The Art of the Saturday

There are a million reasons why I love living in the house oppose to the dorm like AKA cement block coldness. But one in particular that makes the experience of house life even better is the concept of Saturday.

Saturday in the dormitories never felt right. I had to shuffle downstairs to the empty cafe and scrounge some milk and cereal, eat alone at my desk, and eventually would make my way over to the house I reside at now, because it did become my second home. Saturdays are one of my favorite days at home because, frankly, anything can happen! Projects take place, shopping outings are made, relatives are visited, relatives visit us, you know the drill. Best part is summer hits the area and the evenings are spent on the front porch admiring the fresh-cut grass as the lightning bugs make their way out onto the playing field as dusk approaches.

Saturdays are perfect for spontaneity at the house. I endlessly change my plans throughout the day, even hating to make a decision to do something. From Erie to the afternoon jog, the house life is so much warmer. Breakfast is at a table with people I love. Breakfast can be eggs, or cereal, or even oatmeal. The morning can be spent reading. The night can be spent on movies or a trip.

Saturdays- they're great days.

Have I Mentioned?

It's funny how just a few words can make your day. For instance, have I mentioned how hilarious my brother is? In his latest blog, he left me bent over laughing in the empty lab. These are the words of the Ridgwaian sage:

"In a total unrelated topic, I think a lot of the ladies are going on the fake n' bake circuit getting ready for spring break to show off their redness to complete strangers on the beach. Have fun with the artificial sunlight ladies."

The kicker of the situation is that I've been debating about this whole "tanning escapade" that has swept campus since spring has sprung. It's the annual fake bake season where the girls are golden while it's still snowin'.

I believe what frustrates me the most as a 100% albino creature, is that white skin is subjected as something else. It denotes laziness, unattractiveness, and a hermit lifestyle in the summer months. Apparently, those who are tan feel more confidant, athletic, so the magazines rave. I don't understand why white skin is a concept that appears to be socially beat with the ugly stick.

I don't especially like to pick fun at those tanning-hungry individuals that enjoy a nice period of relaxation because it is a choice, much like eating pint of ice cream or something along those lines. You could even read between the lines and say that I would tan if I was capable. But on the other hand, would I? Who's to say what that answer would be. But for now, embracing whiteness is the tightness. Its taking the skin we're in, being a steward of it, and taking what the Creator has given to us, and being thankful.