I didn't really do much work this weekend. But then again, there wasn't (past-tense, noted) much stuff to study for in the first weekend of the semester.
So my guitar strap brought sand from Scarborough Beach
back to my dorm, while the extra spacetime shoved itself onto Miller's mileage. (sorry I totally missed the 108 South junction.)
And my conscience got slightly (can I stress the slightness?) intoxicated with a bottle of beer as I watched She's the Man
with a couple of (underaged, but sober) freshmen, post saltwater bathing and cafeteria dining.
But to hear our Crusade campus director say he got teary-eyed when he saw how the first-years (and the rest of us) were 'getting it' ("it" being the Great Commission
), that reminded me of how church is bigger than a brickwalled building, so much more than Sunday, stretching farther than four-hour Friday-night gatherings.
Today, I realised my professor threw upon us 109 pages of 'required reading' for tomorrow's lecture. To which I say, "C'mon, it's stuff I should already know, with more than enough detail that your powerpoint refuses to cover." Besides, it's actually an uncorrected proof of another vision text
.. with missing pictures and chapter references...
But between "spatial-temporal resolution of retinal neurons" and good 'ole Gertrude Stein's Tender Buttons (see last post), my mind finds both right at the edges of enjoyable comprehension.