It's school - aren't you so super excited?!

I've come to the conclusion, after much fidgeting around and denying of the issue, that one of my extracurriculurs has to go. I have yet to decide which one. More on this later.

I've also decided that I like Professor Finch a lot. A lot a lot. He's hilarious, even though he sounds like he's an extremely demanding teacher. I think I'm going to have a lot of those this semester. Dr. Downing, who reportedly gives people D's on their first papers, Professor Baker who won't put up with any crap, Professor Finch who demands the best and more, Professor Forsythe who expects all our time to be devoted to weaving, oh, and wait, I haven't even met one of my professors yet.

I just keep thinking of what Mom always says: sometimes it's the really hard, demanding, difficult professors that make you. And by "make you," I seem to mean that they're the ones who draw out of you more than you thought you had. More talent, more hard work, more skill. So, here's to hoping that I have some talent, some skill, and some work ethic to be drawn out by these hard, demanding professors. And here's to hoping that some of them are not as hard as they seem.

At least I'm not taking three studios like Kelsey and Stef.

Perfection Is Not As Good As Grace

Something to keep in mind, I guess, as a whole new year of school starts.

Weaving today, and Philosophy and Theology. Weaving I think will be hard. It is yet to be seen if it will also be enjoyable. Only about half the people in it are art majors, which is going to make things very interesting. It will be, without a doubt, time consuming.

Theology will also be difficult I think, in that it will require a lot of prep work for every class period. But I think I like the prof, so that's good. Not someone I would connect with as an individual, but definitely someone I think I can look up to as a professor.

Philosophy.... is philosophy. He's done a good job so far breaking down the intro to philosophy to our level. Philosophy is one of those classes, though, that either brings out the idiocy in people or their innate intelligence. And mostly it's idiocy. There's one girl in my class who's already irritating - used to getting her way and being coddled, I would say. She "answered" a whole bunch of questions with a bunch of vocabulary that she obviously had no idea how to properly apply or understand. Then she tried to wiggle out of his follow-up questions by saying, "I'm not good at expounding." I mean, sheesh. In good news, though, there's obviously at least a handful of people who've given a lot of thought to philosophical questions already, or at least can speak articulately and think on their feet.

The internet in my room is still broken. So, if you send me e-mail, I'll try to reply promptly, but I won't promise anything.

I'm trying not to sign up for anything else until I see how the first week of classes goes. I did sign up for layout on the newspaper, and to write for the magazine section of it. That, plus bible study, literary group, honors congress, and work may be all I can handle. I also really want to work on the layout for the yearbook this year too though. And I know the layout editor - so I bet I could get on the staff. Eh, we'll see. Eighteen credits may keep my hands full. = D

On to dinner, homework, then hopefully a little relaxing time before actual work.
Mackenzie

Whew!

I'm here. Books acquired, groceries gotten, car arrived in one piece (although the right headlight is a different headlight than we started out with), moved in, roommate's here, drinking chai tea, deep breath, everything will be all right.

This is my thought process. My thoughts careen around corners blindly, and refuse to stop at traffic lights or road signs. What I say is never what I thought I was going to say. Too much happens, and I go through too many emotions in quick succession to really grasp or understand them. At the end of the day I have a jumbled mass of tag ends of thoughts, driblets of meaning, and a raging frustration that the internet isn't working - which I suppose is why I lie awake at night. My brain is simply trying to buy itself more time to think things through and figure things out.

I find it much harder to blog when I can't simply pick up Persephone, pop open her lid, and let it all pour out. I forget what I wanted to say, or change it, or decide there's simply too much, so I don't say anything at all.

Which I think is how this post is going to be. You'll have to guess at the particulars. What did she eat for breakfast this morning? What are her books? Are any of her friends in her classes this semester? No one will know. Except those of you I talk to in real life. In which case you'll hear everything, probably three times over. I never realized, until I came away to college, how much I depend on debriefing with my family to process the happenings of the day and validate my existence. Which is, I guess, why I still call home practically every day.

Hall meeting soon - after which I will get my belongings out of storage, and possibly write something before I go to bed. Or watch HitchHiker's Guide to the Galaxy, which they're showing on Larsen lawn tonight. If I can get someone to go with me.

Loves to all,
Kenzie

Or not....

So we're not leaving tomorrow. There's a rather long story behind that decision, mostly involving a busted car. Short version: we're leaving on Saturday instead, and will get there sometime in the evening, hopefully not too late to unpack all my crap from the car (no guarantee it will be my car unfortunately) and get partway moved in. Then to the airport as planned on Sunday, finish unpacking, unpack more on Monday, acquire books and supplies, and try to sleep before classes start on Tuesday.

Sigh. Life is never easy. Everything, though, happens for a reason, or so I prefer to believe.... So, till Saturday, at whatever time, my dear friends, au revoir.

AAAH!!!

Today I woke up to the blinding realization that tomorrow, I'm leaving for college. Heh. Scary thought, seeing as I'm only half packed, still need to get my car fixed (twice) and finish the chair project.

So really, I guess I don't have a lot of time to waste blogging, much as I enjoy that particular pursuit. See all you college peoples in a couple days. Here's to summer, rapidly slipping from my grip.

I felt like a grown-up

I watched five kids today, all by myself, including a five year old and a one and a half year old. And I made lunch and put dinner in the crockpot while watching them. To be fair though, the older ones need no watching at all - just a little refereeing every now and then.

I've not been very productive today. I've done a lot of stuff, but there's nothing to show any progress, which is always depressing.

I've decided that I'm neither a morning person nor a night person. I'm certainly not an afternoon person (three o'clock sleepies y'know). I'm a whatever-time-fits-my-schedule-so-I-can-get-at-least-eight-hours-of-sleep person.

I swear, yesterday Paxtin said something that sounded exactly like, "What do you mean we don't have anymore M&Ms?" The ironic thing was, he actually was eating M&Ms at the time, and we really did run out, and I told him, "We don't have any more." To which he replied, "What do you mean we don't have any M&Ms?" Genius baby, I tell you.

"It's funny and sad and true," she said.

But she didn't give me a critique, which makes me wonder a bit. It makes me nervous when people have no criticism, although also sort of good. It was, however, the best sort of feedback I've had in a long time.

Packing is.... progressing I guess. Sort of. More or less. There's a bit less clutter in my room and a few more boxes in the dining room awaiting packing. Still have to vaccuum out the car, get the last of the supplies I need, like detergent and cold medicine and chai tea, and tear myself away from the unimaginable comfort of my own room in my own house with my own kitchen and bathroom. Sigh. The hardships we endure to get an education.

I'm not sure what caused me to start a painting in the middle of this madness. I keep thinking, ooh, it needs some of that, and then I dig through boxes again to get out the art supplies I packed away. It's kind of a one step forward two steps backward process. It's helping me keep my sanity though, and with all of this unbalance going on around me, I feel like that's kind of vital. Not only to my peace of mind, but to the continued peaceful existence of my family. I'm a serious falling-apart mess during moving, and I keep repeating "I hate moving" about every fifteen seconds, and I'm just not any fun to be around. Who wants that from a daughter/sister who's going to be gone soon? We all want to be happy together, because it's our last week.

In this way I justify my unpacking of art supplies. Take it or leave it.

Toodle-pip.