January 26th

Classes after 5 pm were cancelled today due to the snow...which stopped shortly after the announcement, which came around 2:30, was sent out. Who says Jay Hickey isn't in it for the students? Anyway, we're supposed to get a "wintry mix" tonight that will knock out all the power and break windows and smother kittens and DESTROY EVERYTHING. Just kidding. Considering that it's supposed to stop before I even wake up, I doubt it will actually do much here on UConn, although fingers crossed for morning cancellations. Maybe Jay will throw one to the students again, and shut down the campus for the whole day. OK, so I'd be missing one interesting course (abnormal psych) and a few hours of work work but also won't get to go to RUF and Agents of Improv tomorrow night, which is the down side. Harumph, I don't know what I want.

This picture was taken accidentally. I WANTED today's picture to be a beautiful snapshot of the snowy steeple of Storrs Congregational, but when I took my camera out, it said "Battery exhausted," and turned off. That's cute. Is that supposed to be some kind of euphemism? Usually we say that batteries die, but I guess that was a little too severe for Nikon, so my battery just gets "exhausted." Anyway, after charging the battery, I turned the camera on to check that it had gotten enough rest, and hit the shutter. I was about to delete the picture when I noticed it was kind of beautiful. OK, so maybe it's not the most aesthetically appealing shot, but it tells a story of sorts. Laptop open on the desk, notebooks lined up carefully in a crate, and then a mishmash of objects in between. Perhaps it actually raises more questions than answers. Why does she have clean empty disposable water bottles, and a cocoa-covered hot beverage cup? Why is there a postcard with the Bean in Chicago on it when she's no where near and has never been to Chicago?

Then again, maybe these queries really aren't so interesting after all. But still--it's a snapshot of someone's life. I'm not saying that mine is particularly unique or important, just that we probably don't often think of people in terms of these little details. In fact, we probably don't KNOW many of the sorts of details that can be discovered through the stories explaining what's on a person's desk. Can you ever completely know someone? If not, how close can you get? How many people in my life could point to each of these items and know the story behind them? Are these things really that important? If not, then why does it mean so much when a person can explain these details? Maybe lack of knowledge about a person doesn't so much matter, because it probably signals a lesser degree of closeness, but a greater knowledge of these seemingly insignificant details means a lot because it means that to that person, even the seemingly insignificant pieces of our life have been deemed worthy of that person's attention.