The Great Gadsby.

My cousin's husband is Nick Gadsby. He is 78 years old and a proper English gentlemen. He married my cousin, 58, after he lost his wife of many years. She moved about 15-years-ago from Brooklyn to Epping, England, where he has lived for most of his life.

When I met him this summer at their home, I was most impressed by his ability to engage in an intellectual conversation. Not that I think elders are incapable of this, but it really was one of his most striking features. On our last night there, we sat around the dining nook for a long time, sipping wine and touching on a number of issues, ranging from global warming, to individual rights, to European culture. No matter which way the conversation turned, he had a wealth of knowledge to bring to the table. I'm sure a good deal of this came from the fact that he has lived long, but I felt his knowledge came even more so from the fact that he was well-read, intrigued by learning, and had always made it a point to stay aware.

I was also attracted to the way he chooses to live his days. At 78, he is still working as a lawyer. He is active. Golfer. Hiker. Tennis. Travel. Cook. Family. He chooses not to stay insync with the downward (well, upward) movement of his years. He is embracing life and taking risks. Still in love with the world around him.

I'm not sure what sparked me to write about Nick this morning, but I guess I just wanted to emphasize the fact that this is the kind of person I hope to resemble in my old age. And of course, to be that elder sitting in a dining nook, making a lasting impression on a young person.

For Alex...Cassie Don't Kill Me

In order to salvage some of my spring break, I went to Penn State and bothered my friend. She's pretty great. I miss her. Too bad Alex didn't come with.

I realize these are pretty meaningless, but I just felt compelled to put them on display.

Selah. I love this word. I love its obscureness and its clarity, which may not make sense, but it will. This Hebrew word has theologians in a constant debate over its uncertain, or obscure meaning. They do agree that the word "selah" comes from the primary Hebrew root word "calah," meaning "to hang," or "to weigh." Therefore, many believe the word is a reminder to "weigh, or measure what is being spoken/written to us." In other words, stop and listen.

This is my favorite interpretation. What a beautiful reminder in the midst of our loud and chaotic lives. For instance, when trying to make important decisions, we get caught up in everything going on around us, and what everyone else is saying, that we forget to stop and listen to what is going on inside ourselves. What are we feeling and saying to ourselves? What is God, or whatever higher power you believe in, saying? Ultimately, it is in these intimate, quieter moments that we are going to find the answers we are searching for.

There are two other possible, broader meanings. Some believe the word "selah" is nothing more than a musical term, indicating an interlude. Other Jewish scholars believe it means "forever."

Interesting though, when you look at these other two interpretations, you can't help but see some of the first in both of them. After all, an interlude is essentially a "stop," is it not? A pause from all the noise and a chance to reflect on the music you just heard. Further, and this might be a stretch, could it not be said that the command to "stop, listen, and weigh" should be an ongoing process in our lives? It shouldn't be a one-time event, we should forever be taking these pauses, drawing them out in an attempt to make sure that we are understanding. So therefore, the clarity of the word comes from the fact that even within these varying interpretations, there is still a similar essence that exists.

Selah. What a lyrical reminder to take the free opportunity we've been granted to reflect and comprehend what is going on around us... to then step back into the world with a greater sense of clarity and peace.

If I do get gutsy enough in the next year or two, this word will most definitely be tattooed on my foot. Or maybe it could be the name of my future daughter? Hah.

Legite.

Apparently my last entry led some to believe I was either high or simply scatter-brained. I'll try and keep this more focused.

I have two things tonight, niether of which require any mental exertion from you, the reader.

1. Clinton Kelly is officially my favorite gay man; however, his sexuality really is of no importance to me. Not only is he super nice, attractive, and has incredible fashion sense, I come to find today that he holds a Communications degree from Boston College and a Master's in magazine publishing from Medill at Northwestern. For awhile after college he worked as a freelance writer and editor in New York, which takes incredible stamina, patience, and talent for that matter. Further, let's be honest, What Not to Wear is great afternoon t.v. Please check out his website, it's adorable.

2. ...I forgot my second thought. Damnit, so much for scatter-brained.

Do You Realize?

"...you realize the sun doesn't go down, it's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round."I really don't have anything to say tonight, other than that my mind hurts. If only this was caused by a slab of schoolwork banging me over the head.

Is it lame that I would kill to write a paper, or something, right now?
Sorry to be a Lamey McLamester...HAH HAHAhahahaaaa. heh.

ON A HAPPY NOTE!: volleyball at Calhoun tonight. Of the five games, I don't think my team ever won, but we looked freakin good losing, so all is well.

Ah, one more thing!: in case anyone is wondering, I determined tonight that my three favorite sections of my iTunes are the L's/M's/N's, R's/S's, and the W's. L's/M's/N's are just amazing, the R's/S's are just chill and the W's, man they just know how to rock out!

Trude.

I would like to take the opportunity to thank the Kansas City Airport for providing me with a super delayed flight and efficient internet access, without which I could not have this most-appreciated opportunity to update my much-anticipated blog. Once again, thank you KCI.

I could be super emo right now and focus this entry on the essence of an airport...the feeling of being in transition which, (here it comes) in reality, is our lives...one never-ending transition. But I'm not going to, because that is lame and cliche. Damn cliches. Actually, doesn't "In Transition" sound like a catchy yearbook theme? Reid? Corey? Thoughts?

I decided this weekend I am going to add "weather" to conversations that irritate me. Don't get me wrong, it has to be mentioned now and then, but the repetitiveness and surfaceness of it annoys me to no other.
Kansas Trip '08 was legite. Good food. Good friend. Good dog. Good sci-fi movie. Got a new vinyl. New shirt. Meggie seemed like she got out of the trip what she needed to so I'm happy for that. I received some fine academic advice myself, but that's a whole other story.

Anywho, back to Clemson in a few hours. Back to the grind and dreaming of spring break. Peace out.