Graduation

The last time I had this feeling was last August. I had awakened in Montpellier, France at 4:00 a.m. to catch an early morning flight to Paris. The homesickness I had felt in the past weeks had disappeared mostly and had been replaced by pure anticipation and excitement. I was finally, FINALLY going to get to see Paris, somewhere I had wanted to go my whole life (and got close a couple times), but for one reason or another never made it there. The feeling was so intense it seemed to vibrate in my bones. But that feeling was absolutely nothing like the feeling I had when we finally made it there. That feeling that I had inside me when we made it to the middle of the road (La Grande Armée) and straight before us was the Arc de Triomphe was indescribable. I had waited for that moment my whole life and it was happening, finally.

I can’t sufficiently describe that feeling, but I can liken it to the feeling I had today as I graduated. I didn’t really expect to feel that good. I am 28 years old, have attended college intermittently since high school, changing my major nearly every semester. I went for Music, Mass Communications, History, Earth Science, Accounting (what I got my A.S. in) to name a few. Then, I decided my passion was  literature, so I went to school for English. While studying that, I also ignited a passion for language which is where I finally found my niche.

Before today, I felt mostly ashamed of myself. I was happy to be finished with school and all, but there was a huge part of me that felt inadequate. I had watched people my age get their Master’s and then PhDs while I was still but a mere undergrad. I didn’t even want to walk in the graduation ceremony, but there was no way my family was going to let me get away with that. But I am glad they talked me into it, because like I said, it felt unexpectedly good. But here’s why. Over the ten years it has been since I graduated high school, I have faced many obstacles. There were points when I could have simply given up on education. It certainly would have been easier. But I didn’t give up, even when people didn’t think it was worth my time to go. Even when people said hurtful things to me that could discourage even the strongest people. It felt good because I had finished something people thought I was too dumb to do, or something I would give up on.

The thing is, I didn't give up, no matter what. I may be a little (okay, a lot) behind for someone my age, but I am finally getting somewhere. And I’m not finished yet. I plan to get my Master’s and then, perhaps, my PhD. I don’t know where I’ll end up career-wise. I may end up staying nearby, but I long for foreign soil. I have big, big plans and goals. When I want something, I do whatever I possibly can to get it. And I never, EVER give up. And for those of you who don’t think I can achieve something that I have every intention of achieving, well, you’ve been wrong before... 

In Case You Needed Further Proof that I am an IDIOT…

"Oh, my God! I was in the bathroom at school today minding my own business when I come out of the stall and there is a girl standing there in another stall staring at me with her pants down. That was weird enough. Then, she says, 'Sorry, I thought you were someone else.' Who on Earth did she think I was that she stood there in the stall with her pants down and the door open? Weirdo"—That is what I imagine the poor girl who saw me in the bathroom today with my pants down and the door open told her friends. Bless her heart.

 

But there are two sides to every story, here's mine, even though you will still probably side with the random girl who witnessed this because my story is stupid. I need to be smacked.

 

There is a haunted bathroom in Martin Hall. I almost always go to that bathroom because it is usually not crowded. Every once in a while you can hear strange things, like there is someone else in the bathroom with you, but there isn't. Toilets will occasionally flush by themselves. I had just had a meeting to register for Spring classes with my advisor Dr. Wiggins. She has many ghost stories from Martin Hall. One of them is about footsteps on the stairwell which is right behind her office. As I was sitting there I heard footsteps on the stairs (real ones) and thought about that story. Then, I wondered if she had ever heard anything in the haunted bathroom, which is practically right across the hall from her.

 

After I left her office, I went to said bathroom. It appeared like I was in there alone, and I heard no sounds. I assumed I was in there alone. So, I was all pants-down when a toilet a few stalls down flushed. I freaked out and opened the door to see if there was a closed door in the mirrors or if they were indeed all empty and open. No sooner than I open the stall door, the girl who was responsible for the flushing came out of the stall.

 

Like a big idiot I said, "Hi!" and she didn't respond. I spouted, "Sorry, I thought you were someone else." She didn't respond to that either. I don't know why I said it. I should have added that the someone else was a ghost, but I think I had done a good enough job of earning the crazy label already.

