Zummmba!

            I’ll give you three guesses as to what my new hobby at Rockhurst is.  That’s right, I—the girl with two left feet—have officially been converted to loving Zumba.  For weeks I had walked by the Party Barn (I think its official name is the Student Activities Hall) and heard the music, but was too afraid to actually go in.  But thanks to a friend who swore to me that her hands were always going to the left when everyone else’s were going to the write and she still had not been kicked out, I decided to give it a try.  And I loved it!

            This semester Rockhurst started offering Zumba twice a week on Mondays and Thursdays at 4:00.  The sessions usually last about an hour, and you pay either $5 a session or you can get passes for different amounts of time.  I bought a $5 pass just to try it out and immediately the next day went and bought a longer pass.  Even though I was a terrible dancer (it gets easier once you learn the songs), it was actually a good work out—everyone is sweating by the end and I was actually sore the next day.  Getting a good workout was something I was concerned about after a few freshman year forays into Taibo that really didn’t do anything, no matter how much my roommate and I assured each other that they really did. 

            But this was a good workout, a stress reliever, and a fun group of people (most of whom are just as bad at it as I am, so we just hang in the back).  I even convinced my roommate Sam to skip a nap to come with me, and even though she danced the first half of the session with a bored and ticked off look on her face (seeing someone try to shake their hips and look bored at the same time is a sight worth paying $5 for), she warmed up and was leaping and waving her arms around by the end of the session like I knew she would be.  So my advice for all you exercise fiends out there: try some Zumba—even if your hands never seem to go in the right direction.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KPv8ZGrb78Y – a 10,000 times more legitimate version of the Shakira Waka Waka song that we do, which is my favorite. 

Project Unnamed

            The first rule of honors options is you don’t talk about honors options.  At least, that’s what it felt like to my freshman self when I joined the honors program.  I couldn’t quite figure out what they were, and my upperclassman friends just gave me vague and sinister warnings about avoiding them and sticking to regular honors classes. 

            So that’s what I did for two and a half years, but now I am going to debunk some of the honors option myths because I am currently working on one--and actually enjoying it.  In order to graduate in the honors program, you have to get 24 hours of honors credit.  This is easy to work on freshman and sophomore year, because most core classes are also offered as honors classes.  However, once you get to be an upperclassmen and are taking classes mostly in your major field, honors classes are a bit harder to come by.  Enter honors options.  The idea is to make some of your regular classes honors by working with the professor to do an extra project related to the class.  You propose a project, get it approved by the honors program director, and then work on it throughout the course of the semester.  Sound less mysterious? 

            Maybe, but a lot of people still think it sounds like a lot of work.  But what my upperclassman friends didn’t tell me was that this extra work could actually be fun—remember you get to pick what the project is.  Which brings me back to the introduction to this post, which is a reference to the book (and, yes, movie) Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk.  What does Fight Club have to do with honors options?  In my case, everything.

            I am taking an American Novels class, and I decided that it had the most potential for an honors option, so I went to Dr. Arthur and made my proposal: I wanted to study Fight Club, a contemporary American novel, to figure out why it became such a big cultural phenomenon if most of the literary world seems to think it is just a gross piece of shock art.  After I assured Dr. Arthur that no, I am not interested in anarchy, self-mutilation, or beating the tar out of anybody, he agreed to help me with this project, and it has been an interesting ride.  Dr. Arthur has never read Fight Club, so I’ve enjoyed hearing his reaction to it (mixed so far…he doesn’t seem super impressed, but I am secretly convinced he finds it a page-turner). 

            The project has actually evolved over the course of the semester into something a little different: Project Unnamed (this is what I have decided to call it, since I’m in Fight Club codenames mode).  I will be defining a brand new literary genre consisting of literature that deals with underground societies/conspiracies, such as Project Mayhem in Fight Club, W.A.S.T.E in The Crying of Lot 49, and the Mutafikah in Mumbo Jumbo.  My project will culminate in a mock encyclopedia entry explaining this genre, which I myself will get to name.  Suggestions are welcome, because right now I am trying to resist the temptation to name it something totally random or just name it after myself, but somehow I don't think that would be the most scholarly approach.   

                 

           Though the true name of Project Unnamed is still a mystery, hopefully after reading this post honors options aren’t, and you’ll be tempted to take one if you ever get the chance.  Because in what other class could you get your professor promising to be a character witness if the government comes after you for researching anarchist movements? 

