Goodbye

Thank you my faithful readers for....well... reading. But, the time has come for me to say goodbye. My little blog, (and the rest of the "Blogstorm" bloggers) are saying goodbye. Never fear friends/family, you can still stay abreast of all of the goings on in my head by reading my personal blog. As for everyone else... well you can just email me once in awhile and I'll try to come up with something really witty to reply to you!

Farewell! -Beth

My Passport to the City!

Anyone that has ever looked at Simpson, knows that one thing we always talk about is location, location, location. Yea, yea, there are some other pretty campuses out there (not quite as pretty), sure, there are a few profs at other schools that seem cool too (not quite as cool), but we have one thing that no one else can boast- an awesome LOCATION! And why does that matter you ask? Here are few good reasons.

1) The food. Now, when I went to Greece for May Term, I fell in love. Yes, maybe it was the warm Mediterranean sun or exotic language, but I did, I fell in love. The object of my desire? I fell in love with a little European delight known as the Hobnob. Ohhh.... be still my heart! So, fast forward to present day. About once a year I splurge on a shipment of Hobnobs. The shipping costs four times as much as the cookies (in Europe they sounnd so much healthier..."biscuits") and it's a bit of a risk. Take last summer. I made my order and two weeks later my heart skipped a beat as I came home to a box on my doorstep. Unfortunately, due to the thin chocolate layer on each "biscuit" I had not a tube of 20 biscuits but one large melted mass (thank you triple digit heat index). In theory it should taste the same but in reality, it loses some effect when you have to get a hammer out to chip off a hunk of your biscuit chunk. So, back to my point- I was recently in Des Moines going out to dinner and just around the corner was a World Market store. I had a few minutes, walked through and suddenly my heart stopped. There, on the shelf, standing tall like a pillar of truth and happiness, here in Des Moines, Iowa, was my one true love.

I bought all they had... you know just in case they change their mind on their inventory. SO, as I said I went to dinner that night as well, just around the corner and a wonderful Mongolian Grill, HuHot. I had never had Mongolian (Mongolese?) before and it was delish!! What a day- my European biscuit and Mongolian dinner, all within my own time zone... just minutes away actually.

2) A second great reason for being close to Des Moines is the culture. Now I could go on and on about art festivals, theatre and galleries, but I will keep it concise and focus on my goings on from this past weekend... movie at the IMAX! My friend and fellow blogger (in fact we had to rock/paper/scissors for blogging rights of this event. As you can see... always go with paper...) Jamie and I went and it was awesome. We experienced Polar Express in a whole new way. Thundering speakers, vertigo inspiring movements, it was great! We were both swamped when the last Harry Potter was showing there and we missed it. Rest assured, that won't happen again! Just one more reason to live close to the city!

Where am I?

I have to apologize for my brief hiatus after the holidays. The last thing I remember, it was the day after Thanksgiving and I was just enjoying some leftovers! I grabbed a fork and my 9 inch tin of pumpkiny goodness, I mean, who goes to the trouble of getting an actual plate once the company is gone? Errr... everyone does that, right? And the next thing I know, I woke up with whipped cream on my shirt and a stomach ache and it was five days later! The dreaded pumpkin pie coma!

Rest assured, I am making a full recovering and I am back in blogging action.

That's a wrap!

• Time spent on the road: 6 weeks

• Miles logged: several thousand

• Great students I met: Too many to count

• Another travel season on the books: priceless!

So, I've finished another travel season. It started when it was warm and sunny and the grass was green, and I wrapped this week wearing a winter coat and scraping my windshield. In the time that I spent on the road this fall, I became addicted to fountain pop, Simpson lost a great football coach, I vowed to fight my addiction to fountain pop, the color of the leaves changed... and...er... so did the color of my hair. Well, first of all- if it weren't for the cancer-causing fake ingredients, aspartame poisoning and other miscellaneous damage to my internal organs and tooth enamel, diet fountain pop wouldn't really be all that bad. As it is, it's probably pretty bad, so I am trying to give it up. Secondly, our head football coach Jay Niemann resigned. In my heart it was a sad day- he was a real class act, always respectful and kind, and I wish him the very best. Next, the view from the road is pretty amazing throughout the fall, I love watching the landscape transform itself into a golden, glowing portrait of fall color. Lastly, I have had the same hair color for all of my 28 years. So, in a drastic step, (well, drastic for a toe head like me) I dyed my hair! I don't know why other than it's the season of change- if mother nature can stand to change the color of a few million leaves, surely I can handle one head of hair. (I feel like I need to provide a visual here)



















OK, time for one road story I think. As you'll recall from one of my recent blogs, the wind was a'howling that last week of travel. On my very last travel day of the year, as I was heading east into the now leafless landscape, I came right up on an accident. I literally almost drove into it- I was on scene even before any law enforcement made it. Apparently a semi truck hauling.. I don't know what, hay bales I guess (I'm a city girl, someone help me out here) lost control because of the wind, then jack-knifed, losing his load!

This next pic is proof I was first on the scene! Here is the ambulance en route!OK, here is one final picture of the scene, after the help arrived. I hope everyone was OK, it didn't look like an injury accident.

Lastly, I pose you with with one important question to ponder over this long holiday weekend. This is a time for being thankful. Which frienships in your life are you most thankful for, or might I ask "Who's Your Buddy?"

Oh yeah, you are, my dear "93% Diet Pepsi, 5 % Cherry Coke, 2% Dr. Pepper" fountain pop. Thanks for seeing me through the long hours in the minivan, facing the sun on the way out AND on the way home, listening to the daily cattle prices on the radio, and causing the frequent pit stops in small town Iowa gas stations. Yes, thank YOU for being my buddy.

Perspective

One of the lessons I have learned in life, is that what you see depends on where you stand- both literally and figuratively.

Let's start with literally. Everyone has their "dream concert." For 15 years my dream concert, if I could see ANYONE live in person, was Garth Brooks. As luck would have it, his recent One Man, One City concert occurred in Kansas City, a mere 3 hours from where I live. So, thank you Ebay, because 13 bids and 2 tickets later I had seats to see the Artist of the Century.

My "view" of the concert, if you will, was fabulous. My best friend and I were nestled right smack in the front row (ok, the front row of the 2nd section), for our dream concert. Being so close to the stage, we got to see every emotion that Garth had and it made the experience awesome. I imagine someone sitting in the nosebleed section (poor schmucks) had a different perspective than we did. They would have seen a tiny little figure, kind of resembling an ant, flitting around stage like a firefly.

