A time-out from India for The Best Blog Post of All Time

I know this blog is about my life in India, but let's take a minute to reminisce about my pre-India life. The wonderful Nadeen wrote The Best Blog Post of All Time about our lives at Stanford (this is copied and pasted from her and Ellen's blog, Usefulknowledgeusefulknowledgeusefulknowledge):

on meyer library

Meyer gets shat on a lot by people who like "pretty" and "awe-inspiring" study spots. Sure, I like to get my literary groove on in beautiful rooms. I'll never forget my time at Hopkins Marine Station in Monterey, where I got to study in this stunning little library. Or when I had the opportunity to study abroad at Oxford and spent many hours wistfully staring at the interiors of Gothic buildings while pitting my laptop's wireless abilities against medieval rules and regulations. Meyer, too, is special, not because it is extraordinarily ugly when compared to other libraries, but because I've invested so much of my undergraduate self into it.

I've lost count of the number of times I watched the sun rise while in Meyer, or the moments of recognition I'd shared with my fellow students, whose names I never knew but whose faces were as familiar to me as the people who lived in my dorms. Last year, I spent so much time in Meyer with Emily and these two hapless grad students who we never formally met, that we constructed fantasies about them: Wolverine's Brother and Greasy-Haired Guy, the former thus called because he looked frighteningly similar to the actor who played Wolverine's brother alongside Hugh Jackman in the X-Men sequel, and the latter because he, well, didn't seem to wash his hair very often.

These guys were hilarious. They were in Meyer all the time. I'd walk in to print a paper at 4:45pm, and they'd be there. I'd come back after my 10pm nap to start another paper, and they'd still be there. I'd walk back to my dorm (after failing to finish my paper) at 4am and oh yes, they'd be there. There were fleeting moments in which I saw them outside Meyer, and usually in these rare occasions they'd be sprinting across campus with a coffee cup or pizza box in hand, daring to step outside Meyer's boundaries only to refuel themselves. The greatest moment of encounter happened after graduation, when I watched the video of our commencement ceremony some months after the fact, and managed to spot them in the Master's procession. I was so ecstatic that I sent the video and screenshots to Emily, and we proceeded to have a 10-letter e-mail exchange almost entirely in capital letters, expressing our joy and admiration for our distant study buddies.

Meyer might be a grey, mammoth, earthquake-insecure structure of hideous proportions, but I'm convinced that it is a place of fate and kismet connections.

(actually, if that were the case, i would have found my goddamn husband already and i wouldn't have to worry so much about finding a goddamn job that'll sponsor goddamn international students. fuck this kismet shit.)

...And now, back to our regular programming.

...And now, back to our regular programming. (That would be India.)