castles made of sand

The end of a Quarter at Clark always inspires ‘over-the-horizon’ behavior not unlike Wizard of Oz. The people who make flyers and posters, and hand out free food often like to mark the end of a Quarter as a milestone. And while we don’t go that far, The Independent does do little things, usually only a banner though.

The most the end of a Quarter ever meant for me was a brief chance to get some actual sleep, attempt to do some things on my ‘Super Magic Fun Time World Domination’ checklist, and hope I didn’t fail any of my classes.

Seriously, I’m really looking forward to sleeping in for a few days. I think when it comes to going to bed at a decent hour, I’m a masochist. I know that I’m going to have to get up at the crack of dawn, but I always end up going to bed at 2 or 3. This strangely extended spring break we’re all getting is going to be spent walking around Portland and enjoying criminally long naps.

You know, I still haven’t heard a satisfactory reason why this Quarter was shortened so much. The Quarter started later and is ending sooner than previous Quarters. I’m not really complaining, it means less class time, but if Clark was going to make a major change in the length of their curriculum, shouldn’t have there been a memo? Still, if it means two whole weeks of Spring Break, it can’t be bad.

This Quarter saw a lot of things on campus change. For instance, the remodeling of Gaiser Hall, which I think started last winter, is finally done. The building is completed, and the poor middle management types that were banished to the T-Building will probably spend their two weeks dragging their stuff back to this side of the road. We have maps and markers on campus and in the parking lots. Personally, I think that color coordinated parking lot system is rather cloying, but I sort of approve. The signs though are a bit weird.

While walking to class today, I came across two maps. In one map, north was south, Gaiser was on the bottom and Bauer, Baird and AA5 was on the top. This makes sense because it’s facing the direction a student is walking. However, all my on the fly logic escaped me when I saw another sign next to the Science building in which North was left and South was right. Gaiser was on the left side of the map and Bauer was on the right. This makes no sense and I also begs the question, ‘Who the hell designed these things?’.

Anyway, on a more local note, next quarter will be different because we won’t have Rachel or Rylan here anymore. It’ll be weird, but as long as Joanna doesn’t abuse her new power and keeps Chris in check, things should be fine.

People in this culture don’t make eye contact. When you try, they seem to become immediately fascinated by their fingernails or a new development on their shoes. I wonder why this is? I spent a bit of time on the balcony outside the ASCC, the one above the entrance to Archer Gallery. I kept trying to make eye contact with the people below who were looking up, but every time I made a connection, they broke off.

I’ll be the first to admit being far too introspective, but we’ve lost the ability to make connections with people. I don’t know how, I can only guess. One of my theories has to do with our mode of entertainment. We don’t need to go out to the movie theater or the bookstore to be entertained. We can get all of that information, that culture, from home. We don’t even need to leave our homes to eat or work. We can do that all from the comforts of our homes. Maybe this is why our social muscle has atrophied.

Another theory that I have is that people’s aversion to eye contact has nothing to do with our culture, but more to the point our personality; what we think is normal. We betray so much of our emotion and thought through our eyes. We can be read in an instant by one single, actual glance into our eyes. This aversion to eye contact then becomes a self-defense mechanism. We avert our gaze so that other people can’t look at us, look into us.

But this begs another question, why do we fear being understood? If my life, the lives of my friends, and my family are any indication, the average person in this country is relatively good, if a little misguided. Great acts of evil, shame, and guilt are rare, but we all carry this perceived weight on our shoulders, as if we’re ashamed at being alive. These little transgressions that we make in our daily lives are small, but we enlarge them and punish ourselves for them by carrying the weight. We as a people need to learn how to forgive each other, and how to live without turning our heads away from each other.

But while we’re demanding the impossible, I’d like a helicopter, a tropical island with a pirate fortress, and an education that won’t put me into debt for the rest of my life.