525,600 Minutes

It was too cold to be half nekkid yesterday. Sorry friends.

Actually, I have been on the go for the past two days, and had no time for baring my flesh to cyberspace. Now, however, I have a ton of material. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the longest post I have ever conceived of.

Yesterday morning I left my house just before 10:00 a.m. I had to make a trip to the Fellowship headquarters. I got there at around 12:20, and the only reason I had to go all the way there was to drop off some important papers in a timely fashion. (Monday morning I have an interview regarding this summer's internship; if all goes well, I will spend two months in Venice.) Director surprised me by asking, "Are you in a hurry? Want to grab some lunch?" Now, I was in fact in a serious hurry because I had to rush back in time to take a test. But, this was Director. She's my hero. I was not about to say no.

She took me to a sweet little restaurant nearby where we had soup and salads and discussed all kinds of things. She wanted to know what questions I have about Venice, what my graduate school/career plans are, what is going on in school right now, how my family is getting along. It was one of the most wonderful lunches I have ever had. I have idolized this woman since I first entered the program. She was appointed to a presidential administration (years ago, not Dubya), has been the president of a college, and currently serves on the boards of several significant organizations, foundations and charities. She is Wonder Woman of the professional world. I have had opportunities to speak with her before, obviously, but never one-on-one for an entire hour. It was my privilege.

I took the two hour trip back home, witnessing an interesting scene on the bus. It was December 1st, and there was a sign above the seats in the front with a picture of Rosa Parks on a bus. The sign stated that December 1, 2005 was the 50th anniversary of her arrest, and in honor of this, it asked passengers to please reserve those seats in front. The bus was packed to capacity, with people practically in the driver's lap. A young African-American man said to the bus driver, "Mr. Bus Driver, may I have that poster?" He asked several times, and finally he explained his reason for wanting it: "If nobody's going to follow the rules, it might as well not be up there." The bus driver said that it wasn't up to him, and the man angrily exited the bus, evidently offended by the lack of respect for Ms. Parks' day.

I got home, changed into my work uniform, drove off to school, took an Italian test that I hadn't studied nearly enough for (I translated "sofa" into "la sofa," which is apparently not the way you say it at all), sat through class, then went to work (as an Ambassador on campus) for a couple of hours. We were having a lecture and book signing by an author. She spoke on the cost of war. I worked the table and sold copies of her book (sold about 25 of them). It was a lovely experience. All kinds of former hippie baby boomers came out of the woodwork. I kept envisioning what they must have looked like and been like when they were young. Maybe she met him in college, where one day she walked across campus and heard someone rasping Dylan tunes, accompanied by his guitar. One couple that represented a local peace organization shared the table with me. We were introduced, and the husband said to me, "So what do you do here?" I said, "I help at various events. Basically, whatever needs to be done, I do." Later on in the evening he asked if I was a student there, and what I was studying. He asked, "So, do you get credit for being helpful?" I smiled and said, "No, I get paid for being helpful." He clapped his hands, rocked back on his heels and tilted his head back as he laughed. Everyone I met was so nice. The professor who organized the event let me have a free copy of the book, and the author signed it for me.

I was quite tired last night, but had to be up early today to work again. Another event was being held. A lot of important people came, and my job was to stand by the door in my uniformed t-shirt and greet people. The problem was, it was freezing. Not cold, freezing. Each time the door opened I wanted to cry. The various people overseeing the event sympathetically commented on my plight. I wished they would assign me elsewhere, but they did not. Apparently it's very important to have someone smile at you and say "Good morning" when you walk in the door. Can't have an event without a hypothermic smiler, of course not.

Eventually I got to go work the coat room with another Ambassador. We talked for a while, and that helped to pass the time. We shared mutual disdain for/amusement towards a certain Phys. Ed. professor who's a hard-ass but quite funny. We found that we had similar fears about when he broke out the body fat measurement devices because we're both chunkmeisters. We talked about our majors, our relationships, our families. It was pretty fun. I love getting paid for stuff like this. It's basically meeting and helping people, that's all it is.

I then had class, and afterwards, a sojourn in the HC lounge with Mr. Dirty Jokes, where he told me dirty jokes and we recited lines from "A Hard Day's Night." Good times. Then more class. Then a trip to two bookstores, just to torture myself by not allowing myself to buy. I finally found the astrology book on relationships, though. I have been looking for that for months! For some reason, no bookstores had it anymore. I thought it went out of print. I wanted to look up Boyfriend and I in it because I had looked up Ex and I when we were going out, and it was frighteningly accurate. It said, "He has no time for you. He treats you like crap. He's an asshole." (Okay, it's not verbatim, but that was the gist of it.) But Boyfriend's and mine was not accurate at all. It said that we have a cutthroat type of relationship, overly ambitious and would step over each other to get to the top. Ooookay.

I am really fucking up my diet. Boyfriend and I were supposed to support each other through it, but (*in my best Sally voice*) he's too wishy washy! I tell him I had cookies for breakfast and he says, "Good." (Guess what? He will be here in two weeks!! Best holiday present I could ever receive.)

Me so tired. I have a seminar early in the morning tomorrow. *Shrieks and pulls out hair* Buona notte i miei amici.