Signs

There are signs everywhere. 

I must have believed that recurring line from the 1997 Matthew Perry movie Fools Rush In, because when it came time for me to transfer to a 4-year college, signs did seem to be everywhere, and they all seemed to be pointing toward one particular school....

The year before, I'd rediscovered a childhood favorite, Back To The Future, and became rather obsessed. I watched the movie every day. I joined an online fan forum. I began renting Michael J. Fox movies galore.

So when I toured one particular college the spring of 2001, and learned that:

 1) They had a building with a clock tower...



(WOU's library, left; the clock tower on the Universal Studios back lot, right)

2) On the hour, they'd play the Westminster Chimes, just like the clock tower in BTTF does...



3) The campus's tallest tree's top was struck by lightning nearly 30 years before...

...well, all those things (and the dining hall, if we're being honest) convinced me that this was the school for me.

I applied, was accepted, picked my classes, bought a bunch of stuff for my dorm room... and the signs kept coming. A few weeks before my first term began, I got a letter telling me about New Student Week. One of the many activities of the week would be an outdoor showing of... Back To The Future. That was the only movie playing that week. My favorite movie. On campus.

September came, and I moved into my dorm room -- room 121 (1.21 gigawatts!). I met my roommates, unpacked, learned my way around, watched that showing of BTTF, and began to settle in for what was sure to be a rich and rewarding term at this school that I was definitely meant to be at.

But then the signs stopped. And things got awkward. One of my professors liked to go off on angry diatribes that would end only when he threw something heavy onto the floor and stomped out of the classroom. The classes I was taking, mostly 300- and 400-level courses, consisted of  English Majors who already knew each other, which complicated "making new friends." One of my roommates was an exchange student who spoke very little English and preferred to hang out with people from her country. My other roommate, who'd seemed nice at first, took a dark turn about three weeks in and didn't speak to me for the rest of the term, not until the day she told me she was moving out. (Amen for that, though.)

I missed my mom. I missed my cat. I missed my own room and my friends at home.

The food was great, the classes were nice, my other professors were pretty cool... but overall, I was miserable.

And what had happened to the signs?

The Westminster Chimes still bonged at the hour, often annoyingly so. I soon learned that, because the original bell tower had been damaged by Oregon's infamous Columbus Day Storm, there weren't any actual bells there anymore. Nay, the chimes and the songs that played for 15 minutes three times daily were all pre-recorded, being blasted campus-wide for everyone's "enjoyment."

The clock on the library still reminded me a bit of the Hill Valley Courthouse, but it was still a library. Books, magazines, whatever.

No more showings of my favorite film. No more mention of it. My dorm room's number, 121, was not a place of electricity but a place of passive-aggressive dreariness.

Mere months before, everything had seemed so right -- and now it had all apparently gone horribly wrong. Some nights, alone in my dorm room, I would just cry. I went home every other weekend. I thought about quitting. Maybe I thought I should at least try to stick it out for a year. Growing up, my parents were reluctant to let me quit anything, encouraging me to keep going with things (until they became 100% unbearable?) That's partly why I did piano lessons for 7 years, band for 4 years, and have stuck with jobs that have made me want to strangle myself with my lanyard. I don't/can't quit easily. That's how I was raised... or maybe that's just how I am.

In January of 2002, I returned to college for a second term. The angry professor had been fired under rumor-filled circumstances. Silent Treatment Roommate had indeed moved out (I hope she found a roomie who shared her love of chain smoking), and Exchange Student Roommate had moved in with friends. I was the only leftover of room 121.

In came two new roommates: C, also an Exchange Student, who was almost never around, and K, who turned out to be pretty cool. K had a car, and we'd make weekly trips to the next town over to peruse the Walmart. We'd walk into town and visit the park, the Chinese Food restaurant, or the mom & pop video store. In short, I now had a friend. It wouldn't be a lifelong friendship, but for the next year and a half, K made life at college bearable.

The library with the clock tower turned out to be more than just books and magazines. I discovered a semi-hidden section chock full of YA and kids' books. I learned how to use the microfiche machine to find old newspaper articles. I spent hours sitting on comfy chairs, reading and studying in peace and quiet.

I ended up staying in the dorms for the following year, keeping K as a roommate. I made a few friends in my classes. I learned many things. One of my favorite subjects turned out to be Theater Of The Absurd. Who knew? And then I finished my degree, had my diploma mailed, and settled back into life in Portland.

