Not Dead...

Just so you know, I'm not dead. I didn't forget the URL or password for my blog. In fact, I've drafted two different posts in the last two weeks, but decided not to post either one. I've been in a bit of an emotional upheaval preparing for, traveling to, participating in, and returning home from commissioning interviews. Once I can shape that upheaval into a coherent narrative, I'll post it. Probably once I hear and come to grips with the outcome of the interviews. Until then, well, patience is a virtue.

Daddy's Girl

Yesterday I went to my first-ever NHL game. As an Avalanche fan, I wasn't particularly interested in the teams we were watching, but I enjoyed the game nonetheless. As I sat in the nosebleed section, my eyes glued to the ice, I remembered all the games I had watched on TV. I remembered sitting on the couch in the family room, watching jersey-and-skate-clad giants whizzing over the ice. I alternated between calling advice to the players and tossing questions at my Dad, who sat nearby in the recliner.

I learned to watch sports from my Dad. That's why I follow teams like the Denver Broncos, the Colorado Avalanche, and the Chicago Cubs, even though I've never lived in Colorado or Illinois. Dad would watch sports while he wrote lesson plans and graded exams. I'd watch too, just to be with him. He'd explain the rules, talk about the players' backgrounds, and tell stories of the great games he'd watched as a kid. I learned about "The Drive", "The Fumble", and the Art Modell Curse. I watched players heft the Stanley Cup and learned to dislike the Raiders and the Red Wings. I rushed home from church on Sundays to watch Sunday NFL Countdown. I was even rocked to sleep watching baseball games on mute, my Dad urging me to, "Watch the gall bame" until my eyelids drooped.

Now I watch games on my own, and whenever I understand the penalty being called or the terminology being used, I'm thankful for the education Dad gave me.

Sick Day

I could tell the Dayquil haze was getting to me yesterday when I realized that there had been a question we were supposed to answer in our reflection papers. I had just written a paper without reference to a question. But I thought I was on the downward slope of this illness.

Then one of my friends, upon giving me a second glance said, "Wow, you really are sick, aren't you? I mean, you usually have an aura of energy, lots of enthusiasm and cheerfulness. Today it's just not there."

This morning, when I woke up with a really froggy voice and a runny nose again, I realized that I might have been wrong about that "downward slope" conclusion. I called the office to tell them I was staying home sick, the exchange went something like this:
M: Hello, office... this is M. How can I help you.
Me: Hi M. This is Lauren. I'm not going to come to work today.
M: *long pause* Oh, LAUREN. I thought you were a man for a second there.
Me: Yeah, I'm sick...

In case you ever wondered, it's difficult to read 18th century theology when you're on cold medicine. It's also difficult to take yourself seriously when you're sitting inside wearing a knit cap with a fuzzy yarn ball on top.

I just hope I didn't share these germs with anyone over the last few days. Take your vitamin C, people, and wash your hands!!!

Evolution of a Doodle

I have trouble sitting still for hours on end when I have long days of class. Over the years, I discovered that when I doodled, I actually paid better attention and engaged more with the class. So, I started with a highlighter and pen, and made something like this:



Soon I started to make use of all of the pens and highlighters in my backpack to create slightly more complex doodles:



Then I began to try using Sharpies and colored pens, which looked like this:



Finally, two things gave me new inspiration. One was a classmate who brought coloring books and colored pencils to unwind between classes. I started bringing colored pencils and incorporating them in my old doodling scheme. Then I remembered some of the things I used to draw when I was a kid, using colored lines to fill in shapes. That was when I started creating doodles like this:



So, after 7 years of higher education, I've learned to follow my learning style and weaknesses to create something that's actually sort of pretty. My tuition dollars at work, folks.