I imagine that Garth had an entirely different perspective. Whereas we know all about him, his motives behind each song,stalk his every move (or is it just me that does that?), I imagine he just sees a sea of bodies- a mass of nameless, faceless fans huddled like Alaskan Salmon- squirming and fighting our way just to get an inch closer. Another day "at the office." We were both in the same city, same auditorium on the same night and yet.... a difference of perspective.

Perhaps more important, is how our perspective changes figuratively. As my friend and I sat waiting for Garth to appear on stage, we reminisced about days past. We talked about what we were like as freshmen in college, and how now, 10 years later, after our lives have taken us down our respective paths, our outlooks and beliefs have completely shifted. We laughed about all of the things we believed and plans we made. Things we once thought, now seem ridiculous. Judgments we once made, now seem shortsighted. That change in perspective is to me, one of the very most important aspects of college. Degree- yes, that's a big one. Friends, fun, Intro to Medieval Thinkers, yep, those are all important too. But Perspective shapes the course of how you make all of your decisions. There have been many times where I have disagreed with a coworker, family member, friend, or stranger for that matter, and come to find out later that perhaps my perspective on the situation was skewed and if I had tried to see things from their side maybe I would have drawn a different conclusion. There is a saying that you can't know why someone has done something unless you've walked in their shoes... seen their perspective. Good advice I think!

FREE T-SHIRT!!!!!

OK dear readers here's the deal- whoever is FIRST to comment on this blog, as in, this very post, right here, right now... gets a free t-shirt. Period, easy as that! That's it. No crazy hoops, no shipping and handling. Just a comment!

OK, there is one stipulation. Mom, coworkers, student sitting at the desk 15 feet away from me, crazy stalker ex-boyfriend (OK, I made that one up) if you are reading this, you don't count. In other words, the comment has to be from someone who does not really know me in real life, which, I know, that's rare, because I am kind of a big deal. People know me.

Ready...... set...... comment!!!!

ALSO, whoever posts the most original comment (anyone can play, even those who DO kow me) that mades me laugh out loud, not just "LOL" (as in, mildly amuses me just barely enough to make it worth noting in a 3-letter acronym), but honestly, actually, laugh out loud, you get a free gift also!

GO!!!

Can I have a wind advisory with that?

Hello from the road! Wow, where to start-let's see, oh yes, the wind.... Well, my van was doing the cha-cha on the open highway as I struggled to keep it on the road today! Gale force winds were giving me all they had but I prevailed. Well, the van prevailed, my hair... not so much. Every time I had to get out of the van for even a nanosecond my appearance took a nosedive.

By the time I arrived at my destination I looked....fabulous. This is my, "are you kidding me, I'm honestly going to walk into my next appointment looking like this, where is a flat iron when you need one, maybe I can pass this off as a punk look" look.

Speaking of the cha cha. My good friend, colleague and fellow blogger Andy got married this past weekend. It was a beautiful wedding.... until of course... the cha cha. If you haven't been to a wedding in the past year, you may not know of this outstanding phenomenon! It's the Macarena of the new century. Allow me to indulge you: (cue token hyped up drum beat music)
Clap your hands everybody
Slide to the left
take it back now yal
One hop this time
Right foot lets stomp
Left foot lets stomp
Cha Cha now yal!

This is one of those great, group dance things. By great I mean, terrible and annoying with the sole purpose of making adults look like buffoons. Because only one of two things can happen. 1) Either you don't catch on to the dance until 8 seconds before it ends, and in the mean time you have plowed into the groom's 80-year old grandmother- not once but twice, because you cha-cha'd the wrong direction, OR, 2) you actually know the dance and do it correctly, and frankly, that's not actually any cooler, and in fact may actually make you look like a bigger buffoon. Of course, any 8-year old in the house can groove the cha-cha like a celebrity on Dancing with the Stars. Little punks...


Lastly, let's talk about Grease Creatures- my latest way to pass the hours driving. You've heard of people gazing at clouds and looking for shapes? OK, this is the same thing, but you do it with the greasy leftovers of your drive-through food. You can use spent napkins, paper bags, or even that important piece of paper that accidentally touched your food and now forever has the greasy Ring of Doom imprinted on it.



















OK, expand your mind- now what do you see? A dog? A bunny? The Mona Lisa? Keep looking...maybe squint a little... Of course, the immense guilt of eating yet another greasy glob of goodness weighs on my mind and, on the best of days, I end of logging some miles on the treadmill. Then, feeling pretty good about my awesome workout, I head to Coldstone for a double scoop of chocolaty-brownie goodness. What? Would I like to add a dose of cookie dough and a chocolate dipped waffle cone for only 79 cents? Why sure! This probably seems like very unstable behavior to the outsider. Ok, it's definitely unstable... somewhere across town a psychiatrist is cringing... well, that, or a Jenny Craig rep- either way, I'm sure it's bad!

Crikey!

Please use your best Australian accent for the following:

"Crikey! Look at that croc, she's a real beauty! My goodness, look at the teeth on her! Wait, what's that, my goodness, she's leaving the swamp! Wait, she's hovering, she's floating! Will you look at that! Look out mate, that croc is coming after us!"

OK, enough imagery here, you get the idea. Actually, in honor of Halloween we had not a croc hunter, but a Ghost Hunter on campus today! Like, a legitimate, certified, "I have tools and stuff to look for ghosts" ghost hunter. (OK, I don't know about the certified part, I made that up, I mean, who would certify them? FBI? AARP? NRA? ASPC???)

You may or may not know that Simpson is thought to be a haunted campus. Many books (Like Haunted Places and Haunted Heartland) and articles have been written on the subject. I'm not saying one way or the other, all I can say is that I work in "the haunted building, " aka College Hall or Old Chapel, and have spent many a late night there alone- and to date, I've yet to be massacred by a floating white ghost. So, all I can say is that she (Mildred) must be friendly.


But, the Ghustbuster, or wait, the Ghost Hunter shall investigate campus all day today and pronounce his findings at 8 PM in a public forum. We shall see what he discovers.....

I'll finish with some good Halloween Humor!

Gray Anatomy

Among the coils of gray matter, cells and lymph nodes, deep in the center of my brain I think there is a little compartment with an elf. He sits at a type writer all day and types out random ideas and thoughts. I think his name is Horace. Oh, and he has a British accent- weird…I know.

What does he write about? Anything and everything. The things with the most merit make their way to my vocal chords and I pass them off as my own thoughts, everything else just zips around my neuro pathways, forever banging against my skull. Horace distracts me at the worst of times. He forces his stupid ideas on my when I am driving, he shares his life philosophies with me when I am supposed to be paying attention to something important, and he even wakes me up in the middle of the night with his poetry writing. Crazy elf…

Here is a sample of Horace’s recent ramblings- normally I’d never voice them because they have little merit. But, this is a blog afterall- which means pretty much anything goes. It sounds like me talking but that's because Horace only has a typewriter.

