PTI: pardon the intermission

The past 2 ½ months have been dynamic. There is no other way to put it. From the end of October to the middle of January, several events have taken place that seem more or less surreal. I suppose it all started with the onset of end of semester essays that surreptitiously and methodically undermined any competition for my every waking moment they encountered on their rise to hegemonic dominance. I gradually lost touch with any outside pleasure I may have had prior to the middle of November. Having fallen into a state of lucid dreaming, I was shocked back into reality with the news of the death of my grandpa, Hollis Lanning. Although his passing was long expected, it confronted me with a sense of helplessness that I had yet to experience. Being in Scotland, I was unable to be there for my family; I was unable to pay my respects; I was unable to carry his casket with my brothers and cousins. This tore me up. The only thing that kept me going was the knowledge that if I took one day off from school I’d fall behind and the work load would quickly become insurmountable.
I soon faced another uncomfortably unfamiliar experience: being away from home for Thanksgiving. Anyone who knows me in any depth is aware of my unrelenting dedication to all things traditional. Although some may label my being as a collection of numerous anachronisms, I hold strong belief in the relevance and significance of the past, with particular emphasis on family traditions. Finding myself an ocean, twenty hours, $1000, and 3500 miles from home, I found solace in an eclectic mix of unlikely friends: a half dozen Americans, a handful of Norwegians, a few Germans, a Canadian, and a Russian. After an interesting game of American football, we gathered for a potluck dinner that kept my mind from the wandering to one of many possible distractions. I have no doubt that it was better than any Thanksgiving away from home I could have wished for.
From the day after Thanksgiving to December 13th I existed exclusively within the confines of my apartment, leaving only to gather food and books. The term “burnt out” had never applied to me more than how I felt on December 14th. I flew home on the 16th, arriving to see my mom and brother Ryan waiting for me. It was a good moment, for it was the beginning of a three week long vacation that saw the reunification of family and friends. Being back in Columbus for Christmas and Holland for New Years was a therapy few ever have a chance of receiving in their lifetime. I am blessed beyond belief, and it is easy to take it all for granted, but it is this recognition that will carry me through the next eight months and into the following chapters of my life. I cannot thank you all enough for your friendship and support throughout the past year. I wish you the happiest and healthiest of New Years for 2010. Cheers.