I'm not sorry I went to WOU. In fact, sometimes I start to think it might even be nice to go back.

But it still seems funny to me that there were all those "signs" when I applied, even up until the week I started classes, and then they all just stopped. Had I lost the ability see them? Were there just no more to be found? Was I completely delusional, thinking there had actually been signs in the first place? Who knows. But whatever they were (or weren't), they got me there, and I stayed, and I got an education, and I guess that's what really matters in the end.

Silent Or Boisterous

I often dream in metaphor. If I have the same type of dream over and over, and give mind (when awake) to what's going on in my life when I have those dreams, I can usually start to figure out what the dreams are really about.

If I dream that I'm finding a bunch of open and unlocked doors in my house, or finding that things are missing or stolen, it's probably because I'm feeling vulnerable or anxious about something.

If I dream that I've gone outside to find that my pet chickens have multiplied into a huge flock that includes not only hens but a couple of guinea pigs who I've forgotten to feed for a week, it's probably because my subconscious is worried about real-life responsibilities or its concerned that I've been neglecting something important.

If I dream that I'm in a big building with lots of corridors and secret passageways and stairways, it might be because I'm actually in a highly creative mode and working out the nuances of a story arc in something I'm writing. Complicated story arcs somehow translate into dreams about secret passageways, go figure.

If I dream that I'm suddenly in high school or college again, and trying to figure out which class to get to next, or trying to find that class, or worrying that I'm failing a class, it might be because, well... um... OKAY, WHY DO I HAVE THOSE?

There are actually numerous possible reasons, but the fact is, I've had three of those dreams in the last week, and I'm kind of annoyed about it. Two were definitely set in college, where I was moving into and out of dorm rooms and having delicious meals at the food court. Last night, I was taking a math class that involved manipulating large amounts of clay. Yes, clay. But when we students weren't handling the clay, we were being asked to solve calculus problems. I had no idea how to do anything the teacher was asking, and was deciding I definitely needed to drop that class before I earned a big fat F. Also, I was feeling a little silly being there in the first place, having already gone through the whole college thing some years before.

Sometimes I think it would be nice to go back to college, though. I like learning. But I do not like homework, reading assignments, or writing papers. I don't even know why I don't like writing papers. Maybe it's because I don't like the idea of learning something and then having to repeat everything I've just learned back to the teacher. It feels so tedious. Just teach me and let me enjoy the knowledge.

I've actually taken about a dozen adult education courses since graduating from college. They've been great. But somehow... they don't really give me the "college" feel that my dreams seem to be asking for. But what kind of classes do I want to take? What would satisfying my apparent cravings for tastes of higher education?

Let's face it; the class I really want to take would be called something like: "Art Appreciation & Traveling & Food-Eating & Horseback Riding By Moonlight." 

I wouldn't even mind the homework.

Collegiate

A few weekends ago I decided to pay a visit to the campus of one of my former colleges, Western Oregon University. This is where I attended school from 2001-2003, earned my Bachelor of Science degree in Humanities, and had a lot of crazy times. I wasn't into the party scene, but my roommate and I did watch a lot of cable TV, rent numerous VHS tapes from the local mom & pop video store, and make many trips to Wal-Mart. So, you know, crazy times.

Even though the campus is only about an hour and a half away from where I currently live, I've only been back twice since 2003. Which is lame of me, because there are many reasons to visit, not the least of which is the food court. But more on that later.

I now present to you a pictorial account of my recent visit to WOU, home of the Wolves.

WOU has a fun history! It has gone through more name changes over the years than Prince: Monmouth University, Oregon Normal School, Oregon College of Education, and Western Oregon State College are its previous monikers. Fun fact: Beverly Cleary's friend went here!

Ah, Main Street. Home to classrooms and bricky buildings. A lovely place.

This is the Administration Building. Once, during my first year, I joined some of my professors and fellow students in a "march" where we... well, marched... outside this building, chanting things about fairness and equality. And we got to wear buttons. It was exciting! But mostly it scored me points with my profs. Maybe it was my imagination, but they were nicer to me after that. I still have the buttons somewhere.

Okay, so there's this tree. And it's a big deal around there because it's the tallest of trees, and possibly the oldest. At Christmas time, it has lights all over it and they have a tree lighting ceremony and it is very special. But this tree isn't perfect. That's because the top's gone. It was struck by lightning. How cool is that? So now, no point. It is the Mt. St. Helens of trees.