Here goes. (Don't forget the British accent)

On the road you are forced to eat every meal out. I discovered that Hardees is actually really good. For some reason, you seem to only find them in small towns these days but man, they have good burgers. I'll admit, I hate their marketing- here is a pretty good farce of the "Lardees" Thickburger commercials. I mean, no one can compete with the golden trans-fatty goodness that is the McDonalds French fry, but if you're looking for a burger- yummmm.

Another small town treasure is Pamida. I LOVE Pamida. Maybe it's the city slicker in me- I grew up with Walmart and Target. Pamida's are small and cheap and yet I always seem to find some gem I just must have. So next time you drive through small town Iowa, check out the local Pamida.

I think it's weird when a room full of complete strangers says "Bless you" when you sneeze. It's just weird- I don't know you, why are you saying that?

I love it when you are wasting your life away watching TV on a Sunday afternoon and you come across some reruns of a terrible reality show. It turns out it's a marathon and 5 hours later you've watched the whole season. Man, ANYthing can suck you in. For me, this weekend it was, "Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders: Making the team 2." I am embarrassed to admit that. But then, I proceeded to get sucked into "The Real Coyote Ugly," and then I finished it off with "I want to look like a high school cheerleader again." Man.... that is way lame.

I've always thought cars should have big screens on the outside where you can type messages to other cars. It's good in theory, it would be like, "Hey, nice rims." But, I suppose in reality it would be more like "Are you kidding me, haven't you evert heard of a turn signal idiot!"

In 2 weeks I am going to see the Artist of the Century in concert... so that's cool.

McDonals Rents DVD's now. I wonder if they rent out that McDonalds bashing movie, Supersize me? Or Fastfood Nation? That would be really weird. I wonder how they decide what to add? Harold and Kumar go to White Castle? No way, that's promoting the competition! Saw 4? Well, the dead bodies kind of resemble Big Mac juice, so maybe not?

Movie theatre popcorn smells good in a buttery, movie'ish kind of way, but also bad, in a smelly sock kind of way. Has anyone else ever noticed that?

Ok, OK, that's enough Horace, go back your brain cage.

Hmmmm

Unfortunately I've got nothing humorous or even slightly clever to say today. I just noticed that my previous blog was more than 7 days old which is my cardinal sin of blogging. So here I am. I'm sitting in a hotel room, just catching up on some business after driving all day. I do have a few blogs I'm working on that will be oh so witty- but I just don' t have the gumption to put them into words tonight. But don't worry, my mind is a steel trap- I won't forget! (Well, I mean, yes I forgot my map, cell phone charger and a few other minor essentials for life on the road, but...)

And congrats to Storm football for an awesome win last weekend!

I'll be back in all of my blogging glory before you know it. As for now, I'm going to turn in- I just realized I am sitting on the bedspread- a major no-no in any hotel. Um, ewwwwww.

My quarterlife...

The next time you approach a college rep at the beginning of a college fair, and she is sweating and panting and fanning herself with a brochure, just stop and ask yourself if there is ANY chance that she just navigated 8 blocks of city stairways, escalators and curb-checks while dragging a pull-cart loaded with over 50 pounds of college materials with her. IF indeed there is a chance, however small, that this could be the circumstance- proceed with caution...

On a completely unrelated note, I just wrapped another successful week of travel season This week saw me navigating the byways of downtown Minneapolis. I spoke with tons of great students and even learned that indeed, the word Hilton does have meaning beyond just celebutante blonds who favor bejeweled Chihuahuas. In fact, it's an interesting study of contrasts actually, because the Minneapolis Hilton was perhaps the nicest hotel I have ever stayed in- elegant and comfortable with the best customer service I've ever experienced. Now that's HAWT! (What? No? That word's not cool anymore? Oh it never was? Sorry...)

This week also signified my quarter-season the point where my fall travel is about a fourth complete. From here on out I'll mostly be cruising past the corn fields of rural eastern Iowa, struggling to find a radio station that plays music rather than livestock prices and contemplating life. And I'll be soaking up and enjoying every Iowa-farm scented minute of it.

One of my recent contemplations was about my quarterlife crisis. It's kind of like the midlife crisis, without the Botox and new car- because let's face- the mid twenties doesn't lend itself to such luxuries. OK, actually the quarterlife crisis is the panic the young twenty-something endures when realizing they don't actually know anything, the world is a scary place, somebody is trying to sell you insurance for EVERYTHING, they aren't moving up the corporate ladder fast enough, or, uh, that their corporate ladder resembles more of a homemade footstool made in shop class and the bottom rung of the corporate ladder is actually out of reach. I know each age has it's own pressures and worries, it's just that the twenties marks the beginning of a whole lot of grown-up issues. Take employment benefits for instance- deductibles, coinsurance and tax-deferred 401 K matches- most young professionals don't know the ins and outs of such goings ons, let alone that "French" benefits are actually "fringe" benefits- and oh yeah- they don't have any!

Rest assured- I am well past my quarterlife crisis. Well, I mean, I am slightly closer to 30 than 20 so, yeah, I'm good. I've learned a lot of things in my quarter-century (ok, plus just a little) years. I've already told you that I've learned to not be afraid of failure and that it's ok to cheer for the losing team sometimes. But I've also learned that life is too short and too precious to worry about the small things (this one is a work in progress..) I've learned that the way you see the world depends on where you stand. I've learned that empathy is admirable not weak. I've learned that you should never take love, happiness or life for granted.
One of the cool things I've learned in my job is that dealing with people is as varied as the many paparazzi poses Paris Hilton has in her arsenal (that's a lot)! Some students love to talk to me on the phone...some don't (I know, it's hard to believe!). Some are looking for fun, excitement and activities in college, others are looking for study-tables, mentors and chemistry labs. Some love Facebook, others love textbooks! It's exciting and challenging and it's one of the things that make me love my job and working with high school students looking at Simpson!

PS- check out our new web project- it's awesome, where else can you hear the rumble of a motorcycle engine and learn more about forensic science?

Pride

This past week was "Homecoming Week" at Simpson. Ahhhh, homecoming. A time of competitions, decorations, friends, fun and most of all, school pride. Now, homecoming at a college is a little different than high school- gone are the days of "Pajama Day," "backwards day," or my personal favorite, "Rock the 80's" day. Its too bad, because I could sport some huge bangs like an eighties hairband and black stirrup pants with the best of 'em. But, alas, college kids on any campus are too committed to sweatpants and hoodies to bother with altering their attire. Rather, they catch the spirit of the week by competing in things like skits, street painting, olympics, bonfires and pep rallies. At Simpson the main event is Yell Like Hell, a competition with lots of chanting, clapping, stomping and rhythm-with campus groups performing original routines- it's awesome in a very Stomp the Yard kind of way!

