the semester in review

Dr. Jackson told me that when you get a Ph.D, it's like you've climbed to the top of a mountain. You're there: you know what there is to know. Then you take a couple more steps up, turn around and look out, and see thousands of other mountains yet to be scaled.

I don't have a Ph.D but I know what he means. I'm at the top of a mountain right now.

I learned crazy amounts this semester. I learned that wife-beaters are shirts, not belts. I learned that you can fold bedsheets like American flags. I learned that I can function quite well on 5 hours of sleep. I learned that I can do a heck of a lot more than I think I can, and that sometimes endurance is all you need when deadlines fly into your face and go plaid.

I learned that nothing is too marvelous for God to do, and that if I pray about something, he will rush to help. During the summer, his strength allowed me to a mile in under two hours. This year, his strength allowed me to forgive someone in under two years--a much greater feat for someone like me.

I hit on Marine recruiters, and they know my name now.

I learned how to be a woman. I learned that knitting and football are irrelevant to my femininity, and there's no reason to get caught up trying to figure out whether it's okay that I don't enjoy shoe shopping. I learned that being a woman is a stupid reason not to snow sumo.

I live with my woman friends now, not down the street but down the hall. And I love them. I've never been good at having woman friends but I'm getting better at it. I want to have woman friends now, which is important. C. S. Lewis was wrong when he said friendship must be "about" something (e.g., stamp collecting). I have friends who knit and they can talk about knitting but knitting isn't the basis of their friendship. I have friends who love languages and we can lament together that English doesn't have an ablative, but language isn't the basis of our friendship. We don't need a common interest to have a friendship. We need to love each other and goof off. That's all. Most of what strengthened my woman-friendships were things like barging into each other's rooms, tattooing each other's arms with less-than-beautiful sayings, laughing about being half-dressed. The important thing was spending joyful time together, and it didn't really matter what we did.

I don't go out of my way to dress sloppily like I did last year.

I give hugs, and real hugs, not those lame side-hugs. Physical affection between friends doesn't scare me anymore. I'm willing to admit that the "I don't like people touching me" I spewed last year was a lie. (Don't tickle me, though.)

I danced.

My instinct still wonders what the attractive male two tables away thinks of what I'm wearing, but I now have a hand that can slap that instinct and tell it to shut up, because it's God's opinion that really matters.

I carry my own things, books and trumpet and such, not to show off my strength and not to spite the men who offer to carry them for me, but because they're my books and there's no reason I can't carry them myself.

I learned that people aren't as stupid as I tend to assume, at least proportionally. I'm just as dumb as everyone else, and there's probably a whole heck of a lot I'm completely oblivious to.

I have flaws, and there's no sense in getting frustrated over not being perfect. Virtue shields, but when virtue fails, there is mercy. I don't want people to think I don't have flaws, anyway, because when I find people who seem flawless, I usually don't like them.

I learned that showing off is utter nonsense. No matter what, no mere human can understand me as I am. I don't understand myself as I am, so who am I to know what to show off? Keep myself right with God. Then, everything will fall into place, and if it doesn't, I have him.

That's most important. I have him.