Flip-Plops

I have this pair of Fit Flops that I got in 2008. I paid roughly $70 for them. They were black, shiny and looked good with almost everything, not to mention that they were super comfy as opposed to your run-of-the-mill flip flops. I think I got my money's worth out of them because since I got them I wore them to pieces. Literally. The bottom of my left one has a mouth now and it was talking smack while I walked by a dozen or so patrons that were waiting outdoors at the Brass Lantern. It was bad enough that I was having to high-step like a Walking Horse to keep the bottom lip from folding backward underneath the sole and tripping me, but then, while I stepped up on the sidewalk to go into the door, my Fit Flop tried to take a bite out of the concrete. This sent me slamming into the door. Okay, so it wasn't that bad, but it did catch the attention of a few people. I gave them an embarrassed grin and shrug, but I strode forward, undefeated by my hungry shoe's antics and high-stepped my way in past two dozen more people to register "Barnett: Party of Three." Don't feel bad for my newly personified Fit Flop, it got to eat off the floor.

Hate

Today, in 20th Century Poetry, I discovered that I hate a lot of things. I kept whispering to my dear friend Savannah things like, "I hate shrimp," or, "I hate rap." (When those things were mentioned, of course, I didn't just spout them out randomly) Afterwards, I thought that she probably thinks that I am a really hateful person. She wouldn't be totally wrong to think that, I suppose. I do hate a lot of things. I hate not having money to buy a flipping snack if I want one. I hate spiders. I hate arrogance and haughtiness. I hate greed. I hate it that I'm not good at anything. I hate being hot and sweaty. I hate it that time goes by so fast. I hate it that by the time we have enough extra money to take Asia to Disney World, she will probably be too old to care to go. I hate mayonnaise.

So, YES, I am a hateful person. But is there anything wrong with hating THOSE things?

I know that there is a lot of hate in the world, just look at the Middle East. Look at how hateful political parties are toward each other right here in America. Listen to what "best friends" say about each other behind their backs... even in church. There is enough of that kind of hate in the world. I try not to involve myself in any of that. SO many people are hateful. I try to love and respect everybody, and believe me, it's hard. I think as long as I do not partake in that kind of hating, that I can be forgiven of my hatred of such trivial things. Am I wrong?

Sure, I hate lots of things, but that's just it, they're THINGS. Things do not matter, people do.

Fish & Secrets

This past weekend I learned that keeping a secret is a lot like keeping a fish alive. You can try and try to keep it, but sometimes you kill it anyway.

I had planned a sort-of-surprise party for Shannon's birthday. It was also sort-of-short notice. Asia found out about it when she heard me on the phone. She actually did really well keeping the secret. In fact, up until Friday night, you'd not have known she knew anything about it. After her softball practice that night, we went to eat at the Brass Lantern. While there, she told Shannon that he would be so happy about his surprise that he would "hug all of us."

When we got home that night we checked on the fish. I had taken them out of their bowl and put them in a jar while I cleaned the bowl. I added the clean water to the fish water a little at a time to adapt them to the clean water. Asia had been doing a much better job at caring for these fish. At least she wasn't trying to scoop them out with a glass or trying to feed them popsicles anymore.

The next day, I sent Asia and Shannon out for a few hours where I could finish cleaning the house, preparing for the party, and finally get the fish back into their bowl. I did all of this. When I put the fish back in their proper home, they were more active than they'd ever been. Lilly was attacking Goldy. I guess it was because they could finally see each other; it must have been easy to hide from each other in the old nasty water.

Shannon and Asia came home before 2:00. Goldy had to be removed from the bowl and put into protective custody, away from Lilly. She had scales missing from one of her sides and her fins looked like the sails of a ship that had just encountered a hurricane. Randy and Martha (Shannon's dad and stepmom) came a little after 2:30. Right away, Asia started whining about being hungry. I took her into her room and told her that we could not eat until the other guests got here in an hour. She kept whining and got sent to her room. Shannon went in her room to see what her problem was and she said, "I'm so hungry and Mama said I can't eat until the other guests get here in an hour." That secret was on life support already, and Asia just pulled the plug.

Then, I discovered Goldy had nose-dived to the bottom of the jar and was straight up like a sunken submarine stuck in the abyssal plain. She wouldn't budge. We all checked her out; we shook and tapped the jar. She was dead, just in time for the aforementioned guests to arrive. I left her just as she was, nose down in her vessel of death, in the middle of the kitchen table. Sounds a bit morbid, I suppose, but it sure made a good conversation piece when the other guests arrived shortly thereafter.

It was fun. I think Shannon was happy people came to see him for his last birthday in his twenties. There couldn't have been a more beautiful day for it. Asia went to Wal-Mart with Dad and Kendra afterwards. While she was gone, Shannon flushed Goldy. We met Asia at Wal-Mart when we went to go get groceries. The party was over; the surprise was spoiled; Goldy was dead, but to say my surprise efforts were unsuccessful would be wrong, at least somewhat. I mean, who expects to come to a party and snack while you stare at a dead fish (one that you're not about to eat for dinner)?

