Dusting

It’s interesting what can jog memories. I grabbed some rags to do 10 minutes of dusting. One of the rags was a piece of an old t-shirt from college.

tshirt

It’s been seventeen and a half years since I got this shirt from my freshman year dorm. Those of us who lived in Allen Hall know what a special place it is. I lived there for only one year, yet a hearty 10% of my Facebook friends also lived in that dorm (if you’re curious about the rest of my FB breakdown: 40% is Patrick’s family; .10% is my family; 98% are 100% awesome).

Today, as my timer counted down my 10 minutes of rag time, I thought about the person who used to wear that t-shirt, and what I miss about her.

Firstly, she didn’t need to sleep much. When she did sleep it was deeply, and anywhere. Any. where. The commons area outside the dining hall. A couch in the Union building. Classrooms. She napped like no one was watching – even though often times someone was.

Secondly, she read. A lot. Multiple novels in a week, and always one in French. Sometimes older, formal French. She scribbled in margins, poured over language, and thought about symbolism. She even talked her way into a Middle English survey course (in retrospect, she realized the T.A. accommodated that request because they both had shaved heads). Friday nights before she fell asleep on the aforementioned couch in the Union building, she read Shakespeare.

Thirdly, she was a freaking force. She didn’t much care if the audience didn’t like her hairy legs, or her re-gifted patchwork shorts, or her soft public snoring. She was too bust being awesome and knowing awesome people.

When I think about her, sometimes I am sad. I’d like to be a little less khaki and a little more Manic Panic. I’d like back some of that adventurous spirit, which opened me to finding other adventurous souls

I don’t seek in the way I used to. Sometimes I wonder if this is a product of age. But many of my Allen Hall friends (and others) are lifetime seekers. They are always learning, deepening their understanding of something or other – arts, architecture, religion, politics, social problems. And they’re all…passionate about it and stuff.

Goddess love ya, oh passionate seekers! I’ll be over here dusting if you need me.

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3 Responses to Dusting

  1. anastasia says:

    This gave me full body chills for a long time. Seeking comes in many guises. Some louder, some quieter. If you are a seeker, it will always be there, working inside you. ❤

  2. Kitty says:

    I feel that disconnect with my former self sometimes too. But you were way more adventurous than I ever was! And you still are 🙂

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