WAG - Recollections on a Rainy Day
Note: On a dreary day like this it’s easy for a writer to drift into moods of melancholy and expound on deep and thoughtful ideas that may also resemble purebred bull. Let the serious title trouble you not, nor the atypical wording of this opening paragraph – which will soon fade away like the rays of silver light – for this will be a simple retelling of today’s event emphasizing humor more than morose ponderings.
(We’ll try to cut down on needless alliteration too)
Okay. Here we go:
The temperatures hit the low 40s today around Columbia.
Lots of people complained that it was cold. Others complained about the complainers reminding them that it wasn’t October yet and that worse was to come. Those not included in the first two groups typically looked at the arguers, dismissed them with a shake of their head, and wished that they hadn’t left their winter wardrobe at home.
This was a scene often seen, repeated, and recounted throughout the day.
A minor cold front blew up and caught almost everyone off guard.
Well, it WAS in the papers, but a lot of Mizzou people have been ignoring the headlines since the KU loss. Such reminders, even of the truth (especially the truth), can be painful and remain so for a while.
This evening, bundled up in a blanket, I read, talked on the phone, and worked on homework. I didn’t make much progress in the last, though I am pledging to read a chapter in Strategic Communication before making it to bed, though some good was done in the others.
I finished reading Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman. It was a bit like a modern Alice in Wonderland about an unknown world that exists in the forgotten places beneath London. It was filled with wonderful characters (both heroes and villains were great [did you ever hear of a bad guy so twisted that he collects Ming dynasty vases – only to smash them and grind them into powder with his teeth? How wonderfully wicked]), imaginative scenes, and delightful humor. I read a chapter or two Sunday night. Yesterday I took some time and read it on the quad, but was getting so much into it I had to throw it in my closest to make sure I took time to study for an exam I took today (I did quite well, thank you).
Retrieving it this evening, I enjoyed the remaining twists, turns, betrayals, conclusion, and then the after-ending (where an obvious question that is rarely asked is raised and answered). What happens when the “Alice” character realizes that the world “beyond the looking glass” was much more appealing and exciting than the normal, logical world? I won’t say what happens next, but it all fit in quite well with the rest of the story
That was followed with talking with Jessie, where I found that most of the details are set for church tomorrow.
Recapping for those not familiar with the situation, or for those who realize how complicated it is and know they need a reminder:
Jessie, my girlfriend, is a foster kid who had been adopted by Bobby and Linda Wyatt (who were married 30 years before she divorced him for cheating on her three years ago). After a long reconciliation, the elder Wyatts are getting remarried after church service Wednesday night.
Note: I thought about leading this post with references of WEDDING TOMORROW or “So I was talking with my girlfriend about the engagement…,” but was scarred off by earlier comments by family members. Before meeting Jessie a few weeks ago, my Dad stated/asked, “Now there isn’t going to be any type of big surprises at this meeting, are there?”
After only a few months of dating (my parents visited the day of our 4-month anniversary), very few potential “surprises” came to mind and after squelching such ideas earlier I would hate for any hint of them to arise again.
They spent several hours decorating, and after several weeks of preparations, everything should be set for tomorrow (except flowers. They want them fresher than 48 hours old). For most members of the church, it was a secret until the Sunday night service. A few people knew and spread the knowledge to trustworthy people (I’ve been sitting on this one for a while), but largely it was a surprise to the church – though not totally unexpected.
Anyway, we talked until the phone went dead – a common occurrence in a house with 14 people. The phone recharger doesn’t get much of a chance to do its work.
That turned out to be for the best. Before I could return my phone to my charger, I heard the sound of an Indian war whoop soon followed by the pounding of feet. Ah yes… crazy residents.
I slowed them down, had nice talks about “running in the hallways” and “chasing friends” and “not sitting on people who don’t want to be sat on.” You know, the usual.
I don’t feel like I got a lot done this evening, but I’m happy, I have more fun memories, and I didn’t have to wax poetically about rain drops um… dropping of … leafy um… leaves.
Forget the poetry. This rambling, disjointed, flow-of-consciousness rant has come to an end.
Homework awaits me (and I bet you thought I’d forget that, Mom)!
Goodnight.
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