The week concludes with a football game on Saturday. So yesterday I threw on my favorite sweatshirt, grabbed a thermos of hot cocoa and went to mingle with lots of students and alumni to watch the Storm take the field. Ok, who am I kidding, I was slathered in sunscreen, squinting in the harsh sun and dripping with sweat- but that doesn't sound as picturesque does it? Since when is it 85 degrees in October anyway? Like most spectators, I knew my team faced a big challenge- our biggest rival who also happened to be ranked in the top 10 teams in the nation. But I cheered my heart out- I teamed with the pep band, the cheerleaders and seas of fans, parents and alumni wearing red and gold to cheer for my team. We opened scoring with an 80 yard run and the crowd went crazy. The crowd was so into it and at one point, one of the Storm football players jumped off the field, grabbed the huge Simpson College flag and ran up and down the side of the field, with that huge flag billowing behind him. Everyone in those stands could taste the victory and imagine the headlines after we, the underdogs, knocked off our rival on such an important day. The tension took us all of the way through the 4th quarter when the final horn sounded. But in the end, despite the crowd, the band, the excitement- we lost the game. It was so close, and we lost by just 1 touchdown. I just felt devastated- we could have won that game. The players and coaches deserved that win and the fans wanted it so badly.

But I did learn something about pride. Pride isn't something that comes and goes. It's something special when an entire stadium aches with disappointment after a tough loss. It means we all have a connection to this place- we cheer when we're up and we sigh when we're down- but in the end- we all love it. Any team can gather fans and paint their faces when national championships are on the line but the pride I saw in that stadium is something I wouldn't trade for anything. (But I'm not sayin' a national championship wouldn't be nice as well!)

Just give the people what they want!

Ok, it sounds like my dear readers would like some more information about me and Beatrice- let's call her B. If you don't know who I am talking about, I'm afraid you'll have to read my previous post. It was 10 years ago exactly that B and I met. Like any relationship, things were shiny and new in the beginning. In the first picture here, you see B with me my freshman year, with my two new roommies and best friends, Sharla and Lauren. B is on the far right. I can't explain why all three of us look like idiots in this picture. We were freshman, what can I say? I'm sure we felt clever and cute. Apparently B gave me a sense of confidence because we were together for all of the big milestones- meeting my first college crush, pulling my first college all-nighter to study for a chem test, stewing about the grade I got on my first big chem test... and the subsequent cooking dough binge (thank goodness B was plenty roomy!)


In this next picture, you see B in her sophomore year on the far left. By this time I felt some loyalty to B. As you can see, not only did she give me comfort in the hard times, she kept me dry in the wet times. Just as this week marks the beginning of Homecoming festivities, this rain-soaked day 9 years ago took place during the Homecoming Olympics. It might have been raining cats and dogs but darn it, B and I weren't going to miss the Egg-toss or human pyramid for nothin'!

This next photo was taken my junior year. B is on the far right. B definitely saw a lot of time on the tennis court over the years. This particular day, I triumphed over one of my main rivals on the court. I was glad B was with me to celebrate- it's nice to give something back to your loved ones once in awhile!


This next picture was taken the senior year. I had just received flowers from my eventual husband. I always knew B had a jealous streak in her, but that year it came out more than ever. Eventually, I turned to some of my other big comfy sweatshirts- hoodies, embroidered ones, and the like. I even took one of the newbies on vacation with me- I don't think B has ever fully forgiven me for that.






Over the years I have accumulated more Simpson tshirts and sweatshirts than you could ever imagine. After the whole "vacation-incident" I found B crouched over one of her poor competitors who arms had been detached with precision, scissors lying conspicuously next to her. I was distraught at first, then it gave me an idea. Some people would consider this quilt just a nice cozy wrap.... don't be fooled. This is a graveyard of the unfortunate...
Here, years later, stained, worn, stretched out and holey, B is back in my good graces. We've just been through too much- crushes, rainy days, celebrations, sports, weddings and now, domestic life. My advice to you- get your own, get 'er early- there are lots of memories to be made and you'll need someone soft and warm to share them with!

If I could turn back time...

OK, first of all- if you are now inspired to belt out Cher's, "If I Could Turn Back Time" and find yourself whistling it for the rest of the day, well, you can thank me later! Moving on...

In Ray Bradbury's "A Sound of Thunder," characters are able to travel back in time. Now, wouldn't that be amazing? From Bill and Ted (who do indeed have a fan site...go figure) to a planet ruled by apes, hundreds of songs, stories and movies have captured our imagination in the name of time travel. So I pose 2 questions. 1) How much have I dated myself in the first 2 paragraphs of this blog alone? and 2) What would you do different in your life?

Well, I have too many changes to cover them all.... the high school years, family affairs, friends, that time I paid money to see Gigli in the theatre (to my credit Bennifer was all the rage at that time...). But in the name of being concise (no, seriously, I'm going to try this time...) I will keep it to my college years.

First and foremost, it's worth mentioning that I played collegiate tennis for 4 years at Simpson. It was an amazing experience! I traveled, met awesome people, and got to play a game I LOVE! "Coach" was my mentor, attended my graduation and later my wedding. To this day I consider him a close friend. I remember sitting shotgun in the van as the miles passed- talking morea bout life than about tennis sometimes.

The pride I felt each time I donned my Simpson uniform was more than worth every long hour perfecting my dropshot or kickserve. Now, what many people don't know is that my first love was actually basketball in high school. But, I was a better tennis player so that is what I pursued. In retrospect, I regret that I didn't at least try to play basketball as well in college. I might have been a "bench jockey" for 4 years. I might have been ridiculed or mocked for my inability and demoted to waterboy (ok, just kiddin, they don't do that). Or, maybe I would have had the time of my life, made even more amazing friends, and traveled to great places. Simpson's basketball team this year past year played in the Sweet 16 in New York City!! But, the bottom line is I was too afraid of failure so I didn't try. That was a big mistake and if I could turn back time, I'd have the courage to take on the challenge. Heck, maybe it's not too late? I may have used up my 4 years of NCAA eligibility for athletics, but maybe they could still use a watergirl? Give me a call coach!

