7.19.02

Yeah, so my last entry said I’d update ‘tomorrow’.  It’s not ‘tomorrow,’ but it is today, so bite me.  I had a bunch of stuff to cover, and I might as well just dive right in.  Bold is quoted from my last entry.

*First and foremost, I need to write about the NSLC program I attended at Stanford.  I have lots of paper journals that I will probably transcribe, and lots of pictures to scan, both so they can see them and you, the reader can.  I'll be talking about this program for a very long time, I think.

Of course, since I’m a slacker, I don’t have my journals or pictures readable yet…except for this one, which says a whole lot about how my week went anyway.

I won’t give the breakdown of the camp and everything, because I don’t think anyone really cares.  The important thing to know is that it was two things: a) a leadership conference and b) a law camp.  The whole thing was about leadership, but it had a mock trial theme, and that was what we spent our time doing when we weren’t engaged in hokey leadership exercises.

Okay, so maybe some of they weren’t that hokey.  One night we spent upwards of an hour taking turns at the mic talking about what we’d learned through the camp.  That was cool until we realized that everyone was saying the exact same thing.  It was touching, sure, but eh.

The one thing that was moving about that was a guy named Gideon who got up and talked about Chron’s disease.  He has it; he was misdiagnosed (and thus in considerable pain) until he was twelve.  He’s dedicated a significant part of his life in the last six years to increasing awareness about the disease, including writing a resolution for Congress to get a stamp made about it.  I admit that I have no idea what exactly Chron’s disease is, but I’m amazed at Gid’s perseverance and his entire attitude towards life.  He told us that when he tells people he’s sick, he usually gets pity.  And he kind of hates that, because he considers his disease a gift.  It’s something that he can work through, something that motivates him, and something that he can work to educate other people about.  It made him stronger; it gave him a purpose.  His half-hour speech was touching and wonderful…he is an amazing and strong person, and I really admire him.

I guess admiration was a theme of the week.  One not-so-hokey leadership thing was a game called ‘Over The Line’, wherein we taped a huge line down the middle of Tri-Delt (the common-area frat house), and Tony, the program director, would read statements, such as ‘I am female,’ ‘I am from the South,’ or ‘I have a significant other.’  If you agreed with the statement, you crossed the line.  If you disagreed, you stayed where you were.  If you were ambivalent or not sure, you stood on the line.  Then you turned to face the people on the other side of the line.

Sound nuts?  It was done in total silence.  And I think that was what made it.  I mean, we were talking about some serious stuff by the end of the night.  We’d read a series, then sit and talk about it and submit our own questions.  Those were read, then we talked about it and wrote more questions.  By the third round of our questions, I’d seen some amazing things happen.  First off, all of the normal jack-offs had either left or sobered up considerably; they were throwing people out for talking.  The exercise was carried out in stony silence, nothing but the shuffling of feet as people moved across the line and Tony’s voice over the speakers.  We didn’t have a chance to explain ourselves, to justify our movements and our stances.  We simply had to meet the eyes of the people who disagreed with us or, in some cases, had no idea where we were coming from.

The second round of questions were kind of thrillseeking, cheap shots.  ‘I have a girlfriend/boyfriend,’ ‘I have never been kissed,’ ‘I have made good friends at NSLC.’  By the third round, though, it was a no-holds-barred game of almost frightening proportions.  ‘I have been sexually abused,’ ‘I feel my parents love me,’ ‘I feel responsible for the death of a friend,’ ‘I had sex with someone who I later learned had an STD,’ ‘I have been attracted to members of the same sex.’  The people who crossed the line would look across the line at a much larger group of people who had no idea what they had gone through.  But if they looked to the left or right, they could see a handful of people who could, one some level, relate.  And that was the coolest thing, I think.  Maybe we never spoke to each other, but we met eyes, and realized that we were not alone.

Some people were in tears by the end of the game.  We all went back to our rooms thinking.  I walked out of there needing a hug.  Before we left, they sat us down and asked if we’d learned something new about people we’d made friends with since we’d been there.  Everyone raised their hands.  And then Tony posed the question: would we have been friends with them if we knew the things we did now?

Some people shook their heads.  I disagreed.  Learning what I did about Ryan and Gary and Tony and Carolyn and everyone else that played the whole game didn’t make me any less fond of any of them.  I simply looked at them and said ‘She’s truly a good person’ or ‘he’s an amazingly strong person.’  I suppose the goal of the game was to get us to think.  And it certainly did that.  Ask me about it in person sometime, and I’ll be able to give a much better description of what happened, just because it was the kind of thing that doesn’t translate to text well.

Anyway, other than ‘Over the Line’, we did a bunch of other things.  (No, Erin, really?)   Yep!  Like taking a trip to San Francisco, Santa Cruz boardwalk, and…er…yeah, so that was the extent of the trips.  But we yelled ‘boner’ a lot, and carried each other around, and ate creamsicles, and had wars with spices…the whole thing was a lot of fun, in retrospect.  Sure, the lectures were boring as sin, but such is the nature of classes in the middle of the summer when you’d rather be bonding.

