why change is a good thing

After I accepted my invitation, I looked at a calendar and realized that I had less than two months to do everything that I wanted to do before I left for Malawi, so basically I quit my job and have been visiting as many relatives as humanly possible for the past few weeks.

As you can imagine, it has been a blast. Since I last posted (blogged?) I:

-Drove cross country to do Habitat for Humanity with my beautiful cousin Courtney this was actually planned before receiving my invitation, but was nonetheless friggin sweet

-Visited my Busha (for the first time in about two years) I fixed the aspect ratio on her TV and ironed her work shirts in exchange for DeLuca's Pizza- WORTH IT

-Visited Piotr in Detroit who says you need to join the Peace Corps to visit the third world?

-Went to Saugatuck one last time to pick up Carrie's birthday present Shh... it's a seceret

-Partied/drank at all my favorite East Lansing haunts more on this later

-Gone to Schuler's Bookstore an embarrassing amount of times what will I possibly do without Schulers?! This store practically raised me!

I almost feel like I'm dying and am somehow trying to cram everything I love about my life here in the United States into an eight-week span. I guess what I'm trying to say is that this is the most fun/slightly sad vacation ever.

If I don't see you before I leave, I'm sorry- I truly am, I'm trying to arrange to see everyone I am related to or love before I go, but sometimes things don't work out.

Now that I have been sufficiently sappy, let me explain why I am maybe not so sad after all that I am leaving. Because I am Melissa, I choose to relate my point in a long drawn out story that doesn't seem to relate to anything until the very end, when you find out that it maybe relates to what I was talking about, but not really, and then you are frustrated.

Ahem.

For the past few days, I have been sleeping on my little brother's couch in East Lansing. It is the first week of classes at Michigan State, so all of my not-yet-graduated friends and relations are in time and free to hang out in the evenings. In short, it is the perfect time to visit.

Anyway, after burgerama at the Riv last night, and the post-bar zombie shooting at Pinball Pete's, I went back to Chris' couch, and fell asleep after watching about an hour of Adult Swim. Basically, it was the perfect college night.

Later, my brother's roommate came home with a girl, and they stayed up until all hours of the night talking in the other room, and using the bathroom with the door open. This, though a little annoying, was fine, because after all, I was a guest on the couch, and, well, whatever. I pretended to be asleep.

After a few hours, I heard a knocking on the back door. It was somebody I'd never met before, but my brother's roommate seemed to know him, so I figure everything is kosher, and I, once again, pretend to be asleep.

Soon I am joined on the L shaped sectional couch by this newcomer, and, in the spirit of letting bygones be bygones, I (still) pretend to be asleep... until he tries to share my pillow, when I flip so that we are lying with my feet near his head. Now that I have revealed myself to be awake, the newcomer strikes up a conversation. How did you end up on the couch? Who are you? How do you pronounce this street name so that I can call a cab? All of these are questions that I happily half asleep answer until once more, I pretend to be asleep.

Then he starts tugging at the fitted sheet I am sleeping on top of, and I become annoyed. I look over at my couch companion, curled up under the corner of my sheet he has managed to free, and I feel bad for him, so I offer to get him a sheet of his own.

I return with the promised sheet, and once more, lay down and pretend to be asleep. Then he starts rubbing my feet. Yeah, my feet. Finally I address my new couch buddy.

"Dude?"

"Yeah?"

"I will kick your ass if you keep rubbing my feet"

"..."

"Seriously."

"Fine, I'll call a cab"


Dear college,

Our time together was wonderful, but I think we've been delaying the inevitable. The first four years of our relationship were a whirlwind- and I'd never trade them for anything, and the extra year we got to have together during my teaching internship was amazing, but I think it is time for me- you, the both of us- to move on.

It's not you college, really, it's me. I don't want to say I've outgrown you, because that would be cruel. The truth is, we both knew this day was coming.

Melissa