Friday Five: Can You Hear Me Now?
1. Who is your mobile phone provider, and how many minutes are in your plan? Cingular. I really have no idea how many minutes I get. My parents are still letting me piggyback on their family plan, so I just talk. I used to spend hours talking to Greg, and we have rollover, and I rarely call anyone anyway, so I never worry about my minutes. My parents are so awesome sometimes.
2. What program do you primarily use for instant messaging? AIM. Even the older version of Yahoo!Messenger was better, but everyone uses AIM, and I'm a lemming more than I'd like to admit.
3. Who do you send and receive text messages from most? No one, really. I used to text Greg at least twenty times a day, but now I rarely text. It's kind of sad, because the only reason I have the phone I do (which flips open to a full keyboard) is my former passion for texting.
4. What area code do you live in? 301. (Misread that as "zip code" at first.)
5. What year did you first get an e-mail address and do you still use it? Umm... I'm going to say 1996. We got the Internet about two years before we left Japan, so that's probably it. It was a Hotmail account, with my full name as the username. I abandoned it when we moved, since we didn't have the Internet in Germany (for all three years; how inconceivable (
Princess Bride!) now).
This week was pretty busy. I was only busy with studying, though, of course. Maura and I went to Mass with Rebecca and ran into Jimmy and Tom there. We three girls ate together afterward. Maura got all sentimental as she and I were walking to the Chapel. We've been to Mass together before; this time we just left from the same room. But Maura gets excited like that a lot. Let's hope it's contagious.
I had an interesting comm class on Monday. Our reading assignment was the chapter on nonverbal communication. When we got to class, we rearranged the desks into two rows, with two desks facing each other going down the row. The people on the right were Stayers; on the right, Movers. I was a Mover. Our teacher ("Art") handed out slips of paper face-down with words written on the other side. He told us, "Your task is to get the other person to guess your word. The only rule is that there is
no talking." Then he set us to it, and hilarity ensued. The guy across from me in my first pair guessed my word wrong, but I didn't understand that he thought he'd gotten mine. His word was impossible. So the Movers kept moving, the Stayers stayed, and people got more creative as the exercise went on. Some people had really easy words. The other Lindsay had "wall," highly convenient as she was sitting next to one. One guy had "color." I didn't get "book," and almost got "loneliness." My word was "tired," which I had great fun acting out. The "biggest, whitest guy in the class" got "racism." He drew a picture of cars in a race, then once I'd gotten "race," he pointed to the second drawing. It was adorable once I understood later: Two stick figures, one shaded, with a "GRR!" going from the plain stick figure to the shaded one.
After we regrouped, our teacher asked, "Why didn't you just show your cards?" We were immediately speechless. He'd been very clear that the
only rule was no talking. We'd drawn pictures, written clues, mimed. One guy cheated by looking ahead to the next Mover so he could get the clue sooner. I still say that by giving the cards out face-down, he established a schema of secrecy. Despite our denseness, I actually had fun in class.
I went to Adele's with Hana, Megha, Rebecca, and Andrew Tuesday night. Megha and Hana had mentioned an Adele's earlier in the week, but hadn't mentioned a time, so I left a note in my away message when I went to go study. Hana had IMed, telling me to meet the girls there at 5; it was 5 when I got the messaged. Andrew had also IMed, saying he was interested in going. I tried to call Hana, but I got her voicemail, so I called Megha. I told Megha about Andrew, simultaneously asking Andrew if he wanted to go. Then Megha's phone broke up, so I waited for her to call back. She called back, and I told Andrew to meet us all there, but before I could finalize that, Maura called from outside the building. She'd forgotten her card and needed me to let her in. So, I shoved on my flip-flops, put up a different away message, charged down the stairs to let Maura in, and scooted over to the Union. So many people have never wanted to talk to me at once. I felt strangely popular, in a "nerd amongst nerds" sort of way. But after being so frazzled, I was rewarded with friends and food. Our burgers were undercooked, but the fries were yummy as usual. It was an evening well spent.
