Philly-dunphya

Well, it's been like maybe a whole year since I wrote a new post, but I've just finished my sixth semester of school and I've got a little bit of unexpected down time- I was scheduled to begin an internship in England this week, but due to some minor issues with my visa, that has been pushed till next Monday, and I am stranded in the historically phenomenal, albeit sometimes terrifying, city of Philadelphia! For a week! (That's right- a whole week.)

Though, at first, this seemed like a real setback, it's turning out to have a few pro's: firstly and foremostly, Philadelphia is one of the greatest cities on earth for a history major like myself. I mean, I walked past Independence Hall today like it was no big deal. Try not to mind my Nicholas Cagey-ness here, but if you're a person as passionate about American history as I am (I understand that the odds are that you're probably not, but you may be pretty close), standing at the corner of Chestnut and Independence Mall is breathtaking. All I could think about, walking around the building, was that inevitably, I was walking the same walk as Thomas Jefferson walked in 1776 and that James Madison walked eleven years later to present his ideas for American government that evolved into the Constitution. Inside those windows, real people sat and debated and produced a brilliant and time-tested, if deeply flawed, document.

Yeah so there was that. I have a whole list of other must-sees from a professor who did his post-doc here in Philly at U-Penn's McNeil Center for Early American Studies. Meaning that he lived here and did history here and should basically be a pro at giving must-see lists, which is why I asked.

And I tried some other things for the first time today, too- I HAILED A FREAKIN' CAB LIKE A FREAKIN' NEW YORKER. Okay, the first time it was wimpy, and it was 9 am and the driver saw me and wanted my business and whatever. But then I did it a bunch more times throughout the day, and then finally, when I ended up on the other side of town after dark all alone (don't tell my Mom), I did it. I stopped a cab going way fast down Lombard and hailed him over and SUCCEEDED. And felt pretty cool about myself.

Also, I had a cheesesteak from Jim's on South Street, which is, as I found out while waiting in line for it, a very famous establishment. And the thing was delicious, ok? They aren't kidding. Not a lot of things more American than a cheesesteak. I ate it from the top floor of the place and watched the night life creep out in this weird little corner of the world.

After the cheesesteak/taxi adventure, I came back up to my swanky hotel here in the heart of this fine city, and found that the Braves/Reds game was actually being shown on TV! And I watched it! And I watched Kimbrell for the first time this season! (Utah doesn't really show Braves games ever, you know?) Good to see my boys, especially playing at Turner Field, an element of home that I am always nostalgic about.

Let me backtrack for a minute and make sure I crank out the actual reason that I'm even in Philadelphia in the first place, though- this really should have been my priority, but consider all this other stuff to be a build-up. 

Truth is, I had a really freaking cool opportunity this past semester to participate in the McNeil Center's Undergraduate Research Workshop. Basically, a few months ago a professor approached me about submitting a research prospectus for a paper that I would, then, spent the semester writing. I proposed a paper about the transparency of Br'er Rabbit folklore as literary, day-to-day slave resistance. In February, I flew to Philadelphia for a meeting with several other undergrads, as well as graduate students (who are current fellows with the McNeil Center here at Penn) who would serve as individual mentors to our projects. There, we hashed out our general plans and our mentors (as well as faculty advisers) offered feedback and guidance for the projects. 

Somewhere between that day and this day, I researched and wrote my paper, and yesterday, flew back into Philly for a seminar and dinner with the other participants. The seminar took place in the Historical Society here in Pennsylvania, which is a beautiful library, and I have to admit that at that point, I was kindof thinking a lot of myself for even being in the room with the scholars who were there. We had dinner at a very urban Indian restaurant and I, for the second time in the same day, turned down a beer (for religious purposes), and felt kindof excited and cool that I was doing it (because in order to turn down a beer, you have to be offered a beer... I really am 21 after all!) 

This morning, I woke up and got ready in my weird little upscale hotel room, cabbed it over to McNeil, and actually really enjoyed a morning of presentations made by myself and three other, very talented undergraduates. If I can justify myself in saying this, I think I did pretty well- and several of the faculty and students there agreed with me. Frankly, all four papers were quite good. And that, in itself, was really cool. I found myself asking questions and contributing to discussions and, you know, felt, as I seem to feel ALL THE TIME these days, that I have truly discovered a niche in this world for which I am just unceasingly passionate. I can honestly say (and I do say, maybe too often if I'm being honest) that I love what I do. I LOVE what I do. The rewards just never seem to stop coming. It didn't hurt, either, that Dan Richter, the current head of Penn's history department, sent us off with some very kind words about us being inspirational for the older historians in the room, and stuff... it was lots of good like that. 

I am very grateful, and will wear my oversized McNeil t-shirt to bed, with pride. 

What a day. What a freaking great day. 

The truth is, everyone out there is hurting just a little bit. I think we all have things that keep us up at night. Somehow, there is a peace in knowing that wherever you are, you are really always in good company.

Maybe simply because it seems so welcoming, Memory Lane is a dangerous place; a place always haunted with things that once were and things that might have been.

In one of those instances where pretty words mask an ugly truth, Soren Kierkegaard wrote, "life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards." One day at a time, step-by-step, life must be lived forwards.

It's funny sometimes, the things that can jog a memory, and how fast feelings that have been hidden for a long time can flit in your face as if they never left. Fear. Uncertainty. Living one day at a time is an act of bravery. It is not easy. It is to surrender to the immutable force that is time, and to understand how limited understanding can be.

