Monday, December 5, 2011

Hash Browns and Making a Scene


…are two of my favorite things.  I have always loved breakfast food, but Rockhurst breakfast food is in a league of its own.  There are very few things I will get out of bed for on a Saturday morning (which sometimes turns into afternoon with my sleeping habits, thank God the cafeteria serves breakfast until 2:00 pm), but a plate of  hash browns—specifically the square ones, aka “square potatoes”—is one of them.  Luckily for me, Rockhurst has a wonderful tradition around finals time that fits much better with my night owl ways—Midnight Breakfast.  Midnight Breakfast always kicks off our finals week with as much breakfast food as you can eat between 10 pm and midnight for the price of one canned good or $1, courtesy of Student Senate.  Everyone is there, and I do mean everyone.  Just about all of Rockhurst turns out to enjoy music, breakfast, and lots of loud conversation before buckling down for finals.  It’s everything I love about going to a small school—being able to look around the cafeteria and seeing all your friends, your friends’ friends, the guy in your Shakespeare class, the girl who was your orientation leader freshmen year but you swear doesn’t remember you (she probably does).  I just want to run around the cafeteria and say hi to everyone, and the minute I try to walk somewhere I find myself conducting multiple conversations at once, yelling at someone walking by to hold on one second because boy do I have a story for them, and I haven’t seen so-and-so all week, I wonder how their nursing test went….you get the picture.  It’s happy chaos.
            What could possibly improve situation with so much good food and good company?  A flash mob, of course.  A group of girls in my sorority (Alpha Sigma Alpha) decided to do one as a fun way to kick off finals…and somehow I got roped into joining.  Don’t get me wrong, I do secretly love these things, so it didn’t take much convincing.  While I am too much of a chicken and too busy to get involved in real theatre at Rockhurst, I have enjoyed doing smaller stuff, like our student written and produced plays, Theaterworks, or random impromptu performances friends have cooked up (we did a freeze frame kind of thing of the Last Supper painting in the cafeteria once).  But I can’t dance to save my life, so this was a bit more of a challenge.  But another awkward dancing friend and I decided we would just be the last to join the mob, because we didn’t want to miss out.  And it was a blast…we did a mash up of songs and I think once everyone got over the shock of seeing us suddenly start dancing in the cafeteria, people enjoyed it.  And during the next Christmas song that came on after we were done, a ton of people suddenly stood up at their tables and started clapping and dancing.  Pretty soon half the cafeteria was rocking out to “All I Want for Christmas is You,” yelling, clapping, twirling each other around.  And we all just looked at each other and said “only at Rockhurst.”  It is perfect that during the most hellish week of school, I always get the best reminder of why I love this place. 



link to the video (hope this works: http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=2355202278054
           

Thursday, December 1, 2011

 Now That We've Had A Week to Digest the Canned Cranberries

           “Dear Eight Pound, Six Ounce, Newborn Baby Jesus...” 

Of the many suggestions I received about how to begin my Thanksgiving blog (runners up included prairie dogs and gin rummy), this one was the winner, suggested by my dad but quoted by my sister, Andrea.  Twice.  At each Thanksgiving dinner we sat down to, Andrea made a valiant attempt to deliver these lines from Talladega Nights with a straight face, and (sadly) we all cracked up both times.
It has been exactly a week since Thanksgiving, and now that I’ve finished this week’s slew of papers, it seems like it is time to return to that day of chocolate pie and crescent rolls (I am one of those rare souls that doesn’t really like turkey), and dedicate this post to my most loyal readers—my family.  I sent the link to my dad, who sent the link to my mom, who naturally sent the link to the entire family, and now I have an appreciative audience with all sorts of suggestions regarding what I should write about.
But while I’ll spare you the details of prairie dog hunting and gin rummy rules, I will say how nice it was to see my family.  The best part about all their suggestions is that everyone seemed to be giving them at once—compliments and comments interspersed with questions about school and lots of hugs.  While Aunt Katie asked about my bet, my 10-year-old cousin Hallie was asking me a thousand questions about my roommates and my house (she loves asking about college life)—I’m thinking I should just make her roommate stat cards, like baseball cards, so she can have them for quick reference. 
Thanksgiving was a day for some serious gratitude and for some fun times.  On the serious side, my grandma on my dad’s side (“Gamma”) made a speech before dinner about her gratitude for our family that had at least me, my mom, and my sister tearing up.  On my mom’s side of the family, we said the Thanksgiving grace we say every year (no, not the one from Talladega Nights), which my grandma (“Nana”) just read to me over the phone so I could include it here:

“Thank you, Lord, for this Thanksgiving gathering.  We are grateful to be connected to each other and to those who are absent but remain dear to us.  We remember with gratitude those who have lived before us and passed on a legacy that enriches us.  We anticipate with joy those will live after us.  Oh God, we give our deepest thanks that we are one with each other, with what has been, and with what will be.  Amen.”

            Fun times included my cousin Brian and I (as newbie 21-year-olds) discovering that the Thanksgiving wine isn’t as good as the sparkling cider, and trying to sneakily dump our glasses in various other adult’s glasses while no one was looking.  At my Nana and Pop’s house we discovered that it was almost impossible to play Scattegories and taboo together because we all think too much alike—who automatically thinks Betty Boop for a famous female?  Apparently both Aunt Katie and I do.  And Sam and Andrea—my siblings—both yelling “Beer Pong!” for a hobby that begins with ‘b’ definitely turned some heads (especially because I know neither have them have even seen a beer pong game).  I dread the onset of finals, but I enjoy thinking back to that day—a time to be Thankful for all the blessings and happiness I have found both with my family and here at school. 
           
My favorite people (The Body family)