Saturday

I have recently taken up blog-stalking a photography major freshly graduated from Point Loma. This life-filled artist intricately documents her engagement and wedding shoots through a mixture of pictures and stories that really just make me want to cry...with joy, but also not a small amount of self pity. Ha. Her latest love story? Her own. More tears...and maybe a little more envy. In realizing that my little freshman life as a math major just sort of pales in comparison to this fairytale she paints, as well as my general ability to act as a storyteller, I have sort of begun to question the significance of this page. But then, everyone's gotta start somewhere, right? :)

While said woman is off living said dream life, I am sitting in Starbucks, attempting to write an "Intellectual Autobiography." I wish it was as cool as it sounds; basically, I'm just regurgitating my political development throughout the course of the semester for my Political Science 101 class. In eight pages...ugh. How, you might ask, did I end up at Starbucks on a Saturday, devoid of any transportation? (Even if you are not wondering about this whatsoever, it is a tale worth telling.) So here goes:

I woke up with the intention of getting this paper done TODAY. Now, in the dorms (and, as I've found, even in the library) this just doesn't seem possible. I end up finding friends or meeting new ones and becoming hopelessly distracted. Clearly, no matter where I go I can't avoid distraction since I have somehow found my way to Blogspot once again..... Anyways, I decided I wanted to be alone for a while to gather whatever political opinions I may have (negative) and try to finish one of my final assignments. So, Starbucks it was. As a freshman, your only option to get around...besides rarely merciful upperclassmen...is taking the shuttle. However, I confused my times and apparently it doesn't start running until two o'clock on weekends, which is much too late; I decided I'd make the mile or so walk down to Rosecrans instead. As I was about to start the hike, I ran into my friend Bri who lives on my hall and told her of my plan. Ever so graciously, she pulls out her keys and offers to let me use her bike. Score, right?

Well, what I discovered ironically attached to the "No Parking" sign outside of Nease was a burnt orange, 60's esque masterpiece...complete with rust, a fancy white basket, and a bell, but somehow lacking brakes. I wish I was joking. To make things even more of an adventure, the ride was almost completely downhill since Loma is situated as the penthouse of San Diego. I am still thanking God that weaving through the "bike lane" of parked cars at 134 mph didn't result in any sort of accident--trusting my hat and my book-stuffed backpack for sole protection.

But, alas, here I am. Oops, I mean we. Wouldn't want to leave Little Miss Sunshine out. Without further ado though, I'd better finish this short novel and start the one that's actually due. :) See all you Olympians so so soon!