Hindsight is 20/20

I’ve been staring at this blank page for some time now trying to decide just how to describe this past semester.  Several words come to mind:

-        Awful

-        The worst thing ever

-        Draining

-        Eye-opening

-        Magically delicious

Maybe not that last one.  But you get the idea.  Sophomore year has certainly been a mixed bag of experiences.  I will tell you one thing: the sophomore slump is so real.  And I have dived head-first into it. 

            You know, I originally signed up for this class thinking it was going to be about humor.  Instead, the only thing I’ve been laughing at this semester is my rapidly declining GPA (laughing to keep from crying, obviously).  But if there is one thing that I have truly taken away from the past few months, it is that nothing is going to be perfect.  Not everything can go according to plan.  But it usually all works itself out.

            A couple weeks ago, a group of friends and I made plans to have a big Christmas celebration to kick off the advent of finals.  We were going to drive to Dallas to go ice skating at the Galleria and take pictures with Santa.  We split up into two cars, and my friend Gus volunteered to drive me and my roommate, Allegra.  We got about 20 minutes into the journey when we started to realize that the car was noticeably shaking.  This was the moment that Gus decided to tell us that for the past week or so, he had a leaky tire that he had to pump air into every morning because he was too cheap to get a new one.  My roommate and I were horrified for obvious reasons, so we pulled off at the nearest exit into a 7-11 parking lot where we discovered that the tire was now completely flat.

            At this point, the other members of our convoy had already reached Dallas.  Allegra called them and explained the situation as Gus called AAA to get someone to tow his car.  Our other friends came by to pick up my roommate but I volunteered to stay with Gus because I wasn’t just going to leave him alone in this sketchy gas station parking lot.  Eventually the tow truck arrived and a wonderful man named D’Eric came to our rescue.  We had a good half hour car ride to the repair shop, so Gus and I got to know D’Eric pretty well.  And we loved him.  D’Eric is who I aspire to be when I grow up.  His attitude toward life just makes you feel like everything is going to be okay.  We couldn’t let him leave without taking a family picture.

            It was pretty late at night at this point, so the Dallas situation was not going to be happening.  Instead we decided to all go walk around Sundance Square.  Sometimes we can get so wrapped up in the idea of going somewhere exotic to have a good time (if you can really call Dallas “exotic”) that we forget about the beauty in your own backyard.  The Square during Christmastime is certainly a sight to be seen.  Though Santa left the second we got there (he definitely saw us coming), it was still a ton of fun to walk around and look at all the lights and merriment.  Allegra and I were super excited when we got some balloons, though our enthusiasm quickly waned when we realized that balloons on a windy day may be more trouble than they’re worth.  We accidentally assaulted several innocent passersby.  So sorry.

            But all in all, it was totally worth it.  We ended up having a blast, even though it wasn’t quite the night that we expected to have.  We all got into the Christmas spirit, Gus and I made an unlikely new friend, and my roommate got some prime Instagram pictures.  What more can you really ask for?

            You know what they say:  Man plans and god laughs.  I certainly didn’t plan on having such a tough semester, nor did I plan on making as many great memories, either.  I also didn’t plan on liking this class as much as I did in the end.  I met a ton of awesome people, and I think I found my true calling in the cinema business while making our final presentation video. (I’m only half joking about that one.) 

            Sometimes life doesn’t go according to plan. 

            But what would be the fun in that?

Where Are You, Christmas?

          Thanks a lot, global warming.  I was looking forward to going out to the Trinity to do some reflecting while bundled in my boots and winter coat, and instead I was in a t-shirt and flip flops in the heart of December.  Unacceptable. 

          After coming to terms with the weather, I started to walk along the river seeking inspiration.  I had driven by this part of the Trinity so many times, but I had never actually stopped by the park before.  To be honest, I’m not sure if I was really missing much.  The grass was a lovely shade of pea green and baby-food yellow.  Not that you could even tell, really, since the ground was almost completely covered by a blanket of dead leaves that enthusiastically crunched under my foot with every step. 

          There was a set of train tracks there which I suppose were still in use, though I saw no train going by while I was there.  There was also a little building beside the track that favored a ye olde railway station.  It was quaint.  I rather liked it. 

          As I walked along the river bank, I was reminded of a story that my dad told me one time.  When he would take walks along the river in the early mornings, he would spot a lot of baby turtles who had managed to come pretty far ashore, a long way from their aquatic homes.  He told me that he would pick them up and lay them gently back into the water.  I was horrified by this anecdote for several reasons.  First of all, I’m no marine biologist but I feel like turtles can probably harbor several diseases that would be harmful to humans.  You don’t know where that turtle has been, Dad.  Second of all, maybe it wanted to be that far ashore.  Maybe it was trying to get out there and see the world and go on adventures, and then here you go putting it back where it started, eliminating hours or even days of hard work.  If I were that turtle, I would be ticked.  My dad is probably infamous among a certain group of river-dwelling shelled reptiles for being the one who will completely reverse a hard day’s work within seconds of coming in contact.  I wouldn’t be surprised if there were turtle neighborhood watch programs that kept an eye out for him and warned their brethren on the shores that he was coming for them.  I can only hope that somewhere in the colony, a turtle Paul Revere spots my father and rides on the back of an otter into the turtle village shouting, “The giant is coming! The giant is coming!”

          But I digress.

          I really and truly wish that I was the kind of person who found inspiration while looking out into nature.   But I just don’t think I am.  While gazing out into the Trinity, all that I noticed was how dingy it looked, and how much trash was floating around in it, and how much prettier my river picture would be if there weren’t so many ugly buildings in the background.  I didn’t think I would ever say this, but it made me miss the Indiana landscape.  In my hometown (South Bend), we have the St. Joseph River.  (We’re right at its southernmost bend.  Get it?)  Honestly, it puts the Trinity to shame.  In terms of how terrible it is, of course.  My grandma always had a running joke whenever we would drive on a bridge that would pass over the river.  She would roll down all the windows and pretend she was a tour guide.  “If you look to your right, and look to your left, you will see the glorious St. Joseph River.  And if you take a big whiff in, you will smell the glorious St. Joseph River.”  Let me just add at this point that she was not saying it because it smelled good.

          But the reason that I was now a little homesick for this lovely picture that I have painted for you was that in the winter, it’s beautiful.  The naked trees are covered with a fluffy layer of white and you feel like you are literally walking in a winter wonderland.  I looked around me in Fort Worth and all I saw was death and decay.  Certainly not the icepocalypse of yesteryear.

          Just as I was about to give up on the Trinity, I spotted two jolly little otters playing in the river.  Well, I think they were otters.  It’s been a while since I updated my prescription.  But whatever they were, they were jolly.  They didn’t care what the temperature was, or how much sewage they were swimming in; they were just happy to be alive.

          As finals loom ever nearer, it can often feel like we are swimming (or drowning, as the case may be) in a river of sewage.  Maybe we can all take a lesson from those jovial little creatures and learn to appreciate all that life has to offer. 

          After all, even if a strange giant moves you back to the river after you worked so hard to move ashore, all you can do is start crawling along again.  And who knows, maybe, if you’re lucky, my dad won’t find you this time.