Sunday, March 16, 2003

So I'm sitting in a computer lab in Mendel Science Hall here at Villanova University, working on an assignment that just won't seem to materialize, and listening to a lot of music. Coincidentally, much of the music I'm listening to is reminiscent of my freshman year of college - Parachutes by Coldplay, Blue by Third Eye Blind, Almost Here by Unbelieveable Truth, etc. It's got me thinking about what these albums meant when they were new to me, when this school, these buildings, these people were new to me. I'm at the sunset of this chapter in my life and I'm seeing where the events of the past four years fall into who I am. The end of college is something many don't want to think about, afraid to admit that it's over, sad things won't be the same. And it's true, things won't be the same, but they will be new and amazing in ways unthinkable. As a senior in high school I knew none of the people I would meet in college, knew little of Philadelphia and the Main Line, had rarely taken trains, had flown alone only a few times, and my sense of self was prematurely defined. I like my life so much more every year, so who's to say it won't continue to get better?

A wave of serenity washed over me yesterday. I spent much of the afternoon in the Starbucks across the street finishing Catch-22. It's an incredible book full of pain, longing, misery, brutality, insanity, nonsense, hysteria, dark comedy, hilarity, and great hope. While I read, I occupied two worlds. One in which I was there with the characters in the book, in Italy during World War II, and the other in Wayne, Pennsylvania where I felt like a stationary rock at the bottom of a stream as customers came and went, cars passed by on the street, and the sun shifted west all afternoon. In between chapters I would pretend to read while watching people peripherally or stare at them for five unknown seconds. These people around me were amazing. I created stories about where they had come from and where they were going. One man who looked particularly boring as he walked in, sat down near me and had a book called "A Photographer's Guide to the Internet." Suddenly I felt ashamed for labeling him boring because of some involuntary, conditioned response to how he appears. This man was a photographer and I imagined him driving away to capture the impending sunset, and I knew that this man had passion. There was a middle aged Indian couple sitting near me for quite a while as well. They were speaking in their native language and I had no clue as to what they were speaking about, but there was a moment where the round-faced woman smiled at the pock-faced man and it was evident that they were deeply in love. For that instant her soul was wrapped around him and anyone familiar with the unspoken language of love could see it clearly. At that same table, a younger couple had been sitting a few hours before. They spoke only a few words and exchanged far-off glances of self-imposed distraction coupled with topic-avoiding coffee drinking. Anyone who has had a post break-up meeting could see how much they didn't want to be there, yet needed to...there were things that needed to be said, and perhaps those things were said before I got there because they left not long after I sat down. There was an older woman who came in later with long blonde hair and a demeanor that said "artsy, loving grandmother who still paints, still writes, still remembers what it felt like to want to be older." These people were my setting, and with the afteroon sun casting shadows on the street, I was in an incredibly special place. Ironic that it was in Starbucks, the multi-national corporate giant that they are, killing off mom and pop coffee stores like no tomorrow and possibly contributing to the poverty of coffee growing nations by unevenly distributing the wealth.....but it goes to show that amazing things and amazing people can inhabit anywhere you go.

Now here's the part where I get pissed. I just wrote a long ass paragraph about the 8.5 mile run that Tim and I did yesterday and the majesty of the sun setting and visiting people along the way and having this really cool discussion about life and love and then wrote another paragraph about watching the Great Mouse Detective and cleaning my room and going to the anti-war candlelight vigil tonight and Topher's intramural basketball championship and the beauty of a trip to Philadelphia for a Pat's cheesesteak with a Cherry Pepsi - how it's really all you need for a good evening. BUT, that all got erased by this craptacular lab computer. But oh well. At least it wasn't all lost. That would have made me go medieval on this computer.