And I think that was the most fascinating thing about the whole ordeal: the bonding that went on.  I mean, I could hear girls in the room above me sneaking out the last night there (presumably to be with boys they’d never see again).  I felt like I’d made some amazing friends there, and I’ve talked to several of them since I’ve been home, which served to strengthen those friendships. Yay.  I tried to talk myself into figuring out exactly what it was about this that made us such fast friends.  I attribute it to lots of things.  First off, we were all in the same boat: none of us knew anyone else.  We latched onto our trial groups as the only people we knew.  And we all had common ground.  Each of us was interested in our cases, bored by the lectures, and trying to figure out how to get around without our ubiquitous nametags.  I felt like I could sit with almost anyone at lunch and not be left out, not be ignored…because how did they know I wasn’t the kind of person they wanted to hang out with?  That was probably the best part.  Yeah, there were a few people that made snap judgments and cliqued off and fuck them.  But for the most part, everyone was glad to meet everyone else. 

So that’s that.  The mock trial went, I thought, really well.  Our judge told us it was one of the most professional mock trials he’d ever seen, and I was pleased about that.  One of the guys on my team – Ryan – did a spectacular job…he will make a great lawyer someday.  Or a great whatever he decides to be.  But then, so will everyone.  Each of us was there because we wanted to do something, so we did it.  We stuck it out to the end and didn’t give up just because we were bored and tired and there was a Plague spreading through the camp.  We stayed because of the people, but also because it was part of who we were – the kind of people that don’t want to admit defeat.

Oh, and I did karaoke.  It was fun.

Now that I’ve rambled for three pages about NSLC, I get to talk about everything else that’s been happening.  I took a trip to DC the Monday before I left to see American with mom.  I like the school, I think, tho not quite so much as I did Trinity.  Less grass.  But being so close to DC is, I think, a real plus.  I mean, just the internship opportunities alone are staggering.  We’ll see.

*What's been on my calendar other than a trip to California?  A few swim meets, a trip to DC and American University, an adventure at a day camp with Julie and in the subsequent thunderstorm, and the date I had right before I left.  

The day camp adventure with Julie really wasn’t that big of a deal, until the thunderstorm hit.  Me and Kitz and Katie parked our cars in a big, empty field and hung out until the kids were ready to go climb (we were there to belay.)  Shortly after we’d gotten ourselves, our metal gear, our ropes, and our thirty-foot-tower hooked inextricably together, it started to rain.  When I heard thunder, I didn’t even wait for the nod from our Moses-like director.  I let my kid down and untied myself from that lightening rod.  Since it was a humid day, we’d all left our windows down.  Thus, I took the keys and started off, still wearing my harness and metal gear, the half-mile-or-so hike to the cars.  In the rain.   And thunder.  About halfway there, I heard a solid ten-second crack and rumble of thunder that made me (almost) convert right then and there.  Instead I took off at a dead run towards the distant cars.  I rolled up the windows, climbed into my driver’s seat, and pulled out Punchline Fuck if I was going back out in the rain and thunder.  Julie eventually came by to tell me to go ahead and leave, so I did.  I got a little lost on the way home, but eh, such is life.

Swimming’s over now, except for Champs.  It was a pretty lousy season for me…I missed a lot of practices for work and being out of town and lazy, and now I’m paying for it because I’m gonna suck at Champs next Sunday.  My last meet was the only one that went really well…but I actually swam too well; I put myself into divisions that I can’t compete in at Champs.  So it’s going to be an adventure, to say the least.

Oh, and what about the date?  Nothing as big now as it was when I wrote the preview for this entry, I suppose.  Jeff and I went out to see Amelie while it was playing at the Byrd.  ($2 for a movie?  I’m there.)  We had a nice little chat about how I don’t really hate all males…I hate most of them, and the rest I don’t really trust.  Do I trust him?  We’ll see.  Probably not; it’s my cynic-defense mechanism kicking in again. 

*Clockwork Grace, and its members, who I've been seeing a bit of.  (Well, Allen and Stephen, anyway.)

Eh, this is a series of rants for another day.  I’m a little frustrated with a few things, but I feel like I can’t say anything because all the two of them do is kvetch about people who are frustrated.  Fine, I’ll keep my mouth shut and get high blood pressure.

Not that it matters much, anyway, since Stephen hasn’t really shown any interest in talking to me at all in the last couple of weeks, and Allen’s always busy.  I’ve called him a few times to climb, and he’s always had other things to do.  But at least he hasn’t directly ignored me.  I don’t like that much.

*Noah, who keeps urging me to update, (I think he just wants to see his name in print), and how he's the best shrink I've ever had. 

No, really, he is.  And, unfortunately (for him), someone else figured that out.  He’s been getting calls from a psycho whose name I shall omit, asking him about all manner of things that he really don’t want to hear about.  Heh.  Ah, well, he’s too nice of a guy to tell her to wank off, which is what I’d do.  Instead, he entertains her calls and then whines that she’s annoying.  He needs to learn that he can’t have it both ways. 

And speaking of Noah, here’s your update.  You’ve been bugging me about it for…oh…weeks, now.  I’ll be insightful later, I suppose.  I have some more days to chronicle…Carter’s lake on Wednesday and why I’m so sore, but I’m out to a goodbye party for David (really, sad.  I’ll cry, I bet…) and I don’t have time to add more.  So I’ll upload and promise to come back…eventually.

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