A World Away

Listening to the President's speech about Hurricane Katrina, and reading other people's blogs about how they are involved and helping... It all just reminds me that I have nothing to give. No money, no energy, hardly even the brain power to think about it. The same as it has been in all the other disasters in recent years, except even more so! All I can offer is to share in the suffering somehow, and to pray.

Half Dead

Yes, I survived the past week, not by any merits of my own. I thought things were pretty well laid out: I would attend my classes, attempt to get in, and then register. It was only made clear to me recently that my loan funds would not appear until I was registered. This was a problem. So after I attended both my classes, and knew it would be at least a week until I could register for them, if ever, it was time for Plan B.

There was no Plan B, which stressed me out a little. Actually, my Plan B was shot down a while ago and not replaced. So, Plan C.

Ideas and worries ran through my head while I was eating, praying, trying to sleep. What to do, what to do... Aha! If I couldn't register for the classes I needed, the next best thing would be to register for the requisite number of credits, but in classes I didn't want! I scoured the catalog for remotely related courses, and settled on Peoples of the Middle East and an Art History class on Islamic Art. They had open spots, so I registered. Of course now that I was registered, I would have to attend the classes so that I wouldn't fail them if I had to keep them. Argh! The last thing I needed was to be attending four classes instead of two. And naturally, I couldn't buy the books for any of them until I was sure I could use them, so I couldn't do the homework for the language classes. I could feel all the frustration settling into my lungs.

Meanwhile I was getting familiar with the bus route to and from campus, and with the location of the different buildings. I managed to ride my bike to campus, then left it there so I could pick it up at the bus stop. Once, I tried using the bike rack on the bus, but the driver was not happy when he had to show me how to use the rack, then lift the bike onto it, since I was too feeble to do it. Definitely not an experience to repeat.

Then, marvelously, my loan funds had been disbursed! But wait... why was I receiving such a pittance? Oh yes, my residency hadn't come through yet. Never mind that I have hardly left this state, and have struggled through so many winters here. Never mind the hours I put in in Michigan elementary and high schools, and all the different jobs I've had, all of them in Michigan. Not to mention all the rent... Because I went to college in Ohio, lots of paperwork had to be filled out, and it hasn't been processed yet, so the class fees alone ate up almost all of the money.

I was really worried about getting into the French & Arabic classes. So, I went to see the head of the Arabic department to ask what my chances were. The teacher of the section I wanted happened to be meeting with him, and she immediately said, "Oh, that's my section! Yes, you can join." That was great, but my confidence was still lacking. Prof. R., the head of the department, asked whether I had studied Arabic before. "Yes... but just independently." I would have to take a proficiency test. When? On Thursday evening, at the same time as the monthly Carmelite meeting. How much more annoying could this week get? I certainly didn't want to miss the beginning of my new formation year. Was the test offered at any other time? No, it was only offered once a year. I wondered whether I really needed to take it. "This test is for everybody, not just for first year, for fourth year... we want to know what your level of proficiency is. ... Or maybe you don't want to study Arabic??" Oh fine, fine, of *course* I want to study Arabic... I was annoyed, he was annoyed.

Now I had a new set of worries. If I actually did pass out of the first level of Arabic, I would have to keep one of those other classes for sure, because 102 is not offered till next semester. On the other hand, Peoples of the Middle East and Islamic Art were pretty darn interesting. Maybe I should just keep those classes anyway... No! A struggle ensued.

Finally, late Friday afternoon, I found out that I was into both classes. I only got 18% on the proficiency test (the first one I've been thrilled to fail), and there was room for me in French as well. Time to thank and praise the Lord, whom I had been trying to trust all week long. I convinced myself that I would not have time to do the homework for Islamic art (or Islamicate art, as the professor prefers), but compromised by buying the books and coursepack so I could do the reading on my own... Hehe... sneaky. Actually registering was not so simple, since each time I clicked on the link, a blank page appeared, though sometimes if I used the back arrow, what I needed would show up!

After all this, it was annoying to watch myself getting concerned about the formation of each individual letter in my Arabic alphabet workbook. Amazing how a letter can stress you out when you've written it many times before. "Okay, just a hair to the right here... what if she thinks this looks too much like a 'j'?" Just *relax*, would you?

Today a cold is creeping up on me. Echinacea tea, immune defense orange juice with grapefruit seed extract, and a hot bath were in order. For once, the bath filled in less than 45 minutes, and the water was actually hot! Hallelujah!!!

