Of graduation, a Seder and Matchbox 20

I realized over the weekend that in a short few months, I will be walking the walk across a blistering stage in almost-rural Virginia to receive a piece of paper that says I’ve studied Government and Public Policy for four-twenty firsts of my life. Good thing I asked some closer-to-campus seniors about announcements and caps and gowns and such; the deadline for submitting all that jazz is this week! I think tech just shut down my student account because they don’t want me to get these emails necessary to let me graduate. Eeish.
The job search continues, with new applications out for LA and LC positions, but my favorite at the moment is as historical interpreter at Mount Vernon. Yes, can’t you just see it now? First she writes historical fiction, next she’s in the colonial getup and parading 8th graders around, telling them all about George Washington. Don’t knock it – I used to be one of those 8th graders, and you used to be, too! Anyway, I think it would be very, very fun – I’d even be able to be outside and on my feet, staying active, and cultivating my love of history. A different direction, but not a bad one, if I may say so myself. But not getting my hopes up, not getting my hopes up… *grits teeth*
Had a fun afternoon with Ann and Michaela yesterday. I’ve not laughed that hard in a while. The Gallery Concert wasn’t quite as good as usual. Maybe I was just antsy because I ate some chocolate-covered espresso beans before leaving?
I decided I want to host a Seder at my place. I’m trying to pick a date, because the actual Thursday before Easter (when most Christians celebrate it) will be right before break, meaning most people will be gone (I think); and the actual Jewish calendar day of Passover isn’t until April 24 and I don’t want to wait that long. So, if you have an interest in coming to a Seder, please let me know, and when would be good for you. I’m having much fun researching what to make and exactly which Haggadah to use. The theme: “next year in Jerusalem, but this year at the townhouse.” Or not. O:-)
In the meantime, still hating the fact that I have to watch my friends agonize when there’s not a thing I can do about it. How do you comfort someone whose wounds you can’t heal, or even begin to understand? What if you can’t carry them because their own struggle is that they have to find their own feet? What can we ever really do but point someone to Christ, to the fact that He is a faithful Creator worthy of our trust?
In the meantime, I have Matchbox 20 stuck in my head. I think I already lost you/ I think you’re already gone/ I think I’m finally scared now/ You think I’m weak/ I think you’re wrong… If you’re gone/ Maybe it’s time to come home…