to start a minor project. I need to pick out my favorite Italy pictures so I can print them. I also want to reread my Italy Journal, which I admittedly have been nervous to reread. I wish I had someone that would just sit and listen to my stories. Other than this, which I have wanted to do for awhile now, I haven’t come up with much. Maybe I’ll bust out my Italian egg tempera paints and create, well, something. Nothing needs embroidering like last summer either. Or does it?! *Looks down at Mitika’s borrowed futon*  Interes- no just kidding.

My creative juices were flowing there for a minute. But now I think I just have creative blue balls.