Steam... Not Smoke

I was having a difficult time focusing today, so I went to campus early to review French culture for my French Conversation final and get plenty of hours in for Contemporary Mexican History (for which I was feeling very unprepared). Earlier this week has been real chill, with study breaks finding me at Genie Oil Change and eating Funny's Yogurt pretending its still Tofuti. So I felt real productive with my two days off.

As my eyes began to water to clear out the stinging sensation, I realized as I was exiting Genesee that the terribleness hanging in the air was in fact coming from beneath my hood. I talked my little '92 Paseo into the parking lot, popped the hood and found my engine bathing in coolant. Craked radiator. It was steam, not smoke... I guess that's a bit better. Perhaps its like when they tell you its better to break your ankle than tear the tendons? Both suck.

Dad was awesome enough to just happen to be down by me and I only missed out on like three hours of study time. But you know what? It worked out fine. I chatted away with my French professor about the trials of my day, why everyone assumes Parisians sont mechant, sans chaleur and such. Then in my History class I only had to start guessing after nailing over 60% of the exam, with solid B's on all my other work in there that I really didn't put much effort into I can't fail. I am graduating.

Between pep talks aimed at my car making it over Mount Solidad without overheating I was thinking. I was looking at the pile of stones in my brain with a sign sticking up that reads UCSD.

There's the one that reminds me of when I was ten, on my way to surf La Jolla Shores with my family and telling my mom that's where I was going to college. She replied with what seemed like a challenge at the time, "well, good luck with that".

Another stone brings me back to my room in Clairmont, calling the admissions office and informing them there had been a mistake, "I am supposed to be in your school". I was put on hold and God told me to pray, I was on my face pleading, commanding and claiming into the carpet for what seemed like forever until she picked up... explaining the inexplicable, that all systems said I was in and my multiple forms of communications from UCSD telling me I was rejected must have been a hiccup... "welcome to UCSD".

Or when I wondered if it is cheating when God tells you the answers, or praying with Lou Engle for my campus, or dancing on the snake head with Darla, or realizing I love what I am studying, or understanding the correlation between what lessons my profs were teaching me and those God was teaching me, or passing my classes despite being hit by malaria and a semi truck in the same month...

I could rummage through this pile all night. But I won't cause I have to work at the coffee shop at 5:30am cause that's one of the millions of things you can do with a degree!

I Wish I May, I Wish I Might

Thirteen days until I have a degree in my hands and am legitimate by much of the world's standards... and today I feel like just not doing it anymore. What if I don't turn in this paper that is due in an hour and seven minutes? What if I don't send an apologetic email with it attached and just stop now. That would be silly, yes. However, I am writing this paper on Tina Modotti and Frida Kahlo so I am feeling like everything is silly.

I can do this though. I just have been doing it for so long that the idea of not having to anymore is a bit more daunting than anticipated and I am glad to be waitressing on the boardwalk in Mission Beach instead of starting an internship in a cold place like D.C. or New York. Though every time I get hit on by a sloshed frat kid the thought of skipping town does ring clear in my ear.

Speaking of such nonsense, I am officially announcing that I am planning on skipping town (gasp). Not right away though. I miss my San Diego summers, my studio (converted laundry room) is four blocks from six decent surf breaks, a ten block skate to work and June gloom should be set to leave mid month. I'm waitressing now and will pick up another job when I graduate in two weeks...

... then in October, my dear friend Darla is set to marry her fiance, Vivek. I get to cruise out to India for the reception and will travel a bit to places we didn't get to see last time we were out there. I'll hit up Europe on my way out and Hong Kong on my way back (India's so far away it doesn't matter how you get there). So, providing I keep my living expenses down, I should be ready to go come the end of October. Hopefully Laurel will be joining me and hopefully it will be as rad as it is right now in my brain.

Fifty-eight minutes till my paper is due. That's not going to happen. I guess an apologetic email is in store. Oh well, I at least know I'll pass the class and I get to learn about radical women in the mean time which has always been a joy for me.