Sign Language Club started back up on Wednesday night. It was good to see everyone again. Age took a sign language class over the summer; she's the Education Officer now. My partner for introductions was named Roshan. He's a so-called super senior. I still feel a little weird about SLC meetings. I don't really know ASL, not even enough to really have a conversation. It's not like Spanish class, where you can speak English when the teacher's not paying attention, as long as you sprinkle Spanish in there. It's kind of obvious if you're speaking, period, when you're supposed to be signing. It's just... SLC is my one thing. In high school, It's Ac was my thing, and I loved it. But I was good at that. I basically suck at Sign Language. I would just go join MAQT (think It's Ac for UMD), but it's a bigger time commitment. And I think they meet on Thursdays, which wouldn't work because my ARHU section's slot is until 6:30 on Thursdays. And if I got to compete, they travel on weekends. Not good for my studying. Or church, depending on when the competitions are.
Oh, ARHU. How I loathe thee. Except Buffy class; that was pretty cool. In a nutshell, it makes me feel dumb. That doesn't happen often. Our first reading assignment was Hermann Hesse's
Glass Bead Game. We were supposed to have it for class last week, but only about four people in both sections managed it, so Tanya gave us another week. I was halfway through it last week. I
almost finished it for this week; I had one and a half lives left. (As Dan pointed out at dinner tonight, that sounds like a video game.) Once again, much of the discussion flew over my head. Is there something wrong with me, or is everyone else just really good at theory of the humanities (or whatever it is we're supposed to be studying in that class)? Andy totally gets it all, but he's so well-read on all those theorists, it makes sense. Maggie's good at those discussions too, but I can always understand her points better than Andy's. I really hope this semester doesn't turn out like last fall. I don't know if I can go through that again. I try, I really do. It was only by the grace of God (and I mean that) that I managed to completely understand the articles when it was my week to present. I do like HH, but is suffering through another theory-laden ARHU semester worth it?
My Thursdays have a big gap: ENGL 301 gets out at 10:45, and then ARHU starts at 4. So, to fill the time, I study, go to church, and do my laundry. I'd always wanted to go to a midday Mass, but I hadn't had time since I went back to Church. So now that I have the time, I go. This week, the CSC held its first ever
Misa en español. Of course they'd have it on a Thursday, the one weekday Mass I attend. (If I don't keep having to read for ARHU during my spare hour on Tuesdays, I might be able to swing it then, too.) I thought it was supposed to be next week, and I'd meant to get there before the rosary started, so I was all flustered when I first came in. The other girl in the pew (who was there last week, too -- I should ask for her name next time) handed me a cheat sheet, though, so I managed to successfully say the response end of several Hail Marys (or rather,
Dios te salve Marías). The girl and I shared a side-by-side copy of the Order of the Mass, but I was still mostly lost. It was interesting, though.
That makes me think. Is that what Latin Mass was like pre-Vatican II? (Before the Second Vatican Council in the 1960's, Mass was always in Latin; now it's usually "in the vernacular," in the local language.) Did people just give the right response when it came along, or did they just say the right words, or did they understand? Was it a shock to be able to speak English and suddenly realize what they'd been saying the whole time? Were the readings in Latin? I come across a lot of apologetics on the Internet now, and one of the anti-Catholic arguments they usually list is against Latin Mass, because of a verse somewhere about not preaching to people in languages they don't understand. Personally, I think it'd be cool to go to a Latin Mass. Having been to a Mass I didn't really understand, the concept is slightly less cool now, but still.
As I was eating lunch today, my ENGL 202 teacher from last semester randomly sat down at my table. (When I sit alone at those big round tables in South Campus, I always expect one or two other single people to "join" me.) I didn't think she recognized me, but she figured it out before she left.
After I got back from class, I spent some time fighting with my new Switchfoot CD. I took a break to trek down to BookHolders. I had to pick up a check and two books I'd requested back. It was a long, hot walk. On the way to Route 1, I could hear the marching band practicing. I almost wish I had a football ticket -- they're playing music from the score of
The Incredibles! It sounded really good. I could barely contain my excitement. I was getting really sweaty, though, so it wasn't too hard. I finally won my fight with the Switchfoot files after I got back (
which you can read about in my LJ), then went to the South Campus Diner with Dan.
This morning, Danielle told me she was having a Halfway to St. Patrick's Day party (yeah, I know), but I definitely didn't want to go by myself, and everyone else was already out. I might go to see Sara's play tomorrow, since I don't want to be stuck in all weekend. I also could use a trip to Target, and maybe Old Navy for jeans.
I'm going to watch
Joan and eat some M&M's now.
