On the Cusp

Tonight at dinner, we, rather, Halie and Eden, talked about what it's like to be in our twenties and learning how to define ourselves. I feel like that process has not yet begun for me. I feel like I haven't really examined my character yet, and thought about what parts I want to keep and which to discard, or who I really am, as an independent person and not as a reactionary force to one thing or another. I feel like I finally get to figure all this out when I graduate in May and get out on my own for the first time. It's way overdue, obviously. I'm excited, though; I feel untested in many ways. I can't wait to start looking for a real job, finally! Halie thinks I should be a copyeditor. I think that's a great idea, and I'll add it to my list of ideas for employment.

I'm doing so much research (for fun!) on the internet these days about international media organizations (and adding way too many links to my blogroll :-)) that I really want to focus on the "international arena" as Mr. Lawson says. He is so cute! He makes no attempt at all to match, in fact it wouldn't surprise me if he deliberately chooses outfits like the one he wore today: purple shirt, lime green and purple striped tie, with khaki pants and neutral toned corduroy blazer. Hee hee. Such a sweet man (or was it a lime green shirt?). I've translated an article about the Syrian economy for him from French and must fine-tune it a little before submitting it to him. It was really fun.

Yikes. And I must write my Ethiopia summary for class tomorrow and begin focusing on three news stories to comment on, plus the French paper, Lawson paper, and Letters papers that are all due on MONDAY. Time management is the key, and I get so anxious sometimes that I don't use my time well. I have almost no sense of humor these days, I'm working so hard on school stuff.

Let me include a short excerpt of an email from a friend who's currently in Iraq:

"The first rains of the season came upon us like a hammerstrike, the night before last. The air was calm until just after dark, when the storm front hit. It must have looked like a boiling wall of sand, lit by flashes of internal lightning. In the blink of an eye, it was upon us, the winds going 0-60, literally, in seconds. The wind howled in and out of our tent through tears that we didn't even know existed, and then through even more that the wind made itself. Dozens of tents were completely blown over, while ours just had the plastic rain fly blown off. The air inside was filled with a yellow haze of dust that the light barely penetrated, and the air outside choked the lungs and stung the eyes of anyone foolish enough to venture forth."

A demain! Bonne nuit!