OK, another experience I had at Simpson was the stunning May term trip I took to Greece my junior year. You're talking to a girl who had literally never stepped foot on an airplane at that time, so you can imagine that the sights I saw in the Mediterranean were quite breath taking to my 20-year old eyes! I saw the Ionic Sea, volcanic islands, Olympia, the Parthenon, Delphi, the Epidarious Theater, the Acropolis, the Ruins of Mycenae and more olive trees than my green-olive-loving-heart could ever desire. So, that being said, I should have taken advantage of another trip. I had friends that traveled 3-4 times, to different countries around the world. Why didn't I? Who knows, I'm sure I had a plethora of reasons that seemed really legit at the time. What in the world (the "this is a really giant world that I'll never get to explore until I'm a sassy, gray-haired retiree now" world) what I thinking?

Bottom line-DON'T BE AFRAID of taking on a new challenge- don't let a fear of failure immobilize you like it did me. Mark Twain says, "Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did. " Simpson won't let you down- try out for the choir, play a sport (or, honestly, if you're really awkward, intramurals are a fine choice as well... I'm just sayin!) And lastly- travel, travel, travel! It will change your life and THAT is what college is all about.

Did you know that Simpson is listed by US News and World Report as one of the top 100 colleges in the country for travel abroad programs?

"But whyyyyyyyy"

There was once a much-loved professor at Simpson, who in response to any number of answers given by his students---would pause and retort, "But whyyyy?" Now, you have to put yourself in that classroom to fully understand the effect. He hadda deeeeee-yup, syrupy, Suthun' drawwwwwl. The kind where every "worrr-uddd" had at least two syllables, even the short ones. The kind that made you want to curl up next to a fireplace and just listen to bedtime stories with a nice brew of hot cocoa- not the cheap, lumpy, is this just brown water kind- but the oh man, this is the good stuff kind. So anyway, put yourself in that time, and imagine those words again- say it with me now "But whyyyyy?"

Well, I (and other bloggers) have often written about my insane jealousy at the students that currently get to call Simpson home. Did you ever think to ask, "But whyyyyy?"

I'll try to concisely (OK, scratch that- I'm never concise in my blogs) tell you whyyyyy I miss it so. This past weekend marked the beginning of fall. The beginning of falling leaves, football games, chili in the crock pot, pumpkin patches, midterms, harvest season and "oh man, please let us delay winter just awhile longer!" Yesterday I woke up and faced a beautiful day- 60 degrees and sunny. Perfect. I celebrated by going for a walk. What I saw made my heart just ache. It was one of those moments where I almost lose my breath. I always make my way toward campus when I walk, and I did just that. The sun was glimmering through the trees and the huge maple leaves whispered in the breeze. It was mostly quiet, it was after all, 7 AM on a college campus- and let's face it, college students aren't exactly famous for being early birds. But there were two students. They were strolling through the campus, just winding through the brick sidewalks. They both had on big, comfy Simpson sweatshirts, the kind that you keep forever- no matter how nappy and holey and stained they get. Mine is 10 years old this year and I still wear her. (her name is Beatrice- don't ask....) The waistband is almost severed from its host- but none-the-less- she's mine and we're in it for the long haul!

Anyway, they both had on worn jeans. They held hands, college sweethearts just soaking up the day. No papers, no tests, no bills, no worries. They lazily strolled, with no purpose but the journey itself. I just got caught up in the beauty of the moment- watching them "BE" just as thousands before them had been. Some young couple would have strolled just like that 150 years ago, well, trade in the comfy jeans for a fitted bodice and flouncy skirt, maybe some nice tweed knickers or something? But they are part of the history of Simpson, whether they know it or not. Where they go, what they do, how they spend their lives- it's just as much a part of the history as each worn brick that shapes the architecture of the campus. Maybe it doesn't make sense to you? Maybe you have to experience it, see it, know it or live it to understand how a place can be so dear to my heart? Or, maybe I should just can it with the sentimentality and go back to being a wise-acre???? I do have a reputation to uphold you know!

Dear Miss Admissions:

I'd like to take a little break from my commentary on daily life to share a little gem from the mail bag. Some of you may not know this, but a famous New York newspaper is just dying to sign me up as a columnist. But don't worry, I've rebuffed them in favor of admissions! I just love what I do too much- besides the leaving home one too many hours before dawn to drive across the state today, I had an awesome day at my first college fair of the year! I talked to so many cool students that my voice is hoarse and it feels like I swallowed a thumb tack- but in my line work- that is a sign of a successful day!

Anyway, on to the letter:

"Dear Miss Admissions-I am a senior in high school and I am starting to get really stressed about college. I don't know what I want to major in or where I want to go. Plus, my boyfriend wants to move to the east coast for college to play lacrosse. I love him but I think I want to stay closer to home. What do I do? -Anonymous on the Nishnabotna"

Miss Admissions says:

Dear Anonymous on the Nishnabotna- First of all you have to find a way to manage your stress. Read a book, crazily stalk someone on Facebook or take up yoga- your friends will be wicked jealous when you show them you can do the Leaning Dragon! I personally prefer throwing on some comfortable yet "I can't believe you are wearing those" ugly sweatpants and downing a healthy amount of raw cookie dough- but, whatever floats your boat. Believe it or not, finding the right college is not supposed to be a miserable experience! And trust me when I say you don't have to pick a major yet! I changed my major three times when I was at Simpson. I would have kept changing it but apparently the whole point is to actually get a degree and become insanely successful! But really, a lot of people in their forties are still trying to figure out what they want to do when they grow up, so you have time.

And, um, about the boy. I KNOW it is so tempting to follow him for the sake of the relationship but Miss Admissions says that definitely is a very bad idea- for all involved. College is actually a lot of fun and meeting new people is what it is all about: boys, girls, profs, people who sell you coffee at midnight so you can finish that paper you blew off to go to the Cheesecake Factory and Happy Potter 3 at the Imax, with your roommies! (I'll neither confirm nor deny that I ever did that) Plus, if you are meant to be together, it will indeed work out. But, there is no way to know that right now- I mean c'mon- take Brit and K.Fed- well pre-divorce, pre-kids, pre-headshaving shopping sprees Brit and KFed- who could have predicted they wouldn't work out y'all?

So, bottom line: My "totally unbiased, completely objective, this-is-really-good-advice" advice is to visit a college with a variety of majors (perhaps Simpson?) within the distance you are comfortable with (like Simpson?) that is a good fit for you (hmmm... maybe?) and lastly, that is within 15 minutes of an Imax (Harry Potter 4 will eventually come out- plan ahead!). Oh, I know, I know, there is a perfect college that fits all of your needs- a little place called Simpson, maybe you've heard of it?

Best Wishes, Miss Admissions

My favorite things

24 hour short hours from now I will embark on my first day of “travel season.” Well, if I am being totally accurate, it will actually be 26 hours from now. Because, it is now only 4 AM. For the 6th time in 7 days, my 2 year-old daughter has once again roused me from that precious thing that the rest of the world is taking for granted right now- sleep! So, as everyone else dreams of fluffy white sheep, I whittle away the hours waiting for the rest of the world to wake up.

