Sunday, August 19, 2012

one bearing white; the other, red

Surprises are the best. 
Really, they are.
(Especially the ones that you know are coming. Those are the absolute best. The ones that take you by surprise are a little harder to handle. [Being in control. It's a thing.])

I was reminded of the beauty of surprises when I walked into my quad and I found, instead of my three roommates, two guys sitting in our common room (our nascent little common room is beautiful! Lake views and everything). And I was like: Hi. And they're like: Hi. And I'm like: My name's Renée and I live here. How about you? And then we chit-chatted a bit. I was surprised by their presence and caught off guard so I forgot to be a good hostess. But if I'd known they were coming, I would have put on my First Lady Hostess Extraordinaire hat and offered them Nutella. I should learn to always be ready for surprises. 
[Author's Disclaimer for Her Mother: And don't worry, Mom, they were my quadmate's boyfriend's roommates. So, basically family. I don't find strangers in my room on a regular basis. Fear not.]

Responses. Always surprising.
Sometimes you are sure you're going to hear words coming out of your brother's mouth. And then you hear the exact opposite. People, amiright? Just endlessly doing the opposite of what you expect them to be doing. How fascinating.

I thought I was gonna have to carry the fridge out of the storage unit the way it came in--in my arms/being dragged across the cement floor. Things were going to be complicated by my long white skirt. Whoops. Sometimes I forget to think ahead. [Got prudence?] 
But, then a man just walks into the storage unit hallway, and asks me if I need help. I just sort of gape at him and then say: why, thank you, yes I could. And then I continue to mentally gape at him while he helps me carry it out of the creepy storage unit hallway. (it's an all-white, metallic feeling hallway with flourescent lights and clearly visible security cameras. It feels like an insane asylum. As the Phantom of the Opera would say: "In a word: sublime.")
Color me surprised.

And destinations. The most surprising.
Who knew that a Friday evening spent running around the lakes and chapel crawling would end with me crash-landing on the snuggly floor of a Howard dorm room eating Nutella and rolling with laughter? And who knew that encounter plus a series of well-timed texts would lead to a car caravan of Visionites winding their way through the treacherous night streets of South Bend to find our way to the last homely house on the corner, where we then proceeded to eat more Nutella and laugh even harder.

And who knew if you looked up at the night sky, you'd see stars?

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