First-Year Student Journals : Kristin : Journal 8

Kristin's miniature straw box that looks like the White House

Kristin wears her sunglasses while hanging out on campus

Kristin | Profile | Reflections | Journals: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

I will believe in the power of humanity to achieve great things when humans are able to control the weather. The Human Genome project is an impressive feat. However, I maintain my belief in the gods until humans can figure out the weather.

Rain, snow, sun—I am continuously amazed by the power of events that I cannot control to control my moods, work ethic and general agreeability. It all started with the rain. It kept coming and it kept annoying me. Unprepared, thinking it would not affect me, I ventured out this past week to only slightly ominous skies only to find myself defenseless against deluges when leaving classes. Soaked to my foundational garments, I decided to qualm my irritability with naps, much like any respectable feline. I curled up in bed and had strange visions. Naps are addictive. The minute one indulges in one the more sleep one wants.

Then the cold came. Cold does not annoy me. I look good in winter wear and am not predisposed to being cold. I gulped down warm beverages and gobbled up warm food and almost felt stereotypically college-like, almost as if I were in a movie. After all, aren’t we college kids supposed to be shivering, hungry beings subsisting on caffeine and donning our school sweatshirts? The cold also made me feel more academic. Suddenly I wanted to read stimulating books, to stay inside and do my work and to discuss grand ideas. In other words, I felt authentically academic.

I was somewhat confused on Friday morning. Wetness and cold had collided, making the world seem unlivable and depressing. I walked to my 8 a.m. biology class dressed for rain. Yet, there was no rain. Droplets of something were hitting my jacket, but it wasn’t rain. I was confused. Kristin the South Texas child still has much to learn. I had never experienced frozen precipitation. The little droplets were tiny pieces of ice pelting me from the sky. Lovely. I went to the warm cocoon of my room and absorbed my books and sipped tea, still being very academic.

Friday night I was exhausted and lazy. I did my laundry and devoted myself to selfish tasks—poetry writing, reading and organizing my dresser and closet. Spent by 11 p.m., I went to bed and resolved to rise with the sun and atone for my sloth. Two hours blissfully went by of quiet, restful sleep. “And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow’s eye, Steal me awhile from mine own company,” and with Shakespeare’s words I put to rest the annoyances of the day.

The screaming began at 1 a.m. I remember it distinctly because at first I was certain masses of people were dying or that the Apocalypse had arrived and I was asleep for it (and therefore, doomed to rot in perdition). Stumbling out of bed, slowly gaining consciousness I heard shrill utterances of, “Oh my God, it’s snowing. Hey look it’s snowing.” I turned on a lamp and fetched a coat still harboring disbelief in my skeptical, rational soul.

If the ethics of genetic engineering have the power to divide us, then weather has the strange capacity to unite humans. More than 50 of us at Whitis Court congregated in the frigid air, lacking appropriate attire to play in the miracle of the snow. We ate the snow, pelted each other with it, idolized it, slip down the street on it, covered ourselves and others with it and talked about it. Tempting bronchial infections, pneumonia and the flu, we played in it for an hour and a half. Thankfully, college has not taken the child-like love for shenanigans out of most of us yet. Snow is a once-a-year event—numb hands and wet hair, aside.

I experienced the same classes and people and tasks this past week, and in many respects, the same joys and annoyances. However, I did notice my ability to appreciate and handle certain things was influenced by the weather and the moods it inspired. Many ancient mythological systems recognize an all-powerful, ultimate sky-god rendering punishment and rewards in the form of weather events. I saw realities change, morphing from a landscape of despair (nasty rain) to a landscape of wonder (icy beauty of the early morning). I also learned that in order to appreciate every reward, every punishment (classes, annoyances, inclement weather) from the sky god must be taken in with good faith.

Send questions and comments to kristinrochelle@yahoo.com.



	Kristin \| Profile \| Reflections \| Journals: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 Home
	I will believe in the power of humanity to achieve great things when humans are able to control the weather. The Human Genome project is an impressive feat. However, I maintain my belief in the gods until humans can figure out the weather. Rain, snow, sun—I am continuously amazed by the power of events that I cannot control to control my moods, work ethic and general agreeability. It all started with the rain. It kept coming and it kept annoying me. Unprepared, thinking it would not affect me, I ventured out this past week to only slightly ominous skies only to find myself defenseless against deluges when leaving classes. Soaked to my foundational garments, I decided to qualm my irritability with naps, much like any respectable feline. I curled up in bed and had strange visions. Naps are addictive. The minute one indulges in one the more sleep one wants. Then the cold came. Cold does not annoy me. I look good in winter wear and am not predisposed to being cold. I gulped down warm beverages and gobbled up warm food and almost felt stereotypically college-like, almost as if I were in a movie. After all, aren’t we college kids supposed to be shivering, hungry beings subsisting on caffeine and donning our school sweatshirts? The cold also made me feel more academic. Suddenly I wanted to read stimulating books, to stay inside and do my work and to discuss grand ideas. In other words, I felt authentically academic. I was somewhat confused on Friday morning. Wetness and cold had collided, making the world seem unlivable and depressing. I walked to my 8 a.m. biology class dressed for rain. Yet, there was no rain. Droplets of something were hitting my jacket, but it wasn’t rain. I was confused. Kristin the South Texas child still has much to learn. I had never experienced frozen precipitation. The little droplets were tiny pieces of ice pelting me from the sky. Lovely. I went to the warm cocoon of my room and absorbed my books and sipped tea, still being very academic. Friday night I was exhausted and lazy. I did my laundry and devoted myself to selfish tasks—poetry writing, reading and organizing my dresser and closet. Spent by 11 p.m., I went to bed and resolved to rise with the sun and atone for my sloth. Two hours blissfully went by of quiet, restful sleep. “And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow’s eye, Steal me awhile from mine own company,” and with Shakespeare’s words I put to rest the annoyances of the day. The screaming began at 1 a.m. I remember it distinctly because at first I was certain masses of people were dying or that the Apocalypse had arrived and I was asleep for it (and therefore, doomed to rot in perdition). Stumbling out of bed, slowly gaining consciousness I heard shrill utterances of, “Oh my God, it’s snowing. Hey look it’s snowing.” I turned on a lamp and fetched a coat still harboring disbelief in my skeptical, rational soul. If the ethics of genetic engineering have the power to divide us, then weather has the strange capacity to unite humans. More than 50 of us at Whitis Court congregated in the frigid air, lacking appropriate attire to play in the miracle of the snow. We ate the snow, pelted each other with it, idolized it, slip down the street on it, covered ourselves and others with it and talked about it. Tempting bronchial infections, pneumonia and the flu, we played in it for an hour and a half. Thankfully, college has not taken the child-like love for shenanigans out of most of us yet. Snow is a once-a-year event—numb hands and wet hair, aside. I experienced the same classes and people and tasks this past week, and in many respects, the same joys and annoyances. However, I did notice my ability to appreciate and handle certain things was influenced by the weather and the moods it inspired. Many ancient mythological systems recognize an all-powerful, ultimate sky-god rendering punishment and rewards in the form of weather events. I saw realities change, morphing from a landscape of despair (nasty rain) to a landscape of wonder (icy beauty of the early morning). I also learned that in order to appreciate every reward, every punishment (classes, annoyances, inclement weather) from the sky god must be taken in with good faith. Send questions and comments to kristinrochelle@yahoo.com.