anonymous

I met two interesting people this week, thought I would write about them.

Interesting Person #1

 Early saturday morning ( I realize "early" is a relative term, but I think we can all agree on 7 am as early) I am running ridiculously late. Rico, my car, has been having some serious issues so I had to take him to the doctor. Obstacle- it is hard to find a good mechanic, so I opted to drive all the way to Glendora to Bob's automotive where I know they aren't trying to steal dollars from me. But I digress. I am late and I realize that my jacket is MIA- then I remember that I left it in my office at school so I have to jet over to Vanguard. What a pain that is since, like I said, I was already late.

I park my car illegally, punch the emergency lights, and sprint out of the car. Only to hear "Excuse me, MISS!". I whip around and  a man no younger than 70, is impatiently waiting for me to acknowledge his presence.

"morning, can I help you?"

"Do you go to this school?" He studied me intently.

"yes, I do"

"Faculty or student, if ya dont mind me asking?"

"student, sir"

"I like this school. I am a christian too, ya know. I need to ask you two questions."

At this point, I am thinking: 1. I can't believe I got sucked into this conversation when I am late. 2. Is there anyone else awake on this campus so I can pawn his questions off to someone else? 3. I should have lied- he is probably going to ask me something deep that needs some serious attention. Possibly counseling.

"Sure, of course". Yeah I would say that- even though I really just wanted to bolt.

"I have this shirt it's my favorite," as he pulled out an old flannel shirt from a target bag. "I think I did the bleach wrong, I think what I was supposed to do was dilute it more, but I kind of just dumped it in there...". He described to me in much detail, for circa ten minutes, how he thought the bleach had come to ruin the shirt. It wasn't really ruined, there was just a yellowish spot on it.

"So what do I do about it". Apparently that was question number one.

"Actually I don't think there's much ya can do"

"well, what would you do if this was your favorite shirt". I don't think that was question number two. He probably just noticed I was trying to shirk out of conversation.

"I would try to take it to a dry cleaner, I guess?" Lame answer. I know.

"that's a good idea. also, do you think there is any way to re-dye the shirt?" I think that was question number two. I am now intrigued by his dedication to the shirt.

" I think it might be possible" not sure if thats true, but I think he just needed some hope to cling to.

"ok, I need a dry cleaner"

we parted ways after I gave him some very detailed directions. How interesting that a man showed up on campus at 7 in the morning hoping to find a christian that would help him with his laundry.

interesting person #2

As I was perusing through the aisles of Borders, I lingered for a bit in the religion section. I stared at this super post-modern new testament bible for the longest time. It is not really a Bible, it looks and feels more like a fashion magazine, some stunning photos, some weird ones, but the chapter to this magazine are the books of the NT- ya know Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, etc. Random passages are already pre-highlighted and the pages wrinkle easily. Sam interrupted by bible judging to ask me if I had ever read The Case for Christ. Before I could answer a twenty-something man in a tweed jacket and teal collared shirt spoke up.

"sorry to interrupt, but if I could, I mean if you don't mind, that book just isnt the greatest". Ballsy entrance. Interesting guy.

"are you guys christians or anything?" We told him we were, he looked- actually I can't describe how he looked. It might have been pleased, maybe expectant. Truth is, the man kind of cowered, and semi- twitched. Not awkwardly, or as though it were natural. More so as though he had a plethora of information that was bursting from within his veins and charging rapidly through his neural system. It was like he wanted to contain himself, but the knowledge in his body, that probably outweighed his red blood count, was making an escape through his very pores. 

He told us he had studied biblical Greek at Chapman, and is now studying something brilliant at another impressive place, but I can't remember. 

Mystery genius man recommended some of the collected scriptures from Thomas, Judas, and Mary. Obviously not canonized testaments (thank you, Christian Heritage), but he promised they would revolutionize the manner in which I responded to the New Testament.

I was intrigued to say the least. My mind wandered as he told me about how one of his professors was an editor of this collection of testaments, what discrepancies exist in the process of canonization, ...(continued intelligent murmurings-couldn't keep up with them all). i thought about how awesome book stores are, and how great it is that people get so excited and passionate about a subject that their very body has to reflect that rush.

