A little heartbreak.

So.  I know it's been a long time since I've written, and I've let a lot of opportunities slide by to catch the nitty-gritty of my temper tantrums about returning to the States.  To be brutally honest, it hasn't been particularly pretty.  Interim at Calvin was rough for me, in lots of ways, the most painful probably being that it was really humbling to be reminded that no matter how much I've experienced, I still don't know everything.  Duh... but seriously, that hurts to relearn.  I could go on about interim, and maybe I will later, but first I want to talk about the two things that are much more raw: the first day of second semester and this infernal blizzard.

We started second semester on Monday.  I'm excited about the courses I'm taking, and it's nice to settle into a routine, but I noticed something disturbing this week that I hadn't seen yet upon returning.  I was walking towards the science building on the way to developmental psychology, when it suddenly dawned on me how strange the scene around me was.  There we were, hundreds (or thousands) of college students, each marching rapidly towards an individual destination.  Many of us were on cell phones, chatting or texting as we walked, oblivious to the people around us.  Some of us walked in pairs, couples hand-in-hand or friends talking happily about the weekend's exploits.  But we were all pretty oblivious.  It was kinda disturbing, actually--like a whole herd of independently-programmed robots, each of us charting our own course, we sped off to our first day in a new semester, eager to... be on time, or something.

Suddenly I felt really, really alone.  There were people everywhere, but no one seemed to be paying attention to anyone else.  Noses in our planners, we bustled apart to find our next class, not pausing to notice the sun on the snow or the girl walking up the stairs behind us.  People greeted each other, of course, but rarely--if ever--did any of us stop to actually hear how the other was doing.  Wrapped up in the neat little worlds of academic accomplishment, we marched on.

It's funny to hear myself writing this, because for a long, long time I was very content (and highly successful) in that world.  I don't know what happened in Romania, but something has changed.  I still want to learn, don't get me wrong--in fact, my appetite for real learning has probably increased.  But I'm just not interested in playing the games and jumping through the hoops anymore.  Maybe I'm wrong to be so dramatic.  Maybe that's all it is: I'm being dramatic.  I know some of it's just a reaction, a swinging to the opposite extreme out of frustration with the individualistic, appearance-oriented, frantically-fast pace of American culture.  But maybe some of it merits attention.  I don't want my life to be characterized by chaos anymore.  (Let's be honest and admit that that's really what a lot of college is: carefully-managed busy chaos.)  Sigh.  Maybe this post is just venting.  So be it.  Sorry if it offends.  I hope it at least provides food for thought.

So today--the day of the Big Blizzard, the first snow day Calvin College has seen in a few decades--was a mixed blessing.  On the one hand, it was a way to force us to stop and slow down.  On the other hand, it's preventing Julie, Tad, Zach, Marit, and Kadie from coming to Calvin tomorrow for the Faith and International Development Conference, and that makes me want to cry.  Sometimes I just need to be reminded that I'm not crazy...

Wow, what a downer of a post.  Sorry!  I promise I'm not really this gloomy all the time; I'm just disappointed right now.  And apparently I felt the need to blog about it... ha, I see some irony in this individualistic pursuit...