Every day is a move forward, away from what once was and toward what is. What is behind is behind, and it moves forward, too. At times we find love, and love carries us and holds us. But if it should grow weary and strained, it leaves behind memory alone. And memory, without love's certainty and security, is an empty skeleton.

We embark upon a forward march, driven by the impossibility of returning to what we once knew; we are, with every morning, as new as every day. Toward making history instead of dwelling in it:

TBF

How to Cope With Winter

Dear Mr. Frost, 

I'm pretty sure the world is ending now...

ice won out.

 

 
 

I'm so sad of winter!!!!!!!!! 

Provo's winter has been one of the longest and coldest on record. I have started going a little batty! I've learned that it's much easier to get through the (freezing) days if I've got fun things to look forward to.

 

First of all... My roommates celebrated Mardi Gras with me!!

 

And I got a new puppy... 

 

And went on a little tiny shopping therapy trip...

 

 

And had some yummy barbecue...

 

And have had lots of fun adventures with a pretty cute boy...

So. Winter has been bearable.

But, really... I'M READY FOR SPRING. 

February Song...

It's been quite a time here lately. As usual, school is keeping me pretty busy! Rather than posting on my blog, I really should be working on a paper. (Paper 3 of 8... gulp.) I am liking my classes this semester, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel a little incompetent about once every class period... phew. Working hard for sure.

I'm excited about a research project I wiggled my way into. The L. Tom Perry Special Collections here at BYU has recently acquired a set of letters passed between a West Virginia family during the Civil War. Brothers Burgess, Albert, George, and Gavin write to a sister, Mary, about their experiences on both sides of the war. (Two are Confederates, two are Unionists.) They keep the letters in "the vault" (I don't really know what "the vault" is, but that's what they keep telling me) so I can only access them at certain times on certain days...but it's rather exciting. I'm going to be doing a little bit of transcription and trying to fit this family into the larger scene of divided Civil War families as a case study.

ANYWAY, other than that I'm spending my days outside of the testing center (thank goodness) and inside of my apartment, huddling from the cold and type-type-typing away at many papers.

Which reminds me. It's been a record-breaking cold winter and I am going to SCREAM if it lasts any longer! Groundhog day came with great anticipation and I was happy enough with Punxatawnie Phil to kiss him. And when you're desperate enough for sunshine to kiss a rodent...well. 'Nuff said. (I'm trying not to think about the fact that he lives in Punxatawnie and not Provo...)

Life goes on.

Sleep is for sheep

I'd probably be more elaborate if it wasn't so late. It's a night wherein sleepiness is not really counteracting not being able to fall asleep. If you are anything of a regular visitor, you know by now that it is in these middle-of-the-night hours that I do my best thinkin'. And such have I been doing in the past hour or so.

Last October, I got herded onto a roller coaster that was much bigger and badder than any that I was prepared for; like being pushed into the wrong line, I found myself and my life living in a context that wasn't any more familiar than it was planned. In the last three months, there has been fear; intense fear. For some time, I saw a loop coming that looked like it was going to hurt me, and yet I couldn't run away from it; I was strapped in. I tried to hang on to the handlebars--to anything--but the handles moved with me and with a swiftness and scariness unlike anything I've ever really felt before, the loop came. I felt scared, and even sick for days at a time, and after a month or two, I woke up and my clothes didn't fit anymore.

Alongside the fear, there has been a parallel excitement; anticipation and the realization that new can be good, even though different can be hard. There is sage wisdom in looking forward. We are the products of our pasts but the potentials of our futures.

I keep telling my roommates: it's amazing how drastically life can change, in such short amounts of time. And it is. But I'm looking forward and opening my heart to new things, and growing because of it.

#Flight.
TBF

MY BEST FRIEND'S WEDDING!

Dear small circle of blog-readers,

My winter break has pressed on. I am starting week 3 of 3, which will be full of adventures, family time, packing, and flying up on back to P-town.

The most exciting event having transpired since last post is the wedding of my dear friend and now ex-roommate Darry Berry Barnett, who is now Darry Berry Hancock!

Here are Darian and Brad right as they came out of the St. Louis, Missouri temple. We so proud of her :]. And isn't she so pretty? Several of the temple workers came into the room where those of us who could not be in the sealing room of the temple (reserved only for endowed members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) were sitting. This included Miriam and I, plus Darian's two sisters, Sasha and Katya; both of her sets of grandparents, an aunt and an uncle, and some of Brad's siblings- and anyway, the temple workers all told us over and over what a beautiful bride she was!

 

 "KISS HER!"

This is just Miriam and I, I wish I had a better picture of all four bridesmaids. (I keep stalking facebook, waiting for the REAL pictures to pop up but so far, no luck...)

 

Aaaaannnddd... at the end of the night, when Miriam and I were helping hold the dress in it's bag... we maybe had to try on the veil... haha.

 

So congratulations, Darian and Brad. We are all so happy for you; it was a very sweet, special milestone day that y'all will remember forever. It must have shown on my face that I was just a little bit sad about giving away my roommate to Brad, because more than one member of Darian's family came to assure me that I'd still see her all the time- And it's definitely true.

Love and luck, we will be there in Provo to help set up the new apartment!! <3

TBF

(Bridesmaid edition)