(originally written September 2, 2010)
It always manages to surprise me, how quick and seamless the transition back to the school world is. Summer seems like forever ago and I've chosen my topic for 4 different research papers this semester.
Welcome, Sadie.
Why thank you.
I say seamless. That probably isn't the best adjective. Fun, exciting, hilarious, adventurous, tiresome. Mostly. But seamless= not so much.
Noelle came last Thursday to hang out and get in some last bonding time before she, you know, gets a new roommate.
Oh yes, we celebrated that, too. By "we" I mean a bunch of us. Because we love Noelle and we are so thankful for the time to have been single with her. But we want her prepared for... not being single, if you will. I think we took care of that with a slew of new "outfits." And we even designed and modeled some of our own ensembles. There were some creative minds in the bunch. But mostly there were hearts that genuinely care for our sweet friend as she journeys into uncharted territory for all of us.
Then she had to leave to party on.
Meanwhile, back in FredVegas, I decided to fall back from adventures to Annapolis given that Arkie was acting weird.
Good thing, folks. Good. thing. Despite the fact that the car was acting slightly out of character, I agreed to help a couple of friends by following them to a relative's house, where they could drop off their cars to be serviced and I would drive them back to their house.
I said "I have nothing else to do this afternoon. Why not?!" (read: good thing I didn't have anything else to do....). (You're welcome for that small dose of dramatic foreshadowing).
So I get to the sketch driveway in Summerduck, Virginia (no lie). (and no, the AAA people didn't know where it was, either). (yes that was more dramatic foreshadowing). I put the car into park. Or I at least made the gear shift line up with the "P". Whether or not the car is actually in park is apparently relative these days. Imagine my surprise, then, when I took my foot off of the brake and the car goes, oh, about half a mile, before it clicks that something might be wrong. I'm that sharp. So I get my foot back on the brake about 2 seconds before rear-ending Chris's truck into the house/auto shop off of the unnamed road, which is off of the unnamed road, which is off of the unnamed road.
Thank God for emergency brakes.
No really, I did. Right then and there. Because that is how I roll. Pun intended. Come to think of it though, I don't know if it was right then. Right then I was trying to restart the car and was probably slightly distracted by that it wouldn't. Arkie wouldn't even try. That is when I started saying goodbye to my (no longer) faithful compadre. Once the car wouldn't start at all and was stuck in drive indefinitely and Chris was in the driver's seat-- that's when I said a small thank you for emergency brakes.
So we called AAA and went through 4 representatives because they couldn't understand why a girl from Little Rock would be in Summerduck, VA. Two things regarding this point. A. I've never once been treated like the move to VA was a step down from AR, so score Arkansas! (AR-1, VA-4,001) Don't get me wrong, I love them both, but Sarah Holljes, who is soon moving to the Natural State can attest, people usually rank the Commonwealth over the origin of WalMart. Ungrateful people. B. I, too, had no idea what I was doing in Summerduck.
While on hold with these truly trying to be of help people, I heard about 50 times that Justin Timberlake-- "that's right, Justin Timberlake!!"-- designs for Triple A apparel which you can find at "A. A. A. dot com." Exhilarating. I will do just that when I get back to civilization, thank you, recorded sales lady.
*September 24, 2010*
I started writing this story forever ago and have just now revisited the post. I still remember it all so vividly. It's just an out-of-body kind of experience when you're outside of civilization in the whacky parts of Virginia with people you don't really know that well and then they call up Dave the crazy tenant who shows up in his old truck on some rampage about how much Chris owed him for this because he was supposed to mow his Mother's lawn by sundown.
And then you can't find your phone. So you interrupt Dave's explosion to ask to look in your bag in the bed of the truck so you have it if, you know, something happened.
I don't care to dream what "something" might entail, but you can never know.
And then Dave starts talking about how feminism ruined his appetite because now women can't cook and then you get told you look like a person who could spare $40 anyway when that's the tow bill and you're hauling things like a Tivo and a sack of water bottles and sparkling grape juice (and Dave makes a comment along the lines of "you're probably a virgin, too, huh?") because you're not sure if you'll see you car after A and J Automotive gets done with it and you've emptied it's contents into the truck bed.
All of this while dressed to the nines for the Annapolis wedding shower I didn't end up going to because I sensed Arkie was done for. Heels and jewelry and all. Not exactly Summerduck style.
It's fine, though, because when I got home Claire was making us all dinner and we laughed over candlelight and talked through our first weeks of class, respectively, and committed ourselves to starting a fresh, new week.
And that's exactly what we did. (that was before I got a ticket once I got Arkie back because we'd used the temporary parking pass from the dashboard to write down the towing numbers and I left it with Chris and couldn't print out a new pass. What do you do but laugh?)
I was really glad it all happened, though.
A. Back in Peru, I helped pass out letters Chris and Lizzie wrote to the kids and watched as they beamed because their "future mom" and "future dad" cared about them. I made note in that moment that I really didn't know Chris and Lizzie that well and probably should because they use the money that they manage to save to physically visit these kids and when they don't have the money to write because they care. This was my chance. In a strange package.
B. There are awesome freshmen at the BCM this year. For some reason this is the first year that I've really considered what it was like to come to this place and not know a soul and have no real way of exploring the city around me (besides random journeys in Ruby). It's like I got a car and life took off and the opportunities were endless. I lost the connection to the days of wishing someone would offer a ride and then the amazing blessing it was to have people take an interest in the newcomers. So as I was meeting the new freshmen, my car was taken from underneath me and I was leveled with these awesome people and put in the place of humility where I always belonged.
C. I was re-acquainted with the blessing it is to have a Dad to call when my car is broken and I'm stranded (well, until Dave came to the rescue). First, just to hear his reassuring voice. Secondly, to know he'll do whatever he can to help. What did I do to get that? The answer isnothing. And so my mind wanders to the people who don't have that in life. The voice and the means to help from their dads. Then my mind has a talking-to with my heart and tells me to do something about it but the problem is I don't know and there are papers and tests and weddings and parties and family and fun to distract myself with until I remember that none of it is as satisfying a cause as actually taking Jesus and his commandments at His Word andhelping people.
D. Along those lines-- and despite the tone I take in this post to be humorous because reallywhat even happens in Summerduck, Virginia?-- my time in the rural parts and my interaction with people that Sunday reminded me that I am no better than Dave. The unnamed streets that AAA can't find are filled with people no less important to God than the people on College Ave. I am no more-- or less, for that matter-- loved by God for wearing a ruffly dress from Target and having an iPhone to call for help from a loving home.
So now I'm reunited with the striking young sportscar with wide hips and seats that hug you and reminded of things my busyness would've sped over.
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