Plans

Spring Break. I had plans this week. My mental agenda had been perfectly mapped out. I would finish my story for the newspaper Saturday. I would deep clean my house Sunday and Monday. I would take a big long nap Tuesday. The rest of the week I would finish my research paper on the Canterbury Tales (which would mean I would actually have to start) in a leisurely manner. But that didn't happen. I was having trouble condensing all the information from my story into a small enough portion for the newspaper AND making it sound good. If you ask me, it sounds more like a glib timeline than an actual gripping story. Time will tell as the paper comes out on St. Patty's Day. I sent that in and waited and waited for a response. When I didn't hear back within a day or two, I investigated. Silly me, I must've clicked "X" again instead of "Send." I am a genius, what can I say?

Monday I had lunch with Mom, Amy, and the twins at Chaparral's. I wish I had gotten rice instead of green beans. Then I went to Wal-Mart with Amy to get some baby food. By the time we were finished, it was time for me to get Asia. Once Asia is home, it is hard to do too much.

Tuesday, Nanny came to visit. Amy came with Russell and Delilah. Nanny kept the twins at my house and Amy and I went to town. We went to Walgreen's first to get my passport photos taken. It looks more like a mug shot, as all my other photo IDs do, but that is how I look I guess. Like a felon. Then we went to the post office for Amy to get stamps and a box, to the county clerk's office to get me a passport application, and then to Big John's for BBQ. We came back and ate lunch at the house with Nanny. By the time all that was over, it was time to get Asia again.

Wednesday, well, I don't really remember what I did Wednesday, but I assure you it was nothing productive. I don't even think I took a shower Wednesday. But our neighbors who were moving out gave us their pet fish.

Thursday, Shannon let me sleep in. He was supposed to call me and wake me at 10 so I could get to work on deep cleaning the house once and for all. He forgot. I slept until noon. I had to get the pictures that go with my newspaper story to the school and get back in time to get ready for dinner. I got Asia from school early and she went with me to Pulaski to drop off the pictures. We met Nanny and Gaylon at Fiesta at 4:30. Asia's softball practice, originally scheduled for 6:00, had been cancelled due to all that dreary weather. After magnificent cheese dip, we went to Wal-Mart and got food for the fish
.
Friday, Asia was running a fever and coughing, so I kept her home from school. Mom took her to the doctor and I went with Dad to turn in my passport application and we went to Wal-Mart to get Asia's medicine. Dad stayed a few minutes and visited with Asia. She gets to missing her grandpa now that he works on Friday nights. Mom, Asia, and I placed an order at the Brass Lantern (since it only a mile from me) and we had a good lunch. That evening, I finally got started cleaning on my bedroom.

I pretty much finished cleaning the house today, but that was about it. Asia was feeling much better, even though her nose is still stuffy and she has a cough.

I didn't get my paper started, but I don't guess I did all that bad. It was a pretty good week, with good company, even though things didn't go as I had planned. But they never really do…

Qu'est-ce que c'est? (What is it?)

This is the news some of you have been waiting to hear. I am sure many of you thought that I was pregnant. well, GOTCHA! I had a meeting this afternoon with the business office at school. It was about an amazing opportunity that was really hard to pass up. I had to see if I could get the scholarships and aid for this. What was it? A study abroad program where I would be studying at the University of Montpellier in Montpellier, France for three weeks this summer.

Montpellier is in the South of France on the Mediterranean Sea. The university is one of the oldest in the world. The program is not just for college students. Businesses from all over the world send employees there to learn the French language. College professors go to learn how to teach French, or maybe to learn more of it. We would be staying in the residence halls of the university. On the weekends, there would be excursions to places like a walled Medieval village, Roman aqueducts; Barcelona, Spain; or the mountains of Italy. On the off days during the week we could go where ever we choose, like the beach, or shopping, or just where ever we can go in a day. To top it off we end the adventure with a weekend in Paris at what Dr. Ireson says is one of the best hotels in Paris. I do not know the name. Breakfast is included in the price, along with tuition, room, a metro pass for the duration of the stay, the weekend excursions, airfare, and the Paris weekend. If I do not get all the funding, I do not get to go.

So did I get it? Yes. I am very excited. I am aplying for my passport later this week. I will be gone from July 30th to August 22nd.