Archive for September, 2008

Sometimes education can make you forget…

Thursday, September 18th, 2008

There is this quote by Walter Bagehot that I found once, and I think it is can be true, though I value education for other reasons too. “Perhaps the most valuable result of all education is the ability to make yourself do the thing you have to do, when it ought to be done, whether you like it or not.” My mom is a teacher after all. I can’t say I don’t value education. However, I do think education can force you to do things you don’t like, and sometimes it makes you forget the things you do like or forget why you like things. Being done with school for all of three months, I’m going to give my take on this.

Most days now, I ride the bus to and from work (though I’ve walked a couple times this week), so rather than worry about fighting traffic or getting somewhere the most quick way I can (I have no control over these things when I’m on the bus, so there’s no point in thinking about them), I can use my time to read. Lots of people don’t understand how anyone could choose to ride public transportation, but I find it quite enjoyable. I get to listen to my music and read my book. I know for some it doesn’t make sense (Christi’s mom takes 15 minutes to drive to work, and it would take her an hour and an hour and a half to get to and from work, respectively, on Louisville’s bus system). But for me, it’s worth it to wake up 15 minutes earlier and take about a half-hour to get to work (including walking to the bus stop and waiting for the bus), not only cost-wise, but also because it gives me time to read (and helps the environment). I also read during lunch. I bring my lunch to save money, but it also saves me time. Now right now, I’m writing in my blog instead of reading, but it’s still time used during my lunch break.

Anyway, back to the original concept of this entry, I had forgotten how much I loved to read, just to be reading, while I was in school. Especially at Oxford, I was constantly reading, but it was always for something else, not for my own pleasure. It was for a test or for a paper, and whenever I did take breaks I watched TV instead of reading because I was tired of reading. And I never got to read for fun. The few times I did, I felt guilty for not studying instead. So now I’ve been reading for fun. And it makes me so happy. It puts me in a good mood when I can just relish in the fact that not only do I have time to read, but I really do enjoy reading. I had missed getting so involved in a book that I didn’t want to do anything else but read. I missed getting absorbed into the world of the book and forgetting my surroundings, reading outside on a sunny day but being convinced that it was rainy because of the torrential downpour happening in my book. And now I have that again.

I’ve apparently also missed writing for fun because I’m rambling on, so I’ll stop now. Just wanted to remind people to try not to forget the things you truly love to do because its just makes life better to do those things and enjoy them. Or do forget and then get reminded so you can have a restoration of sorts. I find it very beneficial in enjoying life.

Very Traumatic Event

Wednesday, September 17th, 2008

So I got trapped in my bathroom the other night.

The door to our bathroom always stuck a little at the top, so I decided one evening to be productive and fix it by sanding the top of the door and the door frame. And then we wouldn’t have to make a big noise yanking the door open whenever we came out of the bathroom. Christi wasn’t home. Kyle had just called and said he had gotten done with a meeting early. So I was going to start dinner and he was going to come over. But I thought I could do this really quickly before I started cooking and still have time before Kyle got there. So I stood on the toilet next to the door and sanded it some. I thought I had gotten quite a bit of the paint off the top of the door, so I thought I would try and see if I had fixed it. For some reason, I decided to close the door from the inside of the bathroom. I shut the door, and then pulled, and the bottom came out a bit, but the top of the door was wedged. Somehow I seemed to have made it worse. I pulled a lot until my neck sort of spasmed. Then I decided I should stop.

Of course, I had set my phone on the dresser outside the bathroom after Kyle had called, so I couldn’t contact anyone. I just kept thinking, at least Kyle is on his way, and luckily, he has an extra set of keys to my apartment. Our neighbors were in their backyard watching TV or playing the radio really loudly (that’s what they do). So I considered opening the window and yelling down to them, not that they could do anything because the door to the apartment was locked. Finally, I resigned myself to waiting.

When I first moved in, I had put a CD player in our bathroom for Christi and me to play music when we get ready, so I put in Christi’s Coldplay CD (calming music), and I tried the door every few minutes, just thinking maybe if I let it rest it would pop right open. It didn’t. So I washed my face, rearranged some carpet. Then I decided to do Satin Hands because I had it in there. Then I did Satin Hands on my feet. Then I found a pencil and my hair dryer manual and wrote a note that said, “I’m stuck in here. Don’t think I’m just using the bathroom,” and I slid it under the door, in case I didn’t hear someone come in. Then I turned down the music some to prevent that from happening.

Finally I heard our black gate slam, and Kyle came in and yelled up. And I yelled, and told him I was stuck in the bathroom. I knew the door could be opened from the outside because of how it was stuck at the top, as long as someone could pound on it, rather than pulling on it. So Kyle pounded once, and it opened. He was my knight in shining armor. It was very traumatic, and I will probably never go into our bathroom without my cell phone. However, I did fix it later that night, taking a box cutter blade to it, instead of just sand paper. Now it opens smoothly, as long as the door knob is turned all the way (which sometimes it isn’t).

Christi got home around 11, so if Kyle hadn’t come, I wouldn’t have had to sleep in the bathroom at least. We discussed the possibility of it being our little girl ghost trapping me or just my bad luck with doors. At G-town, our doorknob fell off multiple times and our deadbolt got stuck out, so the door couldn’t close. And something happened to my door in England too. So I’m pretty sure it’s just me. Multiple doors in this apartment are pretty tricky too. So that’s my funny story for a little while.