This is Campbell Hall. Allow me to tell you about Campbell Hall, though not about that blue thing in front because I have no idea what that is. No, but about the building. It used to have a bell tower on top, but then, during the Columbus Day Storm of 1962, it fell down.

Exclamation point!

When it fell, two things were destroyed. One, the bell tower. Duh. So they were like woe, no bell tower, BUT we miss the bells so let's build a bell-tower-ish thing on top of the building next door and play RECORDED BELL SOUNDS!

See that brown thing on top of that other building? That's a bell tower, but I'll be darned if there's an actual bell in it. But that didn't stop us from being treated to bell chiming on the hour and olde tyme music three times a day.

The other thing that was destroyed in the Storm was the left side of Campbell Hall. I guess it was totaled. So they walled/bricked it off, but you can see where the doors used to be.

Or, you know, there's probably some other reason why it's like that. I'm no architect. All I know is that door-looking thing creeps me out.

Speaking of creepy...

This is Todd Hall, named after Jessica Todd. Beverly Cleary's friend and her classmates used to call it Jessica Todd Hell. Apparently nobody liked Jessica Todd. Which may be why some say the building is haunted. By HER, naturally.

Now, I don't know if it's true, but I do have to say there's something about the exterior...

...that strongly suggests "Nefarious after-hours doings." It is definitely the creepiest-looking building on campus.

This is the University Center, home to the bookstore, dining establishments, a mini-mart, a coffee place, offices, computer labs, and a "game" room, which, when I went there, had a foosball table and video games that ate your quarters. It's actually one of my favorite places on campus (not counting the food court). I can spend hours in the bookstore. It's probably a good thing it was closed when I was last there, or else I might've spent a pretty penny, and me without my 10%-Discount Alumni Card!

Now heading toward the dorms. A mere ten years ago, there were just 5 dorm buildings and now there are eight, I think. Mine was Gentle Hall, and I was in room 121.

Yep, there it is. Top floor on the right. That was "home" for two years, and it kind of weirds me out that other people dwell in it now. Yeah, I'm weird and possessive, what?

This is the Gentle Hall lounge. The RA's were always trying to get us "involved." So there were parties sometimes. Getting-to-know you extravaganzas. I remember everyone gathered to watch Friends when Rachel had her baby. I also carved a pumpkin in that room, made a decoupage box, and celebrated Mardi Gras for about an hour before returning to my dorm room to watch a Cosby Show marathon on TV.

Well, I promised I'd talk about it, and here it is...

 The food court. Valsetz. It was actually attached to Gentle Hall via a series of walkways. If you lived in the dorms, you could have a food card which was like a debit card and it meant that whenever you were hungry, all you needed was that card, and you could get anything you wanted. They had a soda fountain, a bagel station, a bakery, a pizza place, a salad bar, a sandwich bar, a grill, a waffle stand, and oh so much more. In the mornings you could get an omelet for a dollar; in the evenings you could get a Boca Burger and fries for less than $2. Once a month, they served lasagna, and it was so delicious we'd often buy 2 or 3 pieces and keep the leftovers in the fridge (for all the good it did; we still had them devoured in a days' time.)

And yeah, one time I did get food poisoning from their lettuce, but no hard feelings.

Valsetz was also the place where the dorm association would sometimes sponsor Bingo nights. My roommate and I were unusually adept at winning prizes. I actually won a 23" TV, a serious upgrade from the 13" one we'd been using. I still feel kind of bad I didn't act more excited when I won, like jump up and down and scream, but that isn't like me. I hope they realize I was, indeed, grateful. A big TV made watching Gerard Butler movies even better!

Another place to get snacks on campus was this little mini mart inside the Werner Center. We called it either the Wolf Store or the Candy Store. I am only slightly ashamed to say that candy was most often purchased here, though a few Icees and Jones Sodas were procured as well. The Food Court was awesome for everything except having candy. So we got it here. And we got it often. It's a wonder we still have all our teeth.

This is the library, and it is fantastic. It opened right before I started at WOU. It has three floors, and in my quest for a quiet corner, I would often make my way up to the second or third floor to find a comfy chair on which to study. One day, I accidentally stumbled upon a section full of children's books. I love children's books! It was like my own personal Room of Requirement. So whenever I wasn't studying or involved in various shenanigans, I may have been found curled up on a cushy chair, nibbling Skittles and reading Judy Blume.

And now this tour must come to an end. I want to visit again soon -- if anyone wants to go with me, I'm taking applications. Kidding. Sort of.