Tomorrow will be an early morning as well. When the sun finally decides to make its appearance, I’ll be heading due east on Interstate 80. That’s the tricky thing about traveling in eastern Iowa- I’ll be fighting the glare- trying my best to navigate traffic at 75 MPH while the sun tries to burn my retinas off. The bummer of it, heading west on the way home at night I must do it all over again.

But, I am excited. I cherish those mornings- the world is quiet and peaceful. The air is crisp. It’s just me, my 32 ounces of Diet Dew, and the open road. Sometimes a gravelly-voiced narrator will keep me company as I listen to the latest suspense novel to make it’s way to CD. Then I'll proceed to be paranoid and afraid of my own shadow in every parking lot, but that's a whole other topic.

Given the occasion, I thought it was appropriate to tell you more about my favorite things: people and places from the road.

(Take it away Julie Andrews..."Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens, brown paper packages tied up with strings, these are a few of my favorite things.") oh and yes, if you are lucky, that song will be in your head ALL day!

Two great guidance counselors: Two great guidance counselors that immediately come to mind are Ms. Reisner from North Tama and Mr. Kettman from Marion. These two are in touch with their students and are so friendly. There are other great ones as well, too many to name, but these two are in my travel area and they come right to mind. Even though they meet with tons of admissions counselor, who all look the same, carry the same big black bag, and bring the same glossy publications, they still take the time to ask me how I am doing. Kettman, a former road warrior himself, perhaps remembers what those days are like- when your back aches from driving and you're tired from sleeping in hotels. I also have to give props to the folks in the awesome guidance office at Iowa Falls. Lois, who sits at the front desk, is so sweet. She remembers me every year and even asks to see pictures of my daughter! Lastly, I return to North Tama because they also get the award for having great students! Now, I have met with great students from nearly every town I have been in- nice students, smart students, funny and polite students. But it seems like when I make the trek, twice a year, to that little office on the top floor of that particular high school, the students are always polite, interested and have good questions. Goooooo RedHawks! Maybe it’s just something in the water??? Physically, Xavier High School in Cedar Rapids is the most beautiful school. It’s tucked in a hilly neighborhood with winding streets. It’s very pretty and always clean.

My favorite hotel is the Hampton Inn. The people are friendly, it is clean, and they even give away free chocolate chip cookies. Rock on Hampton! My favorite gas station is Casey’s- gotta love a place where you can get gasoline, magazines and a hot lunch in ANY small town. My favorite restaurant is Charlie’s (not the chain) in Sioux City Iowa. It’s not a very well-known place, but they have one menu item that gives them the distinction of being my favorite- the pretzel bread sandwich. Mmmmmm. But, given that my travels no longer take me that direction, I will say that Subway is a staple in my traveling diet.

My favorite town is probably LeMars, Iowa. It just always feels like a beautiful fall day up there. Plus, hello, it’s the Ice Cream Capital of the World- home of Wells Blue Bunny. (and yes, I did take the official tour when I was there…)

My favorite landmark is the Mississippi River as it curls it’s way through eastern Iowa.

That’s it for now- it’s 4:30 am and I am getting really enthralled in an awesome infomercial!

Great Apes

My faithful readers may have noticed I removed my blog from yesterday. After consideration, my tongue-in-cheek humor may have not translated into the immense respect I have for the welfare of Great Apes around the world.

Conservation of these amazing animals is so important. Please, take a moment to click on this link. One click per day is all it takes. It's free and it helps protect the world's remaining rainforests and wildlife habitat.

Other important links:

http://www.great-apes.com/

http://www.bonobo.org/index.html

http://www.greatapeproject.org/

http://www.fws.gov/international/animals/gaprogram.htm

Admissions- The E-True Hollywood Story

Admissions- The E- True Hollywood Story (please cue dramatic music and gravely voiced announcer now)

So, rather than read about my mere musings on life in general, I've decided that what my dear readers really want to hear about today is life in admissions. Yes, the glamorous life of exotic travel, gourmet meals and 5 star hotels.

Working in admissions is a funny thing. You don't ever "major" in admissions. I mean, I'm telling you what, no textbook can prepare you for driving down a gravel road in northeast Iowa, rain soaked map in one hand, mascara smeared down your cheeks, hair looking like a million bucks, cell phone pinned between your shoulder and ear as you navigate the steering wheel with your knees and curse Mapquest for once again leading you down the wrong path. No, no prof of mine ever prepared me for such...they may have had PhD's and brains the size of a giant cantaloupes... but that doesn't help in said situations.

Admissions, as a general rule, has massive turnover- just behind the people who have to watch the timer on the deep fat fryer at McDonald's and the people who sit in cubicles all day working on status reports that report on their status reports (yeah, that would stink...) It's not that it's a bad job- but there are some quirky ins and outs that are worth mentioning.

The exotic travel- as previously mentioned the travel will take you far and wide. I've seen mountains of every shape and size. There was that one bluff in Sioux City. Striking really. There was that hill along I-80 in western Iowa. My stomach rolled for just a fraction of a second as I descended, if I hit the accelerator just right. Oh, and that one time there was that grassy knoll in Cedar Rapids- that was awesome. You get the idea- it's awe inspiring.

There is also gourmet meals to contend with. My typical travel day involves making a few stops at high schools, then finding a quaint little cafe to grab a bite between appointments. I tend to frequent a little know place called Casey's. I think it's owned by a french restaurateur, but I can't back that up. The last time I went there, the maitre de welcomed me, showed me the beautifully positioned glass display case where I was able to pick from an assortment of gourmet options. I think I opted for cheese curds and a BubbaBurger- Divine for sure! Unfortunately the dining room was full that day so I had to eat in my car. The sweet aroma of the vine ripened ketchup stuck with me the rest of the day reminding me of my meal. It was a beautiful thing!

Last but not least, we have 5 star hotels to deal with! I've stayed in nearly every town along I-80- from the western edge of Iowa to farthest reaches of Jones county in eastern Iowa. I've often had the delight of sleeping in rooms that open to the outside world- I like to call these 5 star "motels" if you will. Last fall I enjoyed the view overlooking the "industrial park" in one town. In another, the concierge showed me the way to the sauna. With all of the fuzzy growth coming through the wood I felt just like I was in a nature spa- it was so refreshing.

