Well, this morning I've come back from a spring break in sunny and humid Southern Florida to an ice storm. The kids had off from school, later flights were cancelled, and the roadsides are littered with what used to be nice cars. So much for spring? I like winter, though.
Last Sunday was a happy occasion, but one that gave me pause. My classmates being done with their theses is certainly a joyous event; but it really nails home the fact that they aren't my classmates anymore. They, like the class of 2006 and all classes before them, might be going to Ojai Pizza within the month to celebrate their successful defenses. Somehow it seems more official than turning in a withdrawl form, than requesting readmission from the dean. I'm in the class of 2008 now. Wow.
Speaking of school, I visited
LECOM-Bradenton last Monday. I didn't really get to meet with any medical students or professors (I was actually on a tour intended for the already-accepted members of the first class of the Pharmacy school), but it looked really good. I was already impressed with their curriculum description: instead of lectures, all of their students do a small-group-discussion "problem based learning" curriculum. Read the site for more info. Many schools around the country are starting these programs as alternative tracks to their lecture-based curricula. I think it would be great if there was a wave of TAC PBL med students... it sounds like a method that would work well for a lot of TACers. Maybe I'll get to start the wave. :o)
Last night my grandmother took me to Godspell, which I had never seen played before. While certainly not the most disrespectful play about Our Lord ever written, this performance certainly didn't make it very far up the chart. The other characters were bearably silly bein'-learned hippies, but Jesus was wretchedly portrayed as a sort of buffoonish tolerant-of-all-things leader in a big shimmery purple shirt who taught everyone to smile and hug each other. It is, of course, supposed to be reactionary. It just happens to be reacting against the baby in the bathwater, if you can see through that mixed metaphor. The man who wrote it was bored by Easter Vigil services, and sat down that very morning to break the gospel free, as it were. Oh boy.
Besides that, I spent most of the past week swimming, studying, and eating out way more than I ever thought possible. Hooray for the ocean! I was swimming in some small waves and thinking of Stella Maris from the litany of Loreto, when I looked over and saw my first pelican. Pie Pelicane! This one, however, wasn't piercing his own brest to feed his starving chicks. He was just swimming.
You have to love the symbolism in our (t) traditions, though.
Satis pro nunc.
