Sorry I’ve been quiet lately. Truthfully, there hasn’t been much to write about. I walk to campus in -40 degree windchill (yesterday). I try to save the world via student government (Monday). I play intramural volleyball (Tuesday).
(This afternoon) I make a mistake with my checking account and hold up the line at the grocery store for fifteen minutes while I fiddle with my online account via Iphone, transferring money to pay for my cereal and pears and peanut butter. And then the Chancellor of UMM, in line behind me, offers to pay for my groceries (“I don’t want anyone going hungry,” she says kindly). I am thankful to go to a school run by such generous people. But mostly, I am mortified. I finally get my credit card to work, and then I practically run home, sliding on the ice and torn between laughing and crying. I decide to laugh, because I am quite possibly the most ridiculous person on the planet. My mom laughs too when I call her, and I realize that perhaps the reason why I get into such scrapes is so I can tell people about them afterwards. It’s quite worth a little humiliation to have a good story to share.
And now (I assure you, having read the above, you’re quite caught up), I am sitting at a desk in Imholte Hall. I am at UMM’s literary magazine’s All Night Write. It’s a wondrous night in which students are locked in a large classroom with their laptops and various junk foods, and given permission to abandon scholarly pursuits in favor of creative writing. My gentleman caller is next to me. He’s given me permission to talk about him. He’s focused, and being very patient with me (I keep interrupting his work to make jokes, to proclaim my undying love for orange soda, etc.). I am here for the writing, yes, but let’s be honest: I’m mostly here for the socialization.