You also might check out Dr. Arthur's Rockhurst blog for his take on our little project: http://jasonarthursblog.blogspot.com/2012/02/everything-but-fight-club-is.html

The Writing Life

                        “Appealing workplaces are to be avoided. One wants a room with no view, so imagination can meet memory in the dark.” – Annie Dillard

            As I sit here in the Rockhurst Library slogging through one of two annotated bibliographies I have due in the next few days, I am asking myself (and my friend and fellow English major Andy Boland, who has the privilege of being in over half my classes and therefore my partner in late night writing and complaining) why did I think it was a good idea to major in English?

            Andy and I determined that it is because we want to be writers who wear bathrobes and have boxes of Chinese takeout and stacks of scattered over our one room apartments, which contain nothing more valuable than our typewriters.  (As I finished typing that sentence, I got another text from Andy saying “don’t forget the indie music playing while we wear our converses”—duly noted.)  I don’t think either of us really plan on going down that path, we are thinking more along the lines of editing (me) and teaching (him), but nights like these do make us look at our lives and ask why in the world we are doing what we do. 

            And even though it is 11:44 and I have about 7 more sources to skim and cite before I can hit the sack, I find that I do have some answers:

It was a good idea to major in English because…

I now own a complete anthology of the works of Shakespeare. 

I have earned the right to say “that’s soooo postmodern.”

I got this sweet Rockhurst blogging job.

I’ve gotten strangely good at IDing what movies are based on books. 

Thanks to my attendance at every Rockhurst Poetry Jam, I could probably recite “Kublai Kahn” from memory because Dr. Kovich reads it every time.

I am one of the few and the proud who is trying to preserve the Oxford Comma. 

I get to do an independent study on Chuck Palahniuk that essentially involves hanging out in Dr. Arthur’s office discussing countercultural fiction. 

I get endless joke mileage out of telling people that one of my jobs is to blog about toilets and small office rental (don’t worry, not this one).

I can confirm from attendance at the English Club Tea Party that Dr. Miller does in fact have a mummified bird in her living room. 

I know entirely too much about the best literary research databases (Literature Resource Center, people, it’ll make your life so much easier). 

I get to read all the time.

Reading The Wasteland rocked my world (“the awful daring of a moment’s surrender/which an age of prudence can never retract/by this, and this only, we have existed”).

I know that no matter what I do, or how much money I make, I will probably really enjoy it.  Or at the very least I got to dedicate four years to becoming well read.

This post is titled “The Writing Life” because that is the title of one of Annie Dillard’s books—my favorite author and the person I am currently researching for a critical analysis paper.  It might not be the most glamorous life, and right now I’d be content to just shut all my books and go to bed, but I picked it, and I know why I picked it.  And I think Andy would agree with me in saying I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

This is on the cover of The Writing Life...I had a moment of Art History pride in Barnes &Noble when I was able to say it is Albert Pinkham Ryder's Midnight Marine (he was famous for putting random junk on his canvas before Jackson Pollock)

 

Farm Life

                Bethlehem Farms was unlike any place I have ever been to.  This lovely little farm in West Virginia, home to a group of people living in community and serving the surrounding population, was where I got to spend my spring break for a Rockhurst service trip.  When we first stepped out of the car on Sunday night, a crowd of about eight people who either live there or come to help out seasonally greeted us with hugs and a “welcome home!”  After a day of multiple flights and uncomfortable naps in a van, our first thought was, “this is so strange…are we staying with a cult?”  Nope, just the most welcoming group of people you’ll ever meet.  We warmed up to the hugs eventually, and by the end of the week, we were all tearing up as we hugged everyone goodbye and had to watch out of the van window as they waved us off then got in a circle to say a morning prayer.  At that point, we were ready to tear up our plane tickets, hop out of the van, and join them for another week of farm life.  What does farm life look like?  Here are a few of the highlights:

·         Farm Chores – Bright and early, before breakfast, but absolutely worth it to be outside as the sun is coming up.  Some of my jobs included making garden pathways and sorting through the scraps of a shed that had been torn down.

·         Organic Food – I am a picky eater.  An absurdly picky eater who doesn’t particularly like vegetables or noodles or really anything new.  But I vowed to try everything that week, and now I can’t get over cravings for butternut squash and curry soup, chili with all sorts of veggies, and the best homemade bread I have ever tasted.

