Pushkin
I'm tired. I have a million things to do that I got up early on a Saturday morning to take care of and yet I'm sitting at my computer playing on Facebook and LJ again. Shit.
Last week was tough for me. I feel like now that I have given myself the time to think, a million things are hitting me all at once. I'm at a different school. I'm living a different life. I've changed. This semester has flown by me in such a flash that I can't remember where it went. I have 2 weeks of classes left, then 1 final on May 9th, and my first semester of real college will be over. It kind of helps me to know that I'll still come back in the fall as a junior; at least I won't feel quite as old. My schedule for the fall kicks ass; I'll finally be taking Hebrew on top of my required classes and another Russian politics class with Professor Parthe. Never in my life did I think I would want to get a second minor in Russian studies! But come on - how could anyone read Aleksandr Pushkin and not fall in love?
I'm ready to move. I'm ready for summer, but I'm not ready for this school year to be over. It's jury week at Eastman starting Monday, which now means nothing different for my schedule except that I may actually get to see some of my friends from Eastman who I've missed like crazy all semester. I'm hopeful.
Yesterday I went to take the bus back home from the River Campus only to change my mind, put on my rollerblades for the first time in almost 10 years, and take a nice, long rollerblade trip home with Genna. We talked about being apart for the summer, my fears of commitment, friends... lots of things. I love that we can just talk like that. I had such an amazing time skating along the river and downtown to my apartment. It felt great. I went to Chabad last night for Shabbos for the first time in I don't know how long. It was a small crowd, but mostly regulars, and those are my favorite nights. When I got there and saw Devorah Leah and got a chance to give her a hug after setting out the fish, I realized how much I'd missed her. I'd missed Chabad in general and my med school friends who go there who I never see otherwise now and Mendel, too, but it was seeing and getting a hug from her that made my night. I talked to Dave and Shira and listened to Rabbi Asher give his speech while enjoying my favorite Chabad dish (cinnamon-noodle kugel) and remembered how much going there every Friday night used to be such a huge part of my life. I really missed that.
During my time alone, my mind can't sit still. I'm so overwhelmed by everything that has happened over the past 3 months, and it's all coming down on me in one big heap now. I just hope I can put it aside long enough to get my work done. I want to be a good friend, but how I can be there for anyone else when I have no clue what the Hell is going through my head? I feel like I've made a strong connection with a friend from U of R who's going to Spain next year. I'll really miss him. He's made me feel so much better these past 2 weeks.
There's no good way to end this, so I'll inspire myself with the poem that mad me fall in love with Pushkin (translated, but it's still amazing):
To... [1825]
I recollect that wondrous meeting,
That instant I encountered you,
When like an apparition fleeting,
Like beauty's spirit, past you flew.
Long since, when hopeless grief distressed me,
When noise and turmoil vexed, it seemed
Your voice still tenderly caressed me,
Your dear face sought me as I dreamed.
Years passed; their stormy gusts confounded
And swept away old dreams apace.
I had forgotten how you sounded,
Forgot the heaven of your face.
In exiled gloom and isolation
My quiet days meandered on,
The thrill of awe and inspiration,
And life, and tears, and love, were gone.
My soul awoke from inanition,
And I encountered you anew,
And like a fleeting apparation,
Like beauty's spirit, past you flew.
My pulses bound in exultation,
And in my heart once more unfold
The sense of awe and inspiration,
The life, the tears, the love of old.
Last week was tough for me. I feel like now that I have given myself the time to think, a million things are hitting me all at once. I'm at a different school. I'm living a different life. I've changed. This semester has flown by me in such a flash that I can't remember where it went. I have 2 weeks of classes left, then 1 final on May 9th, and my first semester of real college will be over. It kind of helps me to know that I'll still come back in the fall as a junior; at least I won't feel quite as old. My schedule for the fall kicks ass; I'll finally be taking Hebrew on top of my required classes and another Russian politics class with Professor Parthe. Never in my life did I think I would want to get a second minor in Russian studies! But come on - how could anyone read Aleksandr Pushkin and not fall in love?
I'm ready to move. I'm ready for summer, but I'm not ready for this school year to be over. It's jury week at Eastman starting Monday, which now means nothing different for my schedule except that I may actually get to see some of my friends from Eastman who I've missed like crazy all semester. I'm hopeful.
Yesterday I went to take the bus back home from the River Campus only to change my mind, put on my rollerblades for the first time in almost 10 years, and take a nice, long rollerblade trip home with Genna. We talked about being apart for the summer, my fears of commitment, friends... lots of things. I love that we can just talk like that. I had such an amazing time skating along the river and downtown to my apartment. It felt great. I went to Chabad last night for Shabbos for the first time in I don't know how long. It was a small crowd, but mostly regulars, and those are my favorite nights. When I got there and saw Devorah Leah and got a chance to give her a hug after setting out the fish, I realized how much I'd missed her. I'd missed Chabad in general and my med school friends who go there who I never see otherwise now and Mendel, too, but it was seeing and getting a hug from her that made my night. I talked to Dave and Shira and listened to Rabbi Asher give his speech while enjoying my favorite Chabad dish (cinnamon-noodle kugel) and remembered how much going there every Friday night used to be such a huge part of my life. I really missed that.
During my time alone, my mind can't sit still. I'm so overwhelmed by everything that has happened over the past 3 months, and it's all coming down on me in one big heap now. I just hope I can put it aside long enough to get my work done. I want to be a good friend, but how I can be there for anyone else when I have no clue what the Hell is going through my head? I feel like I've made a strong connection with a friend from U of R who's going to Spain next year. I'll really miss him. He's made me feel so much better these past 2 weeks.
There's no good way to end this, so I'll inspire myself with the poem that mad me fall in love with Pushkin (translated, but it's still amazing):
To... [1825]
I recollect that wondrous meeting,
That instant I encountered you,
When like an apparition fleeting,
Like beauty's spirit, past you flew.
Long since, when hopeless grief distressed me,
When noise and turmoil vexed, it seemed
Your voice still tenderly caressed me,
Your dear face sought me as I dreamed.
Years passed; their stormy gusts confounded
And swept away old dreams apace.
I had forgotten how you sounded,
Forgot the heaven of your face.
In exiled gloom and isolation
My quiet days meandered on,
The thrill of awe and inspiration,
And life, and tears, and love, were gone.
My soul awoke from inanition,
And I encountered you anew,
And like a fleeting apparation,
Like beauty's spirit, past you flew.
My pulses bound in exultation,
And in my heart once more unfold
The sense of awe and inspiration,
The life, the tears, the love of old.