This trumped Junot Diaz

I still haven't posted about Junot Diaz coming to Miami, and I might get around to it eventually. Just a forewarning, it is 2:30 in the morning so this post is very awkwardly written. I'm attempting to embody what this experience meant to me, and I'm always terrible at that. Good thing I'm an English Major right? At least I'm not in creative writing. I'll probably revise the post a million times just because I'm obsessive like that. And this will probably be a long post as well. Anyway, onward.

I went to a new church today. It was the first time I've been to church in Oxford. Luke needed to attend a gospel music event of some sort for a class, and his professor is the music director at the First Baptist Church of Oxford, so we went. I had many misgivings. For starters, I wasn't sure what Baptist meant in the title of the church. I mean, I know it has to do with baptism etc., but I'm not sure how Baptist churches tend to run their congregation. I'm still not sure I do, but it doesn't seem to matter in the end. 

I am also always a little nervous at attending a new church because I'm never sure how everything is run, and I'm just always a little uncomfortable. This turned out to be an unnecessary fear as luke and I met a middle aged woman in the parking lot who guided us through the service. She was so friendly and understanding and sat right behind us giving us guidance on what was going on when without us even asking. If we ever had any questions all we had to do was turn around to look at her and she would whisper a comforting explanation, or smile and say something encouraging. I can't express in words just how thankful I am for her and her warmth. I'm not sure we would have had the same experience if it were not for her. 

Then there is the nervousness in being the only white people in the church when I'm used to attending a predominantly white church. That didn't turn out to matter either. These people were so incredibly welcoming, so...... nice. Genuinely nice. There were no strings attached. I didn't feel as if they were nice to us so we would come back, to save our souls, or anything in between. There have been moments (not just in church but in all kind of different situations) that I've felt like people treated non-christians as potential notches on their Christianity belt. It's as if the whole "I'm taking as many people to heaven with me as I can when I die" idea turned into a personal trophy of self-righteousness rather than being about the people searching for something more. There was no hint of that feeling at this place. It's hard to explain, but it's exactly what I've always wished to find in a congregation. 

I will admit that I was nervous about going to church with Luke. I felt like I was presenting something that I care very deeply about for his interpretation and criticism. And I felt a little vulnerable in doing so. I know he has had some bad experiences with churches and what not. I've always gotten the impression that he's been somewhat afraid of churches. Maybe not fear in the usual sense, but perhaps a fear based on cynicism and a lack of trust. However, when we came out of there he was the first one saying "we're going back there again!". He picked up on the overall human quality that church possessed even more than I did. There was something so genuine in their humanity and in their faith that it moved both of us, although in very different ways.  At this point I'm really glad I never tried very hard to get him to go to Southbrook. I don't think it would have been what he was looking for, and maybe even put him off more just based on the incredible size of the place. 

I do love Charlie's sermons. Whether I agree with him or not, I do tend to come out of church critically thinking about something in my life I would not otherwise had thought to address. However, the sermon at the First Baptist Church was wonderful in its own right. It seemed fairly simple, yet profound. He preached about hope, strength, and having the faith in God that you can cast your burdens on him and everything will be okay. Maybe not immediately, but that's where the hope and strength bit came back in again. This was a very small church. I would guess that no more than 20-30 people were in the church, but that enabled them to focus a great deal on a sense of community. They had a cluster prayer to start where everyone came to the front (only if you wanted to) and prayed silently, but together. This happened again later on in the service. Then, half-way through the sermon everyone came to the front again and waved their palms together (palm sunday) while he continued the service. This intimate sense of community something that I feel like is missing in Southbrook. I'm not saying that this is intentional, but that the number of people attending has grown so large that it's impossible to have that same feeling. I'm actually impressed with the amount of intimacy Southbrook is able to create in spite of its size, but it is still nothing like the church I attended today. It's great that so many people are finding something they are looking for in Southbrook, but it's just a personal preference of mine. 

Then of course we come to the music. I've been telling my dad for a while now how much I wish that Southbrook would do a gospel number or two sometimes. The music at Southbrook never moves me. I feel like we're trying too much to be a rock band rather than helping people connect to God. Again, that's just me and my personal preferences. I love bare vocals in worship. Here was just a piano and singing. It was simple, yet complex, and absolutely beautiful. And alive. I certainly plan on going back for the rest of this year, although I'm not sure I'll continue to attend next year by myself, but I guess we'll see.