·         Service sites – We went to a different service site each day, though one group always stayed at the farm one day to cook and clean.  I helped patch a roof, rip up an old floor and put in a new one (I got to use three different types of saws, and I am ridiculously proud of that fact), and worked at a food pantry in the back of a thrift store, which involved chatting with some of the local people and hearing some great stories from a man named Montee about his adventures in the Congo. 

·         Cultural Immersion – We got a few chances to get to know the locals, once at a community dinner at the farm and once at a service at the River of Life Church…we even got to play kickball (or be like me and cheer for kickball) afterwards! 

·         Bucket Showers – Exactly what it sounds like.  Showering in a wooden stall outside by dumping cups of water into a hanging bucket with holes cut in the bottom.  We were allowed one indoor shower and one outdoor shower, but I opted for a double outdoor shower…how often do you get the chance to shower under the stars?

                I love Kansas City and I’m glad to be back with friends, but sitting here at my kitchen table listening to cars drive by outside, I really wish that the only sound I could hear was the crackle of the woodstove and an Appalachian breeze. 

Rockhurst, Loyola Chicago, Boston College, and the B. Farms Caretakers

Wearin' Flannel.

Rockin' Bandanas.

Bein' Hawks.

2:00 am Meditations on Cura Personalis

            Today I described to one of my professors, Dr. Prentiss, a few of the many many things I am involved in, because he wanted to know why in the world I was up until all hours of the night getting things done so often. 

            “You should take up meditating,” he told me.  This isn’t exactly meditating, but it’s in the neighborhood. 

            I’m Catholic, so I dutifully went without meat today (I went to a nice dinner with the Visiting Scholars Committee and got a plate of vegetables…my mother would be beyond proud), and still have some smudges of ashes on my forehead.  But now it is 2:00 am, and my roommates and I agreed that since we began our fast after midnight last night, we were in the clear to break our fast after midnight tonight.  So I am sitting at my kitchen table, up to my elbows in Pauline theology, but faithfully accompanied by some Ben and Jerry’s Chunky Monkey (how college girl cliché is that?). 

            I took a break from the huge project my friend Andy and I are working on, which basically involves paraphrasing and writing footnotes to the entire book of Galatians, in order to pull my sugary companion out of the fridge.  My roommate Liz, who is slogging away at invertebrate zoology, sensed the presence of chocolate in the kitchen and came over to join me.  We just leaned against the counter and dug around the walnuts for a bit, and then we started talking about our Lenten resolutions. 

            I got a really good idea for how to approach Lent from my CLC leader.  She suggested coming up with an overall goal for Lent, then adding something and giving up something to help you work towards that goal.  I’m into overarching themes, so I really like this idea.  My overall goal: Cura Personalis.  Cura personalis is one of Rockhurst’s core values and means care of the whole person.  I love this.  I am sure I have referenced it before, but I firmly believe that if ever there was a philosophy to live by, this would be it.  However, I still haven’t nailed down exactly what I want to do to achieve this goal.  I know I want to add daily mass once a week and a Lenten prayer book, but the giving up is a little more amorphous at this point—it was going to be no sweets, but the Chunky Monkey isn’t helping that, though I think I will do something related to physical health. 

            I haven’t been getting a ton of sleep this week, I am absolutely lost on my Galatians translation, and I’m about four days behind on writing this post, but as I was leaning against the counter with Liz, she said, “This is a nice moment.”  And it was.  Chunky Monkey, homework stress, lack of sleep and all, and a little moment like that soothed my soul more than anything this week.  Cura Personalis.  In whatever odd ways it comes. 

What Elizabeth and I Look Like When We Have Too Much To Do

(Or when we are pretending to be zombies on Halloween freshman year)

Books and Nooks

            Obviously, as a college student, I spend quite a bit of time studying, and I am absolutely incapable of staying in one spot to study at all times.  My roommate Elizabeth can sit in the exact same spot on her bed every day and be productive, but that would drive me stir crazy.  So I do a lot of rotating, and because of that I like to consider myself a bit of a connoisseur of excellent study spots both on and off campus.  So I present to you a selection of my favorites, and the best times to inhabit them:

1.      The Honors Room.  Join the honors program just for this—couches, tables, and brightly painted furniture tucked in a room with a lot of windows right in Sedgwick.  I hit this place up after morning classes so I don’t even have to leave the building.  And maybe I’ve taken a nap or two on one of those couches…

2.      Rock Room.  This is a tricky spot to maneuver.  It is in our main building, Massman (think student union), so you’re bound to run into EVERYONE you know there.  But if I grab an orange and put in some headphones, my favorite booth there is a good place to enjoy some morning productivity without quite locking myself away.