He looked at the magazine/Bible I was still holding. After introducing him to the piece, I asked him for his opinion- figured it would be a good one.

"These are so ridiculous, they have a picture of this lady who is starving, and they probably didn't even pay her a cent to do it... while they start making money off of this thing". He is probably right.

He was obviously brilliant, and not too pushy, which might have been his greatest quality. He introduced me to the book, and mildly crept away. I didn't feel pressured to buy the book- isnt that the worst when salesmen follow you around a store and forcibly or coercively cause you to purchase something you know you're going to regret later on? but i digress...

a death of sorts...a chance at rebirth...a chance at growth

Do not go gentle into that good night, 
Old age should burn and rave at close of day; 
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right, 
Because their words had forked no lightning they 
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright 
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, 
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, 
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, 
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight 
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, 
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height, 
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray. 
Do not go gentle into that good night. 
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

-Dylan Thomas

the infamous debrief

I feel old. Not old like a shrinking, feeble, grandma. Just old enough to feel reminiscent and enough to have some "lasts" that are heartbreaking. 

Still not old enough to stop feeling invincible or idealistic, but just enough to resent the ending of a lot of different things.

it is not unreasonable to resent the fact that your goals have become accomplishments. 

suppression: prevent the development, action, or expression of a feeling, impulse, idea, etc.

suppressing is not dealing. 

This weekend I had my last ASB retreat in Palm Springs. We do this every year (this is my third time going) and every year, on Saturday night, the whole group goes out to a nice dinner and then we come back to the hotel and we debrief the year. 

Debriefs consist of detailed recaps, confessions, testimonials, and thank you's. 

Last year was awkward.  Some people had so much that still needed to be processed that the actual debrief was short, or insincere. Some people cussed like sailors so that everyone knew what kind of year they had. I was actually so concerned with the people who would be on my team for next year (this year) and how I should present myself as the upcoming president that I didn't really care what was going on in that room.  That debrief took around 4 hours. 

This year, I had nothing else to look forward to (for this organization, at least), no people who I needed to observe, nothing to distract myself from the reality that this year is almost over. 

I started off the night, and in a valiant attempt to not cry, I just went around the room and shared how these people had impacted my life and how I have witnessed them grow throughout the year. Sometimes people just need to be recognized, or reminded that others do care. It was amazing to see how people react to having certain truths about themselves be realized by others, especially if they are not able to see it in themselves to begin with.

We had a poll going of people who would cry at the debrief. I was not in anyones bracket.

I wept. I didn't cry during my debrief, but whenever another senior spoke and started to wrestle with the reality of graduation, or whenever an underclass men told me I am a person they look up to, admire, are afraid of, or were grateful for my leadership, I lost it. Especially when the one person I had battled with all year long publicly thanked me and apologized for the seemingly relentless hatred.

I was told that I am loved, that people were grateful to work alongside of me, that I have inspired others, that I have left a legacy, and that I have been a testament to the fact that it is ok to be an independent woman.

It was so meaningful to hear these things, to be affirmed, and to be encouraged in the places that I have the deepest rooted insecurities.

I also heard the most comical stories of this past year, that really feel like forever ago.

 I apparently freak out in the Bridge often. quick story for you:

freshmen, Ellie recounts story of one of our first interactions.

" The first time I really talked to Catherine was the day that she interrogated me. She had just been told on her peer evaluations that she can be intimidating, and she wanted to find out who said that about her- I was the only one in the Bridge at the time so she called me over. She put me in Lexy's office, turned of all the lights, sat me down on the couch, and grabbed the floor lamp and shined it in my face. Then she asked me whether or not I thought she was intimidating"

holy hell, I am a psycho. If she didn't think I was intimidating before that, she definitely deserved to after. I don't even remember doing that.

I am prepared to graduate. I am ready to be done with class. I am so ready to be done with debate and the student government; however, I am not ready to lose this community.

Some of my closest friends were in that room last night debriefing for nearly 6 hours, and I am still dealing with what was put out into the universe last night. I looked around the room and saw 20 seniors crying with me- men, women, emotional, stoic, tough, unconcerned, over- invested people crying. 

It was uncomfortably liberating.

I am actually having a hell of a time writing this blog.

maybe I am not done debriefing.

