On Duty

As may or may not be obvious from the previous post, I spent my weekend at camp.

Dahlonega hasn't seen rain in weeks. The falls look naked.

 I went up to be on "Host Duty" for a couple retreat groups. I felt beyond cool romping around the holy dirt, being "the expert." Knowing every detail of every supply closet, hiking visitors all along the trails,  answering lunatic questions, feeling loved by other staff. 

My private accommodations were comical.

My sweet weekend ride and crib.

Moving into the presidential suite, also known as B8.

15 beds, 2 toilets, 2 showers, 3 sinks, 1 person.

 Every time I walked into my cabin (which was twice the entire weekend) I could not stop laughing. Also, a retreat group tried to move into my cabin when they were supposed to move into G8. They started settling in, but called me, confused that there was someone already living there. And I was like.... that's me. They were embarrassed but it was more funny than anything.

Pleasant Awkwarding

It's Saturday! A choice photo for your viewing:

Awkward photo opportunity today at camp.

Wait- I go to school?

I distinctly remember four years ago the thought crawling though my high school head, "I'm a junior now? Wowie zowie, I'm old!" 

Now classes have started up and I'm thinking the exact thought once again, but I'm hardly the same "old" person. The summer was a dream- doing what I love most, surrounded by the people I love most. Then two weeks of living at Agnes without classes was an adventure. I was so consumed with preparing for the class of 2015 to arrive that today hit me like a ton of bricks. Classes? Me? Homework? Moi? Nevertheless, I survived the day, rejoiced, and was glad in it.

Here's to hoping that the rest of the semester will be much like today– I didn't wear a special outfit or wake up extra early or eat a fancy breakfast because I already know all my professors and classmates. No one left to impress. I spent a good deal of time in the library, a great bit of time in the Math Learning Center, and a fun snippet of time with my Bible Study pals. All good, all learning, no stress. A beautiful time to grow. 

 


Story from today:
A typical Abstract Algebra textbook is expensive. So my kind and generous professor wrote his own text book for us. 151 pages to print, 351 homework problems assigned. So I went to the library to use the double-sided printers and asked the librarian which print station would be best to use and I explained my 151-page predicament. She didn't quite understand that my professor wrote the book himself and asked us to print it out because she started explaining to me copyright laws and that I can't print out a book. I smiled and thanked her, printed at the busiest print station, monopolized the three-hole-punch, and walked out carrying my freshly printed algebra book. She was startled.

The finished product: not your typical text book.

Sing, Shout, Sing

My entire life revolves around two places: Agnes Scott College and Camp Glisson. Both have long-running traditions of goofy singing paired with crazed dancing. I should investigate what this says about me- that I gravitate towards communities that enjoy being absolutely ridiculously out of control. Maybe it's nothing to over-analyze.

At Agnes, it's the Hub Sing which happens twice a year. 

Tonight's Hub Sing

We are a women's college. We have no shame. The majority of the upperclassmen are intoxicated. All of the alumnae are wasted. Yes, even the 75-year-old playing the piano. We sing plenty of politically incorrect songs that span the topics of death, prostitution, Noah's ark, and Black Cat. (Black Cat is another tradition I'll be writing about in a few weeks.)  I love that we've been able to reclaim so many depressing songs and turn them into a beloved tradition.

My favorite Hub Song is Running Bear, which ends with Running Bear and Little White Dove's inevitable deaths.

At Glisson, we have Singing on the Porch every evening after dinner, Amphitheatre every Sunday, and Celebration every Friday. We sing and dance often and with much gusto.

I stole this photo from the Glisson website.

The songs we sing at Glisson are equally goofy, but topics are rated G, including: Jesus, Moses, grace, forgiveness, jet planes, country roads, and the Boogaloo. No one is drunk, and children are hootin' and hollerin' along with us.

I don't want to pick favorites, but of course camp is more fun. I'd much prefer a button that instead says, "Ballin' on the Lord's side."

Celebrate Awkwardness

I am obviously not living up to my blog's standards of Wordy Kirby. This is certainly because I've been having the busiest week imaginable. Gearing up for freshman orientation, running all over campus filling in last details, being trained as an orientation leader, being re-trained as a math tutor... I need a nap. But the first-years all arrived, moved in, and seem to enjoy Agnes Scott.

Certainly more words will find their way to this blog once classes start and I'm able to use it as a form of procrastination.

This week has been filled with fantastically awkward situations- from meeting grouchy parents to being alone with ITS for too long to asking a professor to please hurry up and stop talking. Most were pleasantly awkward- just enough to keep my heart rat slightly raised. A few were painfully awkward- just enough to make my ears want to fall off. But I'm still here and my ears are still attached.

Awkward Photo Saturday:

That's not sweat; it's liquid diamonds.

Awkward Photo Saturday

I've always been fascinated by anything awkward. What makes a situation awkward and why does it have a negative connotation? Personally, I enjoy anything awkward; it fuels laughter and extinguishes pride. 

So lets celebrate awkwardness with a new tradition: 

Awkward Photo Saturday!

Tut tut, looks like rain.

Thank you for accepting me as a fool.

Home Sweet Rebekah

I've ventured back to the land of Agnes Scott-

where the squirrels are not afraid of people,

the 106-year-old porches are straight out of a movie,

and the air is feverish.

Very few people are back on campus, but I needed to move in early so I can go on an upcoming leadership retreat. Empty sidewalks, quiet student center, toothpaste-free sinks- it's all slightly eerie. I will not be venturing into any basements any time soon.

My roommate Paige and I are pleasantly shocked by the size of our room is. We're living in the same building as last year, Rebekah, but our room feels even nicer. They're not called "Dorms Like Palaces" for nothing.

As is plain to see, we have an enormous dance floor in the middle of our room. What better way to enter our third year of undergrad than dancing?

Life in Boxes

Packing is miserably therapeutic. I never exactly unpacked after spring semester, so these big purple boxes sitting in my parent' basement were still filled with nonsense from May. Diving through the purple bins, I was forced to face my pack rat tendencies head on. I filled two trash bags with wrinkled old papers, dried up craft supplies, and plenty of useless knickknacks. Sorting through my belongings, I also realized I washed my clothes with fabric softener for an entire semester. Better than nothing?

I accidentally exploded over two entire bedrooms at my parents' house, even though I'll be moving into half a dorm room.

 

I promise I'm not usually this messy!  

You know what they say:

"If it all fits in a Camry, you didn't over pack."