University of Richmond

Archive for November, 2008

Moments of a Moment

This week has been very hectic.  So was this weekend.  So it comes with no small amount of weight that I say I’m very glad Thanksgiving break is here.  Emphasis on break.  The next few days will not be an abandonment of work so much as a catch-all study marathon with a couple big dinners thrown in.  I’m very excited to see my cousins–some of which I haven’t seen in a while (I’m an only child so interaction is nice)–but otherwise this is going to be a long trip down calc-physics-chem way with a little MCAT prep dashed on top for taste.  I also want to write the beginning of my next screenplay.  But studying comes first.  And the homework–don’t even get me started on the homework.

In other news, I went to a dance on Friday night.  Occasionally, I will remark on the international club socials–or even write entire posts on them–because they are one of my favorite parts of college.  Formals are thrown once a semester and this semester’s took place on Friday night.  My date and I left in one of the buses that is sponsored for the event at 10:30 and came home around three in the morning, but not before dancing the night away to a line-up of songs taken almost exclusively from the early 90s.  That, of course, pleased me–I love 90s alternative and dance music.  What’s more, I was able to revert to being a little six-year-old in the back of our old Volvo listening to Casey Kasem on the radio on the way to school, my hair in braids and a big bouncing smile on my face.  I loved the whole experience of my childhood–I was very lucky to have a good one–so it was great to relive my alt-radio days. 

international_club_formal_fall_08.jpg

patrick_burns_fall_08.jpg 

Then, on Saturday, my friends and I decided to be creative.  My really good friend on campus, Steph, whose picture has graced this blog before will be abandoning me next semester to go abroad to Rome–not that I blame her, I would go in a heartbeat if I could.  She suggested that our little group go off campus to a pottery painting place and, well, paint little ceramic figures and stuff in an effort to make a memory for when she leaves–not that we aren’t crazy enough to burn our personalities into people’s brains anyway.  So the four of us drove to Carytown and spent time together painting ceramic animals.  Victor decorated a cat, Patrick a horse.  Steph painted a lightning bug/butterfly/frog creature and I opted for the same butterfly/frog figure and a little man figurine that I thought was adorable.  I named him Finster–because he looks like one.

Anyway, the extent of my everything has yet to be determined but I’m okay right now and that’s as far as I’m looking until Christmas break–ah, now there’s a real break!

Gravity will release you,

Jordan

north_court-fire_tree.jpg

Quote of the week:

“The secret of health for both mind and body is not to mourn for the past, worry about the future, or anticipate troubles, but to live in the present moment wisely and earnestly.” - Buddha

Life–left of center…

The past week and a half has been a mixed bag of positive experiences trying to compensate for one gigantic monumental tragic event.  I’ve had tests, meetings with teachers, moments alone when it was hard to breathe–I’m going to score these as more negative than under ordinary circumstances.  I’ve also reached out to strangers for comfort, interacted at a deeper level with my friends, and found a still peace that would be terrifying if I wasn’t too numb to feel it.  Or rather, the peace is numbing me out.  In fact, that’s probably more accurate.  Think of it as a fog that invested itself in my sanity.

 Though that sounds depressing (not to me but to some I know it will) rest assured that this post comes with at least a lining of innocent hope.  My mourning period is over–because I realized that it would be, for all intents and purposes, impossible to mourn my friend.  She was so full of rambunctious energy, so happy and crazy and enthusiastic.  She loved me in a million unforgettable ways and her presence is no less felt than it was before. 

 outback-me_and_fire.jpg

So I’m going to leave you with that, at least for now, and I’ll write more later,

Catch the light,

Jordan

Quote of the week:

“They are not long, the weeping and the laughter,
Love and desire and hate:
I think they have no portion in us after
We pass the gate.
They are not long, the days of wine and roses;
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for a while, then closes
Within a dream.”
-Ernest Dowson

Just Breathe

I lost my best friend this weekend.  And by lost I don’t mean we couldn’t find each other for fifteen minutes.  She died of cancer last Wednesday.  I got the news yesterday.  Relying on friends in times like these can help, especially when I can’t hug my mom and dad, when I can’t go to her funeral, when all I can do is call her parents and give them a pathetic “I’m so sorry.”  Even though I mean it, it still seems like such a small thing to do.

