update at last / obligatory graduation post
I just watched the final episode of Stargate and almost cried at the credits. Ten years on the air, and now there's no more.
This would not, of course, be hitting me quite as hard if it weren't airing so soon after Commencement. For the most part, I've maintained a persistent state of denial about graduating, aided by a trip to Ann Arbor that kept me busy and a spectacular cold that kept me oblivious to the world and the passage of time. In the mean time my dreams have been unsettling, haunted by sinister diplomas that chase after me in anthropomorphized blue holders, framing my days with the knowledge that All is Not Right. I'm envious of the few people I know who actually wanted to graduate. There were aspects of my life that I was becoming bored with at Carleton, but I could have found ways to liven things up. There was still so much I wanted to do there.
Enough of that. The drive from Northfield to Ann Arbor finally proved to me that the Midwest really does have some hills worthy of the name, and a far more variated beauty than my West Coast prejudices led me to believe. My sister generously drove most of the twelve-hour trip, and I hacked away in the passenger seat and generously gave her my cold. I coughed so hard that I burst some blood vessels in my eyes. It was kind of exciting.
Once I was mobile again, I headed up to the city and found books. Many books! Shelf after shelf after shelf surrounded by piles and piles of beautiful used books! There are definite advantages to cities, particularly university districts. My sister pointed me to a street that used to encompass Ann Arbor's book district, which made me picture the book district in Read or Die and fantasize about shopping like Yomiko Readman. Unfortunately, the Ann Arbor book district is now dominated by an enormous Borders. There's still an amazing used store named after C.S. Lewis' Voyage of the Dawn Treader - one of my favorite novels when I was a child - and another fantastic old store that not only has piles of used books that can't even fit on the shelves, but also a number of old newspapers covering the Apollo landings.
I didn't buy anything, of course. My luggage was already exactly at the weight limit, and I couldn't have fit even a newspaper in my bag. This was problematic, since not only did Ann Arbor have amazing bookstores, but I found the best yarn store I've ever been to next door to my sister's grocery store. Obviously my sister's neighborhood was expressly designed to entrap me. Not that there was a lot to do other than go to bookstores - when Divya drove up to pay me a visit, we googled every variation of "What on earth can we do in Ann Arbor?" that we could think of and got jack in return. But hey, we've spent the last four years in Northfield. We can entertain ourselves. And it was fantastic to see her, and to restore my faith in the possibility of seeing friends again post-graduation.
Well. I could ramble much about home, and probably will later. But this post is already longer than intended. And so to sleep, perchance to dream, as my mother always used to tell me as she put me to bed as a child. * Perhaps, tonight, those pesky diplomas will leave me alone.
*It was a bit of a shock to realize to recognize the phrase when I read Hamlet for the first time and realized that that particular passage is about suicide, not sleep. Thanks, Mum.a
This would not, of course, be hitting me quite as hard if it weren't airing so soon after Commencement. For the most part, I've maintained a persistent state of denial about graduating, aided by a trip to Ann Arbor that kept me busy and a spectacular cold that kept me oblivious to the world and the passage of time. In the mean time my dreams have been unsettling, haunted by sinister diplomas that chase after me in anthropomorphized blue holders, framing my days with the knowledge that All is Not Right. I'm envious of the few people I know who actually wanted to graduate. There were aspects of my life that I was becoming bored with at Carleton, but I could have found ways to liven things up. There was still so much I wanted to do there.
Enough of that. The drive from Northfield to Ann Arbor finally proved to me that the Midwest really does have some hills worthy of the name, and a far more variated beauty than my West Coast prejudices led me to believe. My sister generously drove most of the twelve-hour trip, and I hacked away in the passenger seat and generously gave her my cold. I coughed so hard that I burst some blood vessels in my eyes. It was kind of exciting.
Once I was mobile again, I headed up to the city and found books. Many books! Shelf after shelf after shelf surrounded by piles and piles of beautiful used books! There are definite advantages to cities, particularly university districts. My sister pointed me to a street that used to encompass Ann Arbor's book district, which made me picture the book district in Read or Die and fantasize about shopping like Yomiko Readman. Unfortunately, the Ann Arbor book district is now dominated by an enormous Borders. There's still an amazing used store named after C.S. Lewis' Voyage of the Dawn Treader - one of my favorite novels when I was a child - and another fantastic old store that not only has piles of used books that can't even fit on the shelves, but also a number of old newspapers covering the Apollo landings.
I didn't buy anything, of course. My luggage was already exactly at the weight limit, and I couldn't have fit even a newspaper in my bag. This was problematic, since not only did Ann Arbor have amazing bookstores, but I found the best yarn store I've ever been to next door to my sister's grocery store. Obviously my sister's neighborhood was expressly designed to entrap me. Not that there was a lot to do other than go to bookstores - when Divya drove up to pay me a visit, we googled every variation of "What on earth can we do in Ann Arbor?" that we could think of and got jack in return. But hey, we've spent the last four years in Northfield. We can entertain ourselves. And it was fantastic to see her, and to restore my faith in the possibility of seeing friends again post-graduation.
Well. I could ramble much about home, and probably will later. But this post is already longer than intended. And so to sleep, perchance to dream, as my mother always used to tell me as she put me to bed as a child. * Perhaps, tonight, those pesky diplomas will leave me alone.
*It was a bit of a shock to realize to recognize the phrase when I read Hamlet for the first time and realized that that particular passage is about suicide, not sleep. Thanks, Mum.a