Countdown to End of Semester

ENG 337:

1. Final
   

ENG 345:

1. Final

ENG 347

1. Final

ATH 265

1. Final

BOT 131

1. Final

All to be done in the month of April (except finals). So close yet so far.

Although Junot Diaz is coming to do a reading on April 4!!!!!!!!!! I'm really really really excited about that. So excited that I think I'll order another one of his books just so I can have him sign it. And I'm getting increasingly excited for my London trip/ feeling tons of anxiety over all the nuances I have to do in order to get there - forms, payments, planning..... well you all know.

Salman Rushdie

I GOT TO HEAR SALMAN RUSHDIE GIVE AN AMAZING LECTURE! Okay breathe, and end all caps.

I had to get that out. Sir Salman Rushdie visited the humble campus of Miami and gave an incredible speech on, well, I suppose it is a little difficult to boil down (I didn't take notes unfortunately) but Safety, fear, and the liberty humanity seems to be willing to sacrifice in the face of fear. All of these grander ideas were of course constantly paralleled back to the fear and danger he experienced in his own life after the release of The Satanic Verses around 1989/1990. These are some quotes stolen from Morgan's facebook (Who was awesome enough to write down these incredible quotes) Although I have realized that out of the context in which they were said lose a bit of their incredibleness. But believe me, you had to be there. 

"There is no such thing as Safety. There are only varying degrees of unsafety" 

"Fear permits our rulers to do things we wouldn't normally allow"

About the repercussions of the Satanic Verses -- "Had it not been not funny at all, it would have been quite funny"

"Then the excrement hit the ventilation system..."

"...Then later, when they were cleaning the excrement off of the ventilation system..."

About a comment made of a person condemning his book w/o reading it claiming one does not need to walk in a gutter to know what's in it: "I thought, 'good point... about gutters"

"Who should have power over the stories we tell each other? Who owns the story?"

"We all live in stories" [paraphrase] In an open society we have the right to tell, retell, change, and satirize the story. In a society that is not free, "someone else imposes the narrative"

"This almost makes one believe that there is a God -- but there isn't. Sorry."

"Writers' only loyalty is to their talent"

"I'm talking like I run a country -- I'm a novelist"

"To say you can't criticize an idea without being criticized for your criticism is to create a world where we are all dumb"

"Don't ask about the future. The present is hard enough to understand"

And just for the sake of my own memory, I'd like to point out that I came within feet of Sir Salman. As my dad and I were walking back to the car Rushdie came out of the back entrance of Hall auditorium right behind us. Dad and I had a mumbled debate on whether or not I should turn around and say something, but I chickened out. I couldn't see me walking backwards showering Rushdie with praise as turning out very well. I feel like it would go something like this: I'm awkwardly shuffling backwards to face Sir Salman while saying "Great lecture mister Rushdie, now not to act like a thirteen year old girl at an NSync concert, but could have your autograph please?" while simultaneously tripping over a parking block. 

Adventures in Babysitting.

I thought I'd try a story from my actual life. Luke's Aunt was going to be gone Saturday night and two of her animals need pills, plus for other reasons I later discovered thought it would be nice for them to have some company over night. She offered Luke the job - mainly because she deemed Luke slightly more responsible than Stacey, although I suspect it may be a favorite nephew-aunt sort of a situation. Anyway, Luke, myself, Stacey, and her friend were all supposed to stay over and help with the animals. Stacey and friend never showed up. We got a call nice and late saying that she wasn't coming. It was just Luke myself and the animals.

Did I mention there were five of them and a fairly small house? 

Seriously, three dogs, two cats, one Oakwood Cottage. We were outnumbered. Not to mention neither of us had ever dealt with that many animals at one time in such a confined space. It actually went extremely well. There was a small glass of tasty wine, almost an entire carton of ice cream between two people and some great shows on TV. Plus, we got to go out to Longhorn Steakhouse before we got to his Aunt's house as a treat and it was delicious. The animals were good but oh my god were they clingy. I don't do clingy. That's why I have cats.

