I'm really sad today, because I realized that I am missing watching Inspector Lynley with my parents. (And that they are probably not watching it either).
Oh well, let that be the worst thing that ever happens to me.
Last night had its ups and downs. We were corralled into a presentation on public and fire safety, which was that lethal combination of informative and dull. It was directly followed by a panel on diversity which featured a bad presenter and over-long comments by the students chosen to represent various minority groups on campus. It seemed counter productive, because instead of highlighting the wonderful things to be gained from a racially, politically, economically, and socially diverse campus it seemed to dwell on what made its upperclassman presenters different.
To be fair, the one deaf student presenter was totally amazing, and his interpreter was a really talented guy. When I, who unfortunately don't know any sign language, can understand jokes in sign language and not even realize that I'm hearing a translation of them, I tend to be impressed.
That was the highlight of the evening, however, and what followed (small discussion groups) seemed to be a rehashed and condensed version of my entire senior year and the Great Damn-Big-Midwestern-University-High Diversity Controversy. A lot of people had great things to say, but I felt really depressed that I was mentally tuning them out because of poorly reasoned argument's I've heard in the past. I'm not sure how I can get around this. Maybe more exposure? The one question I really loved and offered an answer for was, "Is inaction one of the worst sins you can commit?" I'm paraphrasing but that was the gist. One of my favorite quotes was brought up:
"First the Nazis came…
First they came for the communists, and I did not speak out—
because I was not a communist;
Then they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—
because I was not a socialist;
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—
because I was not a trade unionist;
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
because I was not a Jew;
Then they came for me—
and there was no one left to speak out for me." --Martin Niemöller
It is important to say when something is bothering you or is offensive to you because then you are drawing a line, and the earlier the line is drawn the better.
Following the small group discussion most of us went up to the LGBT Center for ice cream and I ran into one of the other leaders from CA that had the same glasses as me. His are red, though. Now there's diversity for you.

Day Three in Gangland
Tuesday was one of the days we'd all been waiting for, because it was the day of the back to school event. It was a complete success and I manned the bubble station with pride, blowing bubbles with little girls until they started losing interest, at which point I floated over to the beanbag toss where this little 2-year old cute Hispanic boy with no English whatsoever tried to tell me something. I felt guilty that I couldn't communicate with him and brought him over to the bubbles where he seemed to enjoy himself. Back at the beanbag toss a group of boys had formed apparently intending to woo me with their powerful baseball throws. I was not impressed as they broke the target and generally terrorized a little girl walking by who almost lost an eye.
Luckily at this point I was called inside to help distributing backpacks, which was great, hectic, and satisfying. We gave out 60 backpacks brimming with school supplies and an additional 48 plastic bags with the same combination of supplies in them.
Following the event, two fellow frosh, LeaderWhoCannotDrive, and I were dragged over to a local TV/Radio station where we were interviewed by Pastor Karen on her weekly radio show. This was nerve wracking, but fine in the end. My acting skills kicked in and apparently I didn't appear nervous or ineloquent (both of which I felt) at all. But more on watching it later.
We rushed back to the church to meet up with another group for minigolf, but not before we got lost twice, almost drove the wrong way down a one-way street, and nearly ran over the mafia (or if it wasn't them I don't know who it was: vaguely Italian looking, freshly scrubbed men in black with gold crosses?). Minigolf was dead boring. There were no pirates. No extra-large vikings. There was no dyed-blue water. This was executive minigolf, A SERIOUS COURSE FOR SERIOUS PEOPLE. Nowhere was this posted, but it was clear when we were almost thrown out for not wearing polo shirts.
Welcome, Nom de Plume, welcome to Princeton.

to be continued....

This morning was great in general, despite my Lynley-less feeling of malaise.
I went on a bike ride along the tow path, read under a tree for an hour, took a tour of the library, applied for a creative writing course, and hung my posters.
Hope everyone is doing well!