Sunday, August 28, 2005

I'm officially old

So this won't be a long post because it's hot back here in the computer room again. I thought we were done with the heat but it's returned with a vengeance. Which stinks because, as is usually the case when I finish a quarter (you students will relate), I've come down terribly sick.

Wednesday was my last Pentateuch class, and it was wonderful, as they all were. I'm writing a series of monologues from the non-voiced women (and a few of the voiced but maybe their words were twisted) in the Genesis stories. I'll probably do Miriam, too, since I've got a running start on her. I'll post them on here if I like them. My intent is to make them for churches, although they will be academic and have footnotes and won't be for the ignorant. My teacher said not to think of writing for churches because I'd dumb them down. And I said Ha! I'm Episcopalian! I don't ever dumb down for my people!

Anyway, Thursday morning I woke up with a sore throat, and I should have paid heed. I went Thursday night to sing for the Taize service here in town, and by the end of four hours of singing I was completely raw. Fisherman's Friend was the only thing allowing me to go on, but even then, I was shredding my vocal chords and I knew it.

So I woke up Friday determined to go on vocal rest (which, from this blog alone, you can probably tell was an impossible dream). I did spend several hours quietly reading in the library, many many books about my women in preparation for their monologues. *ugh - there's a hot breeze blowing on me - that is most unpleasant* Oh, and I also went and cancelled Fuller's silly insurance and determined to get my own coverage, which they were fine with, so that's a relief. I'll be without for a month - but I would have been under Fuller's plan anyway, so c'est la vie.

Anyway after the library we came home and by this point I could barely function. Oh, back up, I have to give a shout out to whoever is Ron Rienstra's friend from Grand Rapids who reads the blog. Ron figured out it was me - he was right when he suggested to you that it might be. Peace!

Okay, so I probably made a fabulous impression on Ron and other people I met (although I secretly relish the pleasure of not being able to walk across or sit on my campus without having to talk to at least 2-3 people - it means, yikes, I actually have friends!!) because I was not coherent. My head felt like a spinning top on fire. So I came home and pulled out the couch bed and laid in front of the a/c unit. Temp was 100.1, which is quite high for me. Bemoaning the loss of a day of work when I only have a few more left before I leave on a trip to Iowa for two weeks (and all my assignments for this quarter have to be in before I go), I slept the rest of the afternoon.

But yesterday, you see, was a long-planned trip to Disneyland with two of our best friends and I was determined not to miss that. So, very doped up, I hit the park. And I mostly did okay, although it was miserably hot and humid and we all were soaked through with that sticky heat. YUCK! And thus we reach the title of this tome, which is my oldness, evidenced by the scary, scary fact that I didn't enjoy Disneyland all that much. Huh? What is up with that? But it's true. I was barely interested in most of it. Now of course that could be due to the sickness, but really, I think I'm actually too old to enjoy rides any more - fast or slow, any kind really. It got better towards the end of the day: I really liked Splash Mountain (the one time all day when I felt a comfortable coolness all over me) and I did have fun on Indiana Jones. But the rest were just...eh. Not so much with the fun.

Which upsets me, because Disneyland has always been my fun heroin, the thing I can take a shot of and feel instantly happy. And now it's not doing it for me any more. *sigh* What will be next? Shopping? (oh, wait, that already sucks because I have the spending guilt)

I will say to those of you who are considering visiting the park for the 50th anniversary year, it's definitely worth it. It's all pimped out and several rides have new things on them and there's a great little exhibit full of old maps and tickets and concept art and a giant model of the park as it looked on opening day. Plus the fireworks show is actually the best I've seen. Both of the boys in our group said it was absolutely their favorite thing of the day and worth the price of admission (at a steep 50 bucks, that's saying something). Of course, there was liberal use of fire and lasers. It was indeed a work of art, and I do not say that lightly.

But now I am a person who is grumpy at Disneyland because it's too hot and much too crowded and there's way too many screaming children (man, that place is great birth control!) and the rides are only passable fun and the food's expensive and not that great and it's all mostly just inconvenient. Plus we also spent much of our time in line discussing fascinating topics such as the housing bubble, our retirement portfolios, our friend's house purchase....need I continue?

OK, heat officially getting to me (sickness is kicking my ass for yesterday's adventures). Must go lie down and try to continue reading (although it's amazing how much that tires one out). I'm reading "Beholding the Glory" edited by Jeremy Begbie *sigh* what a great book.

Later I'll tell you about the fun of choosing classes but it's not all decided yet so I'm stopping now.

4 comments:

Alcuin Bramerton said...

On the subject of non-voiced women, a traditional Norfolk koan comes to mind:


She is becoming seriously ill.
She is suffering
From an overdose of religion
And an underdose of spirituality.

The symptoms are manifest,
But a cure is available.

The symptoms are palpitations,
Sweating and nausea,
Rashes on the soul,
Marrow-deep boredom,
Dogma,
Exclusive truth-claims,
Out-of-date scriptures,
Phoney salvation theories,
Guilt
And dreadful tea
In plastic cups
Whose plastic tastes stronger
Than the tea within.

The cure is available,
But difficult.

She must close her mouth to priests.
She must drink less plastic.
She must get out more.
She must stay in less.
She must face the fresh air.
She must begin to breathe.

Church is a man-machine
Which suffocates.

For the sake of her health
She must leave church behind
And face the fresh air
Of freedom
Without fear.

She goes into the garden
And turns a cartwheel.

The playful process
Of becoming well
Begins.

Rachel said...

I hope you will post what you are writing in the voices of Biblical women. In my community we call this kind of exegetical enterprise midrash, and it's one of my favorite things. :-)

The Feminarian said...

I know about midrash - been reading a lot of it in preparation for writing these. It's intimidating, though. Feels like all of these stories have already been told, and better than I can do it. But at this point I'm pretty committed to the idea. I just have to find a way to make it original and interesting

GPS said...

Trust me--being sick means NO FUN. Been whitewater rafting with pneumonia and two ear infections and wondered, "Where's the thrill?", but when I was well