I loved that so many people shared their hearts last night. 

we ended the night with prayer, laughter, and disbelief that we had just spent 6 hours talking about yukky feelings.

at this moment:

I can hear the constant traffic on the 55 Freeway. 

I can feel the moisture in the air that is blowing in my window from the ocean.

I am in my apartment, that is now quiet but just hours ago was filled with people laughing, fighting, shunning, and dancing.

I can hear myself typing away, it is both a sporadic and rhythmic pace.

My head is filled with silly thoughts.

My heart is heavy.

Currently Reading:

When Crickets Cry by Charles Martin

Currently Listening to:

Remain- Tyrone Wells

Free- Gavin DeGraw

*lots of Choir Music for Easter Sunday that should have been memorized weeks ago.

Currently Thinking about: 

This is the first Easter apart from my family.

I have some amazing friends.

A good book is far better than anything on TV.

I probably shouldnt have purchased so many things this week.= Buyers Remorse

I never have Buyers remorse to the point where I would ever return a pretty thing.

I have to wake up really early for a call time tomorrow morning. It is going to hurt.

Easter Sunday.

Sacrifice.

Love.

saddened plea

One of the most painful things that my family hardly ever speaks about is the loss of my grandfather, John Riley. 

I never met him, but I am told he was a wonderful, caring, and highly educated man. He taught at a University in Texas and was the strong provider of his family. Aside from those things, I don't know much about him because he died when my Dad was really young. 

He was killed by a drunk driver on the way to see my aunt become homecoming queen during a high school football game.  

I can't even grasp what it must have been like for my dad and his family to experience that loss. Someone stole his life and in doing so severely affected the 5 children and wife he survived, and impacted generations to come- I am a testament to that.

I never met either of my grandparents on my dad's side. My grandmother died not long after the death of her husband. Her health, sanity, and stability suffered after she became a widow.

My father was an orphan by the time he got into high school.

I wish I knew what subject he taught, what it was like for him to fight in the war, or what his favorite song was. I wish I were able to tell him that I am graduating soon.

I would have loved to have met the people that knew my dad when he was young.

It breaks my heart to see how my dad has had to deal  with those losses throughout his life. Those pains have caused pains in my immediate family as well. The scars may not be visible, but we are all a little wounded.

It has been a long time since the death of John Riley- and yet people are still so incredulously selfish and reckless that they will chance the lives of people and potentially ruining the lives of many others by drinking and driving. Is it really possible to live in these realities, and still be able to ignore the consequences?

I watched the news today, and saw the family, teammates, and fans mourning the loss of Nick Adenhart. He was killed by a 22 year old man who is now facing massive charges. I would prosecute the hell out of him.

The loss of Nick Adenhart made me sick to my stomach, and so ridiculously angry  it brought me to tears. My heart weeps for the family that is currently facing this reality and beginning the battle for normalcy that will undoubtedly take many years to ascertain. 

I know situations such as this happen often, but this was a massive reminder of how one person's disregard for human life can hurt so many others.

I can't find it in my heart to forgive this just yet.

Senior Cruise= Official Check out of School weekend

Observations about cruise:

It is humanly possible to lay out for 18 hours in one weekend and not die

(Virgin) Pina Coladas are great poolside

(Virgin) Pina Coladas are not free

I am an amazing dancer. **Amazing is 

a relative term. Very Subjective.

I love looking at little towel animals.

Even if you are on a boat for a short amount of time, such as 3 days, when you finally get off the boat you will feel like you are still rocking for at least a week. 

Drunk people are highly entertaining. Especially ones that attack Chris Taylor during karaoke.

Katie and I "don't want no scrubs"- TLC

There is a lot of food to be had in this world. Especially Melting Chocolate cakes.

Highlights from the Paradise Boat, Love Boat, Senior Cruise, Awesome-ness:

Katie and Tom dance off

Chris putting the sizzle on the steak

Karaoke

Drunk girl falling on the couch, her legs over her head, flailing wildly while we laugh- laugh not help

pictures at sunset

veranda laying out party

Club REX- 50 Vanguard students taking over a club... too legit to quit dancing

we [don't] "blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-a-alcohol, baby!"