OK, maybe life on the road isn't ALWAYS glamorous, but I wouldn't joke about it if I didn't love every minute of it! I am just cut out for life of gas station dinners, Febreeze rather than detergent (useful for those business suits on the 4th consecutive day on the road) and maps that are laminated (because if they aren't, the first week on the road leaves them battered, torn, stained and generally looking very very sad). Plus, I mean, if an admissions counselor stays beyond the one year mark, that's pretty good. If they stay two, now that is saying something. Heck, I am going on 6 years- I should be Dean any day now!!

A New York state of mind

Well my faithful readers... I am back....I survived the weekend....barely.

See, here's the thing. In Minnesota, when you are speeding across the lake on a breezy September day it feels almost...cool...crisp...refreshing!! Alas, do not be fooled into thinking you can fore go the SPF 500 on such days. No, because IF you do, you will end up with a little "summer color" if you will. Not the good kind of "oh, I have that healthy glow of summer" color, rather the "is somebody stabbing my back/neck/shoulders with a thousand little razor blades then pouring searing Tabasco into the many punctures" kind of color. Need I elaborate further???

None the less, 12 of grandma's homemade fudgy brownies, 4 homemade cinnamon rolls, one sweet burger (a beautiful 1/3 pound slab of ground beef voted the best burger in a tri-state region!) and 3 pounds later, I did have a great weekend.

As did the Storm athletes. The football team won. The women's cross country team (don't worry, we think people that run miles and miles just for fun are crazy too) took first place at their first meet of the year. Knocking off our rival I might add...

And last but not least, our women's volleyball team took time out of their "Statue of Liberty seeing, Broadway visiting, yes we are in fact excused from class for this" weekend trip to New York- to knock off the number 20 rated team in the country, New York University and win the tournament. As my friend Borat would say, "Vaaaaaayyyyy niiiiiiice!"

(you probably need to hear it for yourself if you are lame and in the 1% of people who have not seen the movie) :)

Ahhh yes..... LABOR day

It's days like this that I LOVE what I do. Allow me to paint the picture. I am sitting in my office. Notice I said "office", not a "square, gray, lifeless, this-kind of resembles the little plastic box we used to carry our dog around in, is-this-a-recognized-form-of-torture, you-couldn't-squelch-my-creativity-any-more-if-you-tried" cubicle.

Allow my friend Dilbert to echo my sentiments:

Anywho... sitting here in my office, my window is open and the first fall-like day is blowing breeze into my office (blowing my papers off my desk and bringing with it a few bees... but that's beside the point).

I plan on leaving is just 3 hours, for a long weekend boating on a lake in southern Minnesota with the fam (thank you Central Labor Union circa 1882 for giving me Monday off)
*OK I had to Google that just now, I'll admit that....

Really, who knows what Labor Day means besides just a free day off of work? Please do enlighten me if you know because I honestly don't have to time to filter through Google's 110 million hits explaining it.

What I can tell you is what Labor Day means to me. Ironically, 2 years ago, as everyone else was enjoying a day off, eating hot dogs, throwing Frisbees and the like, I was literally going into LABOR! Like, gonna-have-a-baby, don't-even-think-it's-cute-to-make-a-joke-right-now-about-"labor", labor. Yes, I made my transition from hulking tank of 9 months of DQ Blizzards, prenatal vitamins and backaches, into a mother, all in the blink of an eye. (or 14 hours of backbreaking labor...but who's counting?)

So, as you are doing whatever it is you do over Labor Day, A) be thankful you aren't in actual labor and B) know that I am having a great time acting like an 18 year old- tubing, getting sunburned and staying up too late!

Have a great weekend!

Textbooks, assignments and syllabi, OH MY!

Well, Tuesday the world drew a collective sigh of.....what.....despair? excitement? relief? dread??? Yes, Tuesday marked the first official day of classes. Not only at Simpson, but at colleges nationwide, including classes I am taking to complete my grad degree.

I was indeed excited for the beginning of the Simpson classes, because seeing my students here is fun, rewarding, and- yeah, yeah I know, I'll stop, I've said it all before and you're probably getting sick of my syrupy-"sounds good in theory but in reality it's a sticky mess that gives you a sugar high and toothache"- sweetness toward "my kids." But I was also filled with dread at beginning my final semester of my own classes. My Tuesday class started with a prof who has 2 PhD's and a 12 page syllabus! I mean, c'mon! Heading into my 3rd and final year of the program- my excitement is waning a bit. It’s Iowa, it’s August- therefore twice a week, I hurry to the babysitter’s to swiftly nab my sweet child, stuff her little curly-headed self into a car seat- drive home- hurriedly feed her, give her kisses and head back out into the night. Where, as it turns out- most people are playing, reading, relaxing, swimming, running, eating, smiling, or doing any number of things that don't have to do with any words like "financial, strategic, corporate, flows, applications, accounting, management, statistics or processes." As is turns out I am not so lucky. I’m hungry and I have to sit for the next 3 hours listening to an MBA professor fill my head full of reasons I should care about running a top-down beta verses a regression (no offense to said professor- I’m sure it’s useful to somebody). When the suffering ends- I trudge to my car- relinquish yet another $1.50 parking “dot”- and spend the next 35 minutes wondering what the heck I am doing to myself as I commute back to my little slice of heaven.

I read somewhere that some suma cum laude grad students were given their finals a second time, only ONE MONTH after taking them for real- and they all failed! So, the basic equation here is: pay money, take classes, pay more money for outrageously expensive text books because you can't use the 8th edition (which sells for $3 at Amazon) because only the 9th edition is capable of teaching you these amazing concepts (it happens to sell for the low, low price of $96.50 at Amazon), read the book, memorize the problems in the book, cram for test, get degree. I think that sums it up.

Maybe I am, after all, insane for enduring this self-inflicted torture. I mean, after my Tuesday class I did fall into convulsions of laughter, rocking back and forth until I was foaming at the mouth. (that's normal, right?)

But, alas, let this not deter you my faithful readers. If indeed you are one of the 3 prospective students that stumble across this blog just know that my Simpson education was vastly different. OK, yes, my profs expected me to come to class....on time....fully functioning. But they were kind, smart, and yes, just maybe, when the stars aligned and the mythological gods smiled upon the campus, sometimes they were even funny.

A glimpse inside My World!

So, for all of my whining and complaining in my last blog, move-in day turned out to be, in fact, picture perfect. Yes, it was a a crisp, collegiate, sunny day! I was dying with envy- how I'd LOVE to be back in those shoes: those "naive-but-think-I'm-cool, fresh-faced, can't wait to meet my true-love, I wonder how hard classes will be, high school is SO overrated (but I'll still go back to homecoming)" shoes.