What’s worse is that I hadn’t been in contact with her for the last year and a half.  Unfortunately, she changed her number and I forgot to call back when she sent me a Christmas card with the new one.  I was getting ready to study abroad and I thought that I would get to her in the summer.  But I didn’t.  And though I believe that people go exactly where they believe they’ll go when they die–I know she’s at peace wherever she is so I’m not sad about that–I feel as though I missed so much of her life.  Because I didn’t pick up a telephone.  Because I kept putting it off even when last week I knew I should have called her–I had the strongest feeling that I needed to.  And here her parents were calling everyone they knew hoping they’d be able to find my phone number to call and tell me that their only child had died of lung cancer at 20. 

I know that she was in a relationship with a young man (one I never had the chance to meet) and that she finished her college program in spite of her chemotherapy and radiation–she went through a year of it.  And I wasn’t there.  And I was crying over a broken heart.  And I was self-absorbed.  And I forgot to call.  And I want to know her favorite memory.  And what she dreamed about.  And what new book–song, restaurant–had become her favorite.  And how her goals changed.  And I want to know if she went in her sleep.  If she was surrounded by family.  If she knew I always thought about her.  If she still loved me even though I wasn’t there.  If she knew I would have come if only I had known.  If she knows that I’m sorry.  And I want to know about her cat.  And about the things she thought about near the end. 

Here are a few of my favorite moments from my time with Lori:

1) She loved frogs.  She once had a small albino frog named Elmo that lived in a jar full of water on the bottom of her bookshelf. 

2) On my eighth birthday I had a slumber party where we slept in a tent in the back yard.  In the middle of the night she asked to go home and my mother refused.  So she rolled over on top of me and bit my shoulder.  I couldn’t stop laughing even though it hurt.

3) The first memory I have of her is from preschool.  She hauled off and slapped her mother in the face–just because.  Her mother picked her up by the shoulders, pushed her up against the wall, and told her never to do that again.

…I knew we would be friends forever.

4) She had this guttural battle-cry.  That’s the only way to describe it–a loud, obnoxious yell she sounded when she wanted to warn you that she was about to charge you, or sit on you, or do something crazy. 

5) She used to pee her pants when she wasn’t getting what she wanted.  She did it on purpose and it always meant that my mom had to stock up on underwear every time Lori was scheduled to sleep over. 

So many wonderful memories–even if they’re strange.  Especially because they were strange.  She was so full of energy and life and wackiness (if you’ve ever read “Wacky Wednesday” by Dr. Seuss–she’s always the one I saw when I read it).  Her dark brown hair and freckles and bright blue eyes.

Twenty years doesn’t seem long enough.

 lori.jpg

Quotes of the week:

“If you were with me tonight,

I’d sing for you just one more time

A song for a heart so big

god wouldn’t let it live.”

-”Here You Me” - Jimmy Eat World

-

“She would never say where she came from
Yesterday don’t matter if it’s gone
While the sun is bright
Or in the darkest night
No one knows
She comes and goes

Goodbye, ruby tuesday
Who could hang a name on you?
When you change with every new day
Still I’m gonna miss you…

Don’t question why she needs to be so free
Shell tell you it’s the only way to be
She just can’t be chained
To a life where nothing’s gained
And nothing’s lost
At such a cost.

Goodbye, ruby tuesday
Who could hang a name on you?
When you change with every new day
Still I’m gonna miss you…

There’s no time to lose, I heard her say
Catch your dreams before they slip away
Dying all the time
Lose your dreams
And you will lose your mind.
Ain’t life unkind?

Goodbye, ruby tuesday
Who could hang a name on you?
When you change with every new day
Still I’m gonna miss you…”

- “Ruby Tuesday” by the Rolling Stones/Franco Battiato