I'll take it as a good sign

Three weeks of classes left and one week of exams until summer. I take my last final on Wednesday June 10 but I'm planning to stay with everyone on my floor until Friday.

I'm having mixed emotions about it all. On the one hand, I'm incredibly excited to hang out with my friends in Cincinnati but, on the other hand, I'm really going to miss all of my friends in Columbus (and from all over).

I just have to remind myself that this is not a bad thing; it only means that I'm really happy with where I am. I'll take it as a good sign. Plus, who in their right mind would possibly want to delay summertime?!

T.G.I.F. (sort of)

It's an incredibly bittersweet Friday. On the one hand, I'm so so so excited for my birthday party tonight, especially because Paige and Melissa are coming! And all of my friends will be under one roof (shout out to Katydid in Chicago). I'm done with my school week from hell--and I think I did well. Plus, I have a new dress and $200+ of booze.

On the other hand, however, my dad gave me really terrible news this morning. My next door neighbor at home, Larry, had his second serious stroke. They don't think he's going to make it this time. He's only five years older than my dad.

I asked my dad whether we should visit him in the hospital and he said it's likely Larry is on life support. God. I can't stop thinking about his wife, Jody, their five children and their eleven grandchildren who we spent Thanksgiving Eve with this year. I'm going to try not to worry about the family until I get back to Cincinnati tomorrow. I haven't lost faith yet.

Everyone have a good weekend and have fun! It's May! It's the best month out of the year, don't ya know?

Violinist in the Metro

I came across this story here. I think it's so poignant but, also, very sad. Keep reading.

A man sat at a metro station in Washington DC and started to play the violin; it was a cold January morning.

He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that thousands of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.

Three minutes went by and a middle aged man noticed there was musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried up to meet his schedule.

A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the till and without stopping continued to walk.

A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to him, but the man looked at his watch and started to walk again. Clearly he was late for work.

The one who paid the most attention was a 3 year old boy. His mother tagged him along, hurried but the kid stopped to look at the violinist. Finally the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.

In the 45 minutes the musician played, only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk their normal pace.
He collected $32.
When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it.
No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the best musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written with a violin worth 3.5 million dollars.

Two days before his playing in the subway, Joshua Bell sold out at a theater in Boston and the seats average $100.

Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of an social experiment about perception, taste and priorities of people. The outlines were: in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour: Do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize the talent in an unexpected context?

One of the possible conclusions from this experience could be:

If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing the best music ever written, how many other things are we missing?

All they want is for me to read them

On my bedside table, there is a mountain of books that want desperately to be read (or reread).

The stack has been growing gradually over the past few months because I've been too stubborn to admit that I don't have enough time or energy to read. And I fear I'll forget about them if I shelf them out of my sight. Now they've become a permanent fixture on my desk -- my alarm clock propped atop them...

Persepolis... The Great Gatsby... The Executioner's Song... East of Eden... The Post-Birthday World... The Brain that Changes Itself... Generation Kill... Case Histories...

Every morning when I hit the snooze button...they look at me longingly. It's so sad.

The week has hardly even started...

And it already sucks.

The Narcoleptic Dog

Happy World Diabetes Day!

The focus of this post, however, is not diabetes. It's narcolepsy - because that's a lot funnier.

Meet the narcoleptic dog:



You're going to laugh really hard...which will be followed by a great deal of guilt.

Love letters are not dead

Writing letters has it's virtues - it allows you to be far more eloquent and heartfelt (which is nice in an age where the term "love letter" is almost dead). Plus, I'm much better at articulating my feelings through writing than I am through speaking - in a letter, I don't feel as vulnerable to say outright, "I'm so in love with you."

However, when you're accustomed to a fast-paced world in which Facebook satisfies your every whim to communicate instantly with friends far and wide, snail mail is incredibly frustrating.

Which is why it felt so good to speak to Adam on the phone today! Phone calls from him are quite sporadic but I can usually count on receiving one once a week. They're very short - about a five minute maximum - but today we got the chance to speak for over 13 minutes. Unfortunately, the time always seems to slips right through my fingers. But I should be receiving another letter in my mailbox tomorrow!