a sculpture garden

Standing at 54 feet tall, "Inhale, Exhale" a new sculpture that hugs against Miller Hall from the campus center side, imposes itself upon the students and faculty in all its minimalist glory. It is a sign of things to come, a changing of the times for the University of La Verne.

So as the giant Twizzler glaring down on you from outside of the campus center may be a symbol of ULV's continuing devotion to the arts, it sticks out like a sore thumb, and quite unattractively. It cuts off awkwardly at the top, and up close looks more like a hunk of fiberglass stabbed into the ground. A certain professor, (who shall not be named) feels it takes away from the historic nature of ULV, as it stands next the 90-something year old building, Miller Hall. Quite frankly, the sculpture stands awkwardly and the most common reaction from observers and passers-by seems to be, "what is that?" Maybe it is a lack of acknowledgement, or more so, explanation that has left most students to wander attentively past the sculpture, but either way "Inhale, Exhale" stands more as a symbol of confusion than one of progress. So with that, the sculpture garden will continue to grow and as with "Inhale, Exhale" and the other hunk of mazed-metal scrap (unsure of the name) that now sits outside the campus center, it will continue to inspire those feelings of "huh?"

The Good, the Bad, and the Downright Crazy

There are lots of professors at Laverne. Many more than I will ever have or will ever want to have. But, in my young sophomore age I think I have been through quite a lot of the craziest ones. In the Honors program, I took a class my Freshman year about French Feminism. It was co-taught, and one of the teachers, who shall remain nameless for her safety and for mine, was needless to say a bit eccentric. The second day of class she ran around pounding on the long white desks with her fist screaming "This is NOT a table!" at the top of her lungs. Come to find out, that very table was a cat. Go figure. The rest of my dumbfounded class and I had to listen to ridiculous lectures about barbie dolls and cat-tables till December. Another crazy teacher I had was also in the Honors program and he shall also remain nameless, although I can tell you he is very old, very kindly, very blind, and very very scary. If we didn't know the exact name of some unimportant person in some unimportant battle in the exact month of the exact year he was looking for...oh forget it (to quote him directly, in fact)! And this wasn't just top-of-your-head, easy common knowledge stuff. This was information only available if you took your Masters in the history of 1601-1602. Deep, nitpicky stuff. And the mere fact that we didn't understand Goethe's Faust, one of the hardest books to read EVER, brought him to tears. Literally tears. There is a certain English professor who will gladly talk to you about Star Wars for an hour, but will shove you out his door, desperately in search of the advising you came for in the first place, leaving you stuck to sort through all the classes alone with the Star Wars theme replaying in the back of your mind. There is an art teacher with a penchant for extremely un-accomplishable cardboard rock projects and a drama teacher who, even though you performed a two song musical, complete with costumes, live performances and DANCING, will still give you a B. And it wasn't even a drama class, but a lit/history one. And it was the first time you sang. In public. Ever. I am sure I will encounter many more teachers like this in the near future, and although they can be crazy, they are definitely never boring.

a run through the residential area of small-town la verne.

I went for a run today right before class. It was kind of annoying because since Thursday is pin attire day for Sigma Kappa, I'm supposed to be wearing my dressy clothes until 6 PM. This presented a predicament, because class started, as you all know, at 4:30. I couldn't decide where I should run, then shower and change back into my dressy clothes before class started, or if I should run and then just go to class in my workout clothes anyway, or just screw it all and take a nap.

I love living on campus because it presents the opportunity to literally do anything right before class.

Anyway, so I was running. And I dont really know where I'm going around here, because im definitely not from around here, so im sort of just aimlessly weaving through the residential streets. It's all good though - I get a nice look at everyone's decorations. Don't you just love those fake tombstones with the names like "Emma Ghoul" or "I.M. Gone" or whatever. They make me chuckle. I wonder who the first person to put up Halloween decorations was.. people probably thought that person was going way overboard. I mean, there's this holiday that everyone knows about, but only one person has spiders dangling from the windows and ghosts in the front yard. But, hey, obviously they were doing something right, because it caught on. Everyone does it these days, especially the La Vernians whose homes I pass by on my wierd route'd runs.

So I was running, and it made me think how I hate when i'm walking down the street in athletic gear. I mean, it makes me feel almost guilty because people expect more from me. Like, one time, I was walking to volleyball practice, so I was walking down the street in my workout shorts, workout shirt, and running shoes. There was this lady behind me, and she was running. When she passed me, I felt dumb, because I was walking behind her in all my workout gear as she jogged a little ways ahead of me. So what did I do?

I started jogging too.

But, of course, I had my backpack on, with a change of clothes and water bottles in it, so it was weighing me down, and by this point, I was running practically on her heels. She probably thought I was crazy.

But at least the cars driving by didn't think I was lazy!

Well, yeah. I decided to go for a run and forget about putting the dressy clothes back on, because by the time class is over, I technically won't have to be wearing them anyway. No one will ever know the difference.

I should be writing my midterm essay instead of...

So I like to think that I work better under pressure. Sometimes it's true, but that's besides the point. Whether I do or don't, the fact of the matter is that over the course of my college career, I have become, to some extent, a procrastinator. And I defend the "to some extent" because I don't leave EVERYTHING till the last minute, just dreadful homework like long take-home midterm essays, like today's.

I promised myself I was going to finish it last night before I went to bed and...I didn't keep my promise. Instead, I was tempted to drive home (after my field trip to the zoo with middle school kids for my service learning class) because my mom made caldo de res. To tell you the truth, it's not nearly one of my favorite dishes she makes but it was good enough for an excuse to avoid staying on campus to do my midterm. So I went home! While home on a random Wednesday afternoon, I cleaned my closet. Yes, I cleaned my closet, a weird and obsessive habit I have. I love organizing my closet and my drawers. It keeps me busy when I shouldn't be kept busy and it makes me feel good, on task, clean and it clears my mind; I love it.

It was soon 5:00 o' clock and my mom's soap opera was on so I sat with her to watch it. "Midterm, Angie...midterm" lurked my mind but I ignored it. It worked. A commercial for hot chocolate came on the t.v. and I mentioned I wanted some so my mom said she would make some while my sister and I went to the store to buy sweet bread to go with it.

8:00 o' clock came and I was out of soap operas. My little sister came home from cheer practice so I made my way into her room, anything to avoid my laptop and the novels laying on it.

At 9:00 pm I was happy to receive a surprise visit. My cousin and his wife came to visit and had some hot chocolate with us.

When they left, I was running out of excuses! Oh wait-no-I had the biggest time consuming excuse yet-I called my boyfriend. I talked for about an hour before I decided showering would also take up time. So I did.

By then, 11:00 o' clock, my boyfriend called me. I realized I did want to get some sleep so I actually took out my laptop and started writing my essay. It was running smooth when I started to get sleepy. It was a shame, because I did have some good ideas at that time but I really wanted to go to sleep.

I promised myself (like I had any other choice) that I would work on it the following day since it was due until 6:30 for my night class.

To make my long story short, I finished my assignment at 3:00 pm or so but not before browsing through E-bay, checking my e-mail ten times, and grabbing some coffee.

Next time, I will promise myself to start my assignment the day it is assigned-isn't that what everyone does??

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