Bored & Crazy

The other day I went to visit my grandfather in the nursing home where he spends most of the day dozing or wondering what he should really be doing, as he tells me. He does get out of bed into his wheelchair for meals, which he promptly forgets he ate as soon as the tray is removed.

Usually he talks about nothing much, or tells me little stories about his dogs and how he met my grandmother.

This time, however, he expounded upon the idea that he knew there was something else he should be doing, but he couldn't figure out what it was. I said, "That's because you're not supposed to be doing anything! You're retired!"

"That's why I kill old ladies," he said.

I laughed. There were certainly enough of them around in the nursing home, but there's no way he could have done such a thing even if he wanted to.

"Grandpa, you must be really bored!"

"What, to think up stuff like this?"

"Yes."

"Well, it's no worse than some of the people who come to visit me. Some of them are just crazy!"

"Like me?"

"Yeah."

"What's so crazy about me?"

"You came here!"

Ugarit

Last week I was pondering my situation before I went to sleep, trying not to think too hard about getting into my classes.

Before I woke up I had a vivid dream: it was the first day of classes, and I was anxious to appear and convince the professors that I should be included. First was the Arabic class. I showed up a little early (what a relief), and then gathered around the dimly lit and dusty table with the other serious scholars who, I thought, wanted to begin learning Modern Standard Arabic. Soon it became evident that the class was not what it was billed to be. The discussion was enthusiastic, but the professor and other students were rhapsodizing about their previous experiences together in classes studying Ugarit. By now they were all proficient Ugarit scholars, and would much rather spend this class time discussing ancient texts they were all familiar with. My angst mushroomed as I realized that none of these texts were in Arabic, they were all in Ugarit. I didn't want to learn Ugarit, and it was a waste of time to listen to other people discuss it. They informed me that the actual title of this class was "Ancient Arab Lifestyles," but they planned to disregard this. I almost despaired as I thought: is this the class that was really supposed to be Arabic 101, or is that meeting someplace else, and am I missing it??

That afternoon I tried to relax with a friend in my living room. We chatted while I mended a shirt. Meanwhile her husband arrived. He made his way to the bathroom, and I heard the shower begin running! As I was preparing to tie off the loose ends on the shirt, it hit me that I was supposed to be at the French class. In a panic, I looked at the schedule and saw that the class was meeting on a bridge between two places which I couldn't identify. I didn't have time to figure it out, I would just have to guess. As I explained everything to my friend, the ceiling began to pour water, but I didn't have time to handle this problem, and left her there.

I biked to the first bridge I could think of, and when I crossed it, saw a small group gathered on the grass. Mysteriously, even though it was past 9 p.m., there was still daylight. The serene, blonde professor said sweetly, "We are just getting started now, since we have several people arriving late!" Practically fainting with relief, I joined them.

The next morning, driving to my good-bye party for the job I just left, I apparently went through a stop sign by mistake, one that I stopped at every morning on my way to work. Obviously I wasn't paying attention, or I also would have seen the police car waiting to stop me. My first moving violation, after more than 10 years driving... the last thing I needed. On top of the dream, it just seemed like the last straw. Still waiting for things to get brighter...

Thoughts on nothing

Of course the only time when I would think of starting (or re-starting) a blog is when I have a little too much time on my hands. What to talk about- all the things on my mind are so off-putting!

I want to chronicle my plunge back into the world of school, replacing predictable work routines with classes and study. Will I be able to get into those classes? How much time will I have to spend studying? Will I find that as soon as I'm in an Arabic class, my desire to learn the language evaporates? At this moment it's at a low ebb.

I'm overwhelmed, I've been inundated with paperwork, practical details and stressful changes. Never in my life have I had trouble breathing unless I was sick; now I seem to have developed asthma! One more thing to deal with. It's hard to imagine memorizing vocabulary when I'm lightheaded and weak.

Non-degree status is definitely the pits. Not only am I not able to sign up for classes till they start; I am not eligible for federal loans, and the private loan I got can't be disbursed till after I register! Since I left my job to return to school, I will be in a lot of trouble if I can't register...

The blogs I started before were filled with my fantastical musings on different phenomena; now my life is so dramatic that I don't feel very fanciful. I would just like to have the next week over with, and know where I stand. If everything else could have just kept calm while I was going through this transition, it would have been so nice. However, it was not to be.