There was a tiny dog (smaller than Bailey) named Daisy who ran around in a purple sweater that was actually quite cute. She ALWAYS had to be snuggling with somebody. "You're on the couch? Are you going to the couch? Can I come canicomecaniCOOOMMME?". If you picked her off your lap and set her on the floor she gave you this incredibly indignant look, and proceeded to hop right back on the couch. His Aunt warned us beforehand that Daisy will sleep with you. No matter what you do she will find a way to snuggle in bed. And of course she decided I was the best snuggler and we were officially best friends. So who do I feel hop onto bed at 3 in the morning even though the door was CLOSED? Daisy of course. She had snuck in while I was getting ready and hid underneath the bed until I was asleep along with the cat Josephine who played with the crap on the window ledge because I had mistakenly pulled the curtain down on the ledge she usually sleeps on. She was a bit upset.

Maddie was a Shelty, and she was the dog that had to follow you absolutely everywhere. "You're going to the bathroom? Don't worry I'll protect you". She was also a pacer. We were all sitting comfortably in the living room and it took Maddie 15 minutes to sit down. She wasn't the smartest dog but was still quite sweet. 

Sam (dog - looked like Lassy) and Snowy (the cat) were essentially maintenance free which was nice. Snowy was fun to play with and Sam just didn't want to be bothered. It helped me feel a little less outnumbered. 

Overall it was actually a nice evening, the house was gorgeous, and the pets were at the least entertaining. However, I will NEVER EVER have that many pets. Ever. Nope. Two is my limit thank you.

Lovely

"'You'll get over it ... ' it's the cliches that cause the trouble. To lose someone you love is to alter your life for ever. You don't get over it because 'it' is the person you loved. The pain stops, there are new people, but the gap never closes. How could it? The particularness of someone who mattered enough to grieve over is not made anodyne by death. This hole in my heart is the shape of you and no-one else can fit it. Why would I want them to?

I've thought a lot about death recently, the finality of it, the argument ending mid-air. One of us hadn't finished, why did the other go? And why without warning? Even death after long illness is without warning. The moment you had prepared for so carefully took you by storm. The troops broke through the window and snatched the body and the body is gone. The day before the Wednesday last, this time a year ago, you were here and now you're not. Why not? Death reduces us to the baffled logic of a small child. If yesterday why not today? And where are you?

Fragile creatures of a small blue planet, surrounded by light years of silent space. Do the dead find peace beyond the rattle of the world? What peace is there for us whose best love cannot return them even for a day? I raise my head to the door and think I will see you in the frame. I know it is your voice in the corridor but when I run outside the corridor is empty. There is nothing I can do that will make any difference. The last word was yours.

The fluttering in the stomach goes away and the dull waking pain. Sometimes I think of you and I feel giddy. Memory makes me lightheaded, drunk on champagne. All the things we did. And if anyone had said this was the price I would have agreed to pay it. That surprises me; that with the hurt and the mess comes a shaft of recognition. It was worth it. Love is worth it."

-Excerpt from Written on the Body by Jeanette Winterson

It doesn't particularly apply anywhere in my life at the moment but it is generally a beautifully written book and I thought this passage (at least the first paragraph) was particularly accurate and honest. A lot of the book is very romanticized, but I thought this was quite, well, honest. I had initially intended to only insert the first paragraph, but I thought the entire section was beautiful so I included it. Please excuse my indulgences.

Everything Starts Here

I'm in love! I'm in love! And I don't care who knows it! 

With a book of course. Julian Barnes is probably my new favorite author... in spite of the fact I've only read one of his books. Can anyone say post-modernism? Brilliant?

All of the above. Talking It Over by Julian Barnes.

Gone Completely

I deleted my grandmother from my phonebook last night. It's so strange how trivial a thing such as deleting a name from a contacts list can appear so monumental, especially when that person meant so much to you. That damn screen "Delete? Grandma" Yes or No. It makes you choose. Delete them from your life? Yes or No. There are no maybes. She already eliminated me from her life. She made that choice a year and  a half ago. Regardless of whether or not she has control over her state of mind, she certainly knows that she could seek help or treatment. She's choosing to do nothing. Not only has she remained passive in seeking treatment, but has angrily rejected anyone who offers her help. Thus, in my mind she has chosen to "delete" me and the rest of the people who love her. 

The only way I would talk to her is if I called her. I've called her twice since this all started and each call has reduced me to hysterics and then weighed on my mind for weeks. Now I can't call her anymore. I will never speak to her again. That's what made me pause for so long. I literally stared at that damn screen for at least five minutes. I couldn't make myself hit the button because I knew that once I did there would be no possibility of me speaking to her ever again. Of course, I could always get her number from my parents but I won't. I needed this closure, and now I have it. I only have two grandparents now.