Saturday 28 November 2009
Monday 9 November 2009
In A Couple Weeks
In a couple weeks to come, each occupant of the third floor even numbered side of Beze will go somewhere away from campus to celebrate Thanksgiving. We're all looking forward to this break. Residents of our hall are from everywhere. From as far stretching distances as Sri Lanka that makes the travel to Houston seem minuscule, we cover a lot of the country. I myself am from Texas, only a couple hours south of San Antonio. Sri Lanka on the other hand, is the furthest point on earth from San Antonio. I can't even fathom being that apart from my friends and family. Beirut Lebanon, the hometown of my roommate is also an incredibly far distance from home. Although I am not sure of my roommate’s plans for this upcoming Thanksgiving, I know he misses his family, and the feeling he knows will only escalate the nearer holiday season is.
What we've all come to know is that college is rigorous work, and that we all need a break. Besides our measly fall break, that allowed us only a single Friday of classes off, this will be our first true break. Personally, my excitement can't be expressed enough. My motivation in completing most of my assignments has been this. It's time for a break, in only two weeks.
Tuesday 3 November 2009
Sprawled in the Lawn
People deal with the changes in weather in interesting ways.
To think for a second that it is us that have control over ourselves when the weather meter points directly at what we desire is blasphemy. The urge most everyone experienced this past week, including many of us Beze Third Floor Eveners, to sprawl ourselves, books, pens, computers and absorb the ideal temperatures, share of shade and sunlight, and clear crisp air was not self administered. In this case, we become victim to the appeal of the changes in season. Commonly misinterpreted is the idea that it is us that has so brilliantly gathered ourselves outside to indulge our senses in the turning of a new season leaf, sometimes meant literally. These times each year the leaves fall from the trees, not by our own faults, but because that's just the way it happens. Do we have any control over this? None whatsoever, which is why we are standby's to this ultimate change and also why we sprawl ourselves to absorb the differences.
Any surplus amount of anything is bad, as my mother says. She never said it about the changing of seasons, but here too the message stands. Too much heat is exhausting. Too much cold is suffocating. Now, at the turn of these seasons when the leaves drop in our lawn and provide for a comfortable layer atop our already green and lush foundation of St. Augustine, is when we open our doors to the pleasure of natures splendid balance. We Third Floor Eveners invite what is outside in with us, and are often led to it. It takes our hand and we almost unknowingly submit to it. We display our submission proudly as to say "Yes! I've made it this far. I recognize what you're intentions are with me and that you are here to soothe the reminder of my dry dusty summer, or my long frigid winter. Make my soul crisp again." When we submit together, and at once, it's a marvel. It's not here long, so lets continue to absorb. Never can you absorb enough of a balance.
Tuesday 20 October 2009
MONDAY
Monday's are not spectacular. Monday's are slow, stressful, and full of the mundane tasks you avoid doing all weekend. But people, there is a solution to this, and it only costs $5. What "my boy" and I, Kimo Thorpe, have done is formulated the perfect counter to everything Monday involves that makes it so dreadful. It comes in the form of meat, vegetables, music and lighter's fluid.
Evidently, when these four items are mixed in perfect proportion the outcrop is a good time. Absurd, you say? On a Monday, impossible!
There lies my intended message. In a normal weekday, besides Monday of course, the average college student on Trinity's campus enjoys around 9 min. of enjoyment according to a recent poll of mine. On Monday's however, that time of enjoyment drops dramatically to an average of 33.7 seconds an hour. What we've done on these Monday Spectaculars (held consistently every Monday from 4-7 in the lawn between Beze and Herndon dorms) is gather all these lost seconds of enjoyment and pushed them together between these hours. If somewhere throughout your day you feel robbed of your 33.7 seconds, do not fret. It is I, or Kimo, that has taken your seconds. Your seconds have been carefully collected, not trashed or abused, but gathered for safe keeping to be let loose the second the clock hits 4p.m.. Ever regaining your seconds is thus impossible. The only way to not feel so bitter about being robbed is to attend! If by chance you’re reading this and it's an impossibility to attend the Spectacular, you either shouldn't worry. Your seconds will soon be radiating all over campus. To receive a small dosage of what you lost, close your eyes and listen carefully, if you hear music and laughter, that’s a group effort giving you back a small taste of your lost medicine.
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Monday 5 October 2009
Great Storm on Trinity Hill
Peculiar Events:
God so shook Beze Third, we were all left clinging to our bedstands. Or so I've heard. Apparently a great and epic thunderstorm rolled right on top of Trinity hill momentarily engulfing lower campus. I spent this night with my brothers and sisters, in Luling, TX. When I came back to campus the story of the "Great Storm on Trinity Hill" is what I heard first.
The most vivid account I heard came from my roommate.
On a Saturday night, he was out doing what natives of Beirut (voted party city of the world for the summer of 2009) do best, partying. Please keep in mind the stretch of his inebriated imagination in these accounts. He left for his destination on wheels, and was propelled back to Beze Third by troller motor on a boat, slowly and surely. He found our room half submerged in water upon arrival. As any selfless and considerate man as himself would do, his immediate reaction was to search for his peers. He maneuvered the dangerous waters that rushed south down highway 281 towards Corpus Christi, TX. Room to room he swam, and encountered not a single drenched soul. He grabbed the limb of a live oak to catch his breath. Looking up, he saw a white flag waving in the wind. Felice Mignon, his lover, strategically placed her lace frilled pillowcase to attract the attention of a brave man just as he. He swam towards her. In the pivotal moment of his rescue effort Miss Mignon reaches forward to grab his hand to be pulled to safety and gasps as she looks up. She pulled back from his hand in utter fear, Murchison tower falls but to no avail his right hand reaches up and stops it from shattering. He continued to place person after person into the tower's peak before putting it upright again. He saved the night. Many owe their lives to him.
The next issue of the Trinitonian will be completely devoted to this man, Makram Ahmadieh. The bravest of souls.
If you don't believe this lie is true, ask the blind man he saw it too.
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