I have to say, as an admissions counselor, move-in day ranks right up there with a big spicy burrito from my favorite Indianola establishment, La Casa (AKA "La Awesome") or a night curled up on the couch watching SATC reruns. See, life in admissions is not always glamorous. I work with tons of great kids each year and along the way I forage through enough paperwork and applications to almost single handedly wipe out the logging industry, I make so many phone calls that I have my 25 digit calling card number memorized and I find myself reciting it in my sleep and I listen to every excuse under the sun and have to show remarkable restraint to act like it makes any sense at all: "It's too far from home."-"It's too close to home."-"I know too many people going there."-"I don't know anyone else going there." "It's not by a lake" ..... you get the idea.

And what am I up against you ask? Some colleges use any tactic imaginable to get students to enroll. They spin the truth. Bash other colleges. Promise unattainable internships because ONE time, 20 YEARS ago, somebody got that internship....(because they had an uncle who worked there in the first place...or some weird thing like that.) They recruit and promise positions to athletes that have no business playing anything other than middle-school kick ball. Why do I whine and complain and work myself into a frenzy over such frivolities? Because I put my heart into meeting students and trying to find the best college for them. Sometimes it's Simpson... sometimes it isn't. But it warms my heart to see "my kids" moving in and preparing to have the best four years of their life!

Blahhhh-ging

So, here it is- 24 hours before new student move-in day. And sure enough, it has rained for 5 straight days. As I type, our football team is scrimmaging their first game of the season just 100 yards away from me. I'd loved to say I am sitting here watching them from my office window- battling it out on the gridiron. Caked in mud from head to toe. Grimy, gritty but warriors through and through.

But, in all honesty, these days our field, like most others, is artificial turf. The worst thing the rain does is cause a little slippage. Maybe a little turf-burn. Anticlimatic don't you think? So, there is nothing interesting or dramatic about the game or the day. It's just rainy. And gray. And wet. Blahhh.

Let's hope for some sunshine tomorrow!

Freshman Friday

OK, what is Freshmen Friday? It is the day of the week I have words of advice for incoming freshmen. Today's lesson is on moving in. Timely, since new students move in just one week from tomorrow!

Now, lesson #1. It is August in Iowa. Therefore it's probably not going to be a picture perfect crisp collegiate day. No, instead it will be the kind of muggy, sticky, sweaty, "did I forget to put my deoderant on or what" kind of August day. Words of wisdom: crank the A/C up in your room when you get there, nobody wants the smell of sweaty stinky people lingering in their oh-so-spacious dorm room!

#2. If you are packing enough furniture for a 6-person family with 3 dogs and a gerbil, then bring a wheely cart or some mode of transport. Every year I see dads single handedly lifting furniture bigger than I have in my house! I can see their discs rupturing before my very eyes! For goodness sakes, even the QwikTrip workers wear those back support belt things and the biggest thing they are lifting is a box of Gatorade! In name of Bishop Matthew Simpson himself, give dad a break!

#3. Just assume you'll have to go to Walmart at least three times that first day. Sure enough, you'll have remembered the most obsure, useless thing ever, like a sweater rack (yes, my roomate did bring one to college) but you'll have forgotten something essential like a towel! See showers are down the hall....so shower...naked...hallway...no towel.. yeah, it's problematic, definitely worth a trip to Walmart.

#4. Finally, be prepared to have some fun! Be open minded, let your guard down and throw all of your assumptions out the door. I was a funky city girl and roomed with a very small town country bumpkin. Within days we were inseparable! No matter how tempting it is and how afraid you might feel, get out there and meet some people! You won't regret it for a second! (unless an uber-geek clings on to you and starts following you everywhere, then you might regret it a little)

Harry Potter and the Dairy Deluge

OK, what has deep fried *insert food here* (seriously anything will work- hot dogs, bananas, snickers, pickles...) on a stick, top notch musical acts from around the world, and a few thousand sticks of buttery goodness artistically sculpted into the form of my favorite boy-wizard? If you guessed a popcorn factory on a busy British street corner during RockStock 2007 you'd be wrong. It's actually the Iowa State Fair, in all of it's 100 degree, sweat dripping, food-on-a-stick licking, "you've got to be kidding me she's not really wearing that in public," glory. It's got to be the only place where you can watch tractor square-dancing, then rock out a few hours later to Alice Cooper. Very nice indeed.

Bottom line is this- if you're going to be in the area anyway to try your hand at the rooster clucking contest or cow patty flinging, then zoom on down to campus- we're only about 15 minutes out of the way. While we don't have a contest for highest corn stalk, I haven't given up all hope of immortalizing our president in the form of butter. I mean, come on, if it's good enough for Harry Potter! ? !

A day of mourning...

You know those relationships that just get better over time? You really learn about the other, come to appreciate their imperfections and devote hours of time and attention really listening to them? Well, this morning that was abruptly ripped away from me and I have to say I am reeling. My morning started like any other. I groaned when the alarm clock went off. I showered in a sleepy daze. I made myself presentable and with 4 minutes to spare, I sat down at my computer, knowing that it would probably make me 5 minutes late to work. But then the awful reality really hit me. My Itunes went wonky! All of my songs, all of my playlists---- gone. Just like that. There was no warning, no horrible freeze-up, no blue-screen of death. One day my 800 songs in all of their toe-tapping, air-guitar prompting glory were there, and the next they were gone. I think there are stages of grief. Something about denial, anger and then maybe acceptance? I'm not sure where horrifically distraught fits in there... any psych majors out there???

Until next time---
-Beth

The new Blogstorm!

Welcome, to the new Simpson Blogstorm! Last year we hosted Blogstorm on Simpson's site, but we decided to go with Blogspot this year. The biggest reason is that we wanted to be able to hear from you, our blog reader! Blogspot allows our readers to leave comments. So let me know what you're thinking (as long as you absolutely love Simpson, love what I wrote, or just love me in general) Ok, maybe that loses some heir of authenticity, I guess you can post comments about just about whatever you want!

Anyway, on to better things. Today is an absolutely perfect morning on campus. The weather is cooler than normal and it reminds me of fall! No question, fall is my favorite time of year! I love the excitement of students returning to campus, or entering for their first semester away from home. It's kind of like how I love the first Harry Potter book and movie above the rest. The others are good, but there's something so contagious about the excitement the students have when they first get to Hogwarts. Everything is so new, there are tons of new people to meet and overall it's a blast. This fall marks 10 years since I first enrolled at Simpson (I hope you're not thinking I am too old to be a Harry Potter fan...) and that excitement is still as strong as it was then. It makes me wonder if that ever goes away? I'd have to guess no, but give me another 10 years and I'll let you know.

No, we don't have a Quidditch team or a Sorting Hat, but if you're into football games or Greek Life, then maybe that will work!