3.      Library.  If only for the windows.  If you’ve got a couple of hours to kill in the afternoon, posting up in a chair by the third floor windows with a view if St. Francis Church is the best way to do it—sit there in the fall when the leaves are beautiful and you’ll never want to leave. 

4.      Conway Classroom.  This is the big guns.  Normally at night I like to do homework at my kitchen table, or sometimes I will head to the library if there is someone else there to study with, but a classroom in Conway, the business building, is where I go if I need to get some serious work done.  This is a test-tomorrow-cover-the-whiteboard-with-notes kind of location.  You sometimes have to call security to get them to unlock the door for you, but it is worth it if you’re going to be working until 3:00 am.  And they have a computer with speakers and a projector, so you can blast your Pandora station while clicking through an Art History PowerPoint. 

5.      KC Public Library.  This is where I am right now, and it’s the perfect weekend location.  Every time my parents have visited Kansas City since my freshman year, my mom has always told me that I should study at this library, because it has a solid wall of windows overlooking the plaza.  I wish I had followed that advice sooner than this year.  I’m looking out the windows right now (the only obstacle to getting things done here) and seeing nothing but bright blue sky and the towers and balconies of the Spanish-style plaza architecture.  My friend Emily and I have a book-filled but sunny afternoon ahead of us, and if we top it off with a late lunch and a little more work at the plaza Panera (for the record, I’m from St. Louis, so I’ll always call it Bread Co.), the whole homeworking on a Saturday business doesn’t seem too daunting. 

Here is a map of campus if you want to check out any of the locations I mentioned: http://www.rockhurst.edu/campus-map/

That little corner of windows is where I am currently sitting!

The Cupboard at the Top of the Stairs   

I have an office.  Technically it is on loan to me for a while, and technically I share it, but for now I have my very own key and full use of said office.  I secretly love telling people about it, because it makes me feel all grown up, like even if I never figure out what the heck I am doing after graduation, at least I can say I had an office at one point in my life. 

            The office that I like to claim as my own is the Rockhurst Review office, and if we are really being honest and technical, it is more of a closet.  The office is on the second floor of Sedgwick, the humanities building (where I pretty much live).  I never knew it was there until recently; its door is right at the top of the stairs, and I always just assumed it was a storage closet (and like I said, for all intents and purposes it might as well be, since it is stacked floor to ceiling with books and journals).  But when I took over as Co-Editor-in-Chief of the Rockhurst Review last year, I got my very own key and that little closet became half mine. 

            There are three things at Rockhurst besides schoolwork that I have pretty much sold my soul to (or at least all of my sleep and free time): CLC (Christian Living Communities), Alpha Sigma Alpha, and the Rockhurst Review.  The Rockhurst Review is Rockhurst’s nationally recognized literary magazine.  We have one magazine, Infectus, which showcases student work, but the Review accepts submissions from all over the country and is a real—albeit small—literary journal, graciously funded and run by Dr. P.C. Miller, an English professor (and one of my favorite people to chat with).  Freshman year I started helping with the magazine as a junior editor by reading submissions and giving my opinion as to whether or not they should make it into the publication.  I loved it.  I never really knew what I was going to read—a beautiful short story about a prison guard or an “incredibly true” Bigfoot story—but I knew that if I could someday find a job someday doing work like this (actually getting paid to read!) I couldn’t ask for anything more in a career.  So I’ve stuck with it, and I got an office out of the deal this year. 

Friday afternoons are my favorite time to sit in the office.  I usually go there after work and meetings and catch up on reading and organizing submissions.  There is a narrow window that looks over a little courtyard (affectionately dubbed “The Secret Garden” by some friends of mine), and the whole places smells perfectly like books.  There are shelves with old editions of the journal dating back to the 80s completely covering one wall, and the English Honors society occasionally uses the office for storage before their book sale, so it is a little cramped, but I have just enough room to squeeze behind a battered old desk with piles of submissions stacked around me and get some work done.  Listening to music (and dancing a little because that’s the beauty of having an office to which only two people have a key), shuffling through folders, and cracking a window to breathe in a little fresh air mixed with old paper smell, I thank my lucky stars that I found my own little corner of Rockhurst (literally) and that it’s given me a little better picture of what I want to do someday. 


Link to Rockhurst Review information: http://www.rockhurst.edu/center-arts-letters/rockhurst-review/