Behind Infinity

Had a terrifying and utterly absurd dream around 6:00 this morning. In it, I was going to babysit for the TerHaars. (Never mind the fact that in real life, Dean & Sandra’s youngest child is 18 years old, and he’s away at college.) I was driving to their house down an utterly deserted dirt road (That’s Absurdity #2, because in reality, they live in the middle of suburban Wyoming.) when all of a sudden, every light in my car’s dash started flashing, an alarm started going off, and I heard Majel Barret’s voice (AKA the “Star Trek Computer Voice”) announce, “WARNING: Containment breach in fourteen minutes, sixty-five seconds.” (Absurdity #3. There is no such thing as sixty-five seconds, it ought to have been fifteen minutes and five seconds.) So I started crying, parked my car at the side of the road, and started running towards the TerHaars’ house. (I had the presence of mind to lock my car, though.) To get there, I had to struggle through a swamp. Finally I reached the TerHaars house and explained the situation (which of couse they didn’t see as anything strange or out of the ordinary). Dean and I were about to get in Micah’s car and see if he could fix mine (as if there’s much you can do when the containment field is about to breach!) when we heard this huge explosion and saw a puff of black smoke rise from the approximate location where my car had been parked. I screamed and then woke up. It took me a few seconds to remember what had happened and realize it was all just a dream. THAT was a relief.

The setting: The Classics Suite.
The scene: Conversation with Dr. F, a dear nice lady professor with a…unique…fashion sense.
The shoes: a pair of wholly impractical but sinfully comfortable and absolutely adorable black flat slippers embellished with lots of embroidery and sequins.
The socks: One orange and one grey. But they both have cats on them.

[Insert normal "hey how are you how's class"-style greetings here...]

Dr. F: “I like your shoes.”
Me: “Thanks. I do too.”
Dr. F: “I especially like the effect with the…different socks.”
Me: “Yeah, that’s become somewhat of a trademark. It started one week when I hadn’t had any laundry done…and sort of snowballed from there.”
Dr. F: “Oh yes, I do that too, except with my earrings. They’re always going down the shower drain and then I only have one left…”

Seriously. When I get so that my “don’t know or care how goofy I look” factor allows me to wear my ginormous dangly earrings mismatched, please put me out of my misery. For now I can pull off the sock thing as sort of cute and playful…I think. Although I’m pretty sure it drives my Mom crazy because she thinks it reflects on her as a bad mother or something for not matching my socks or teaching me how to dress properly. So this is my proclamation to the world: Mom does indeed match my socks, and she did indeed teach me how to dress. It’s just a phase I’m going through. Like how I refused to wear any pants except elastic-waisted leggings for most of my grade school years.

And just like that, in a few years I’ll probably look back on the mismatched socks, shake my head, and wonder, “WHAT was I thinking?!”

Until then, thanks for playing along and not rolling your eyes (visibly) whenever you catch a glimpse of my footwear. But shoot me if I start doing it with my earrings.

Tonight West Michigan had our first snowstorm since Mid-December. Amazing, eh? I can’t say I’ve minded the warm snap…but I like snow too. Right now the branches outside of my window are frosted in snow. They are SO PRETTY. Someday when I get a nice camera (after my tax return, hopefully…) I’ll be able to take pictures of things like this, even in the dark.

Anyway, I’m pretty sure most smart people were hunkered down in their houses, cozy and warm. Not my friends. Oh no. The Usual Suspects decided to brave the minor blizzard–which would have shut down an entire city, had it happened in say, Arkansas or Texas–and gather at The Usual Place (Tim & Lisa’s/Richmond Park) for glow-in-the-dark football in the snow and various other activities. Yes, I (reluctantly) participated in glow-in-the-dark football. My participation consisted of lots of running back and forth. I caught the ball once; but then I forgot to run because I was so elated that I caught it. Lisa and I built a snowman in her yard. He turned out very nice–nice and round and pudgy–because the snow was perfect for packing. (It was also perfect for throwing-style snowballs…Eric made and used a lot of those.) And of course, after playing in the snow, one must enjoy hot beverages and thaw out with a good argument–erm, I mean, a good game of Scattergories. (I still maintain that ’shoes’ ought to have counted for ‘Things that are Black’, and that sunglasses are sunglasses even if the lenses are orange, blue, red, or anything besides black.)

The highlight of my evening: As soon as I walked in the door, Jen announced to me that she’s going to have a baby. I have a friend who is pregnant AND married–I’d say it’s about time!

Just now, while I was doing my homework, the binding on my beloved Latin book split right at chapter 16. I almost cried. My poor little abused book.

……………

Today I had one of those “you know you’re a nerd” moments when a friend startled me as I was walking out to Neimeyer. As I walked I was thoroughly engrossed in Lynne Truss’ Eats, Shoots & Leaves: the Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation and eating my customary apple for lunch. (Devin, as he pulls a 4-course meal out of his backpack: “Don’t overeat, now…”) So thoroughly engrossed was I that I didn’t notice my friend following me until he grabbed the book from my hands, like Gaston does to Belle in Disney’s Beauty & the Beast. He squinched up his face as he read the title. “I don’t get it,” he said. I tried to explain myself…
and gave up.

PS thanks for the book recommendation, Suzanne.