I Am a Failure at Surprises

One of my old professors was giving a poetry reading, and obviously I wanted to go.  She hadn't seen me in a while, so I decided I should try to surprise her. 
The problem with me trying to surprise someone is that it often gets ruined. 
I decided to go that afternoon to a study room to do some reading and writing.  I frequent this particular study room, and it's usually pretty quiet on weekday afternoons.  At most, I've seen one person in there at this time of day, and even then, it's usually someone who just looks in and then walks away. 
I went in and, for about an hour, worked.  And then Chelsea walked in. 

I hadn't seen Chelsea in a long time either.  I was trying to remember the last conversation I had with her.  I vaguely remembered talking to her about four years ago about a book series we both liked.  I remembered this conversation because I didn't really know a lot of people who read this series; my best friend had introduced me to them years previous to that, and I had only spoken about the series with a man in a library once who read The Dresden Files, which I was also familiar with and was similar.  I think during that conversation Chelsea also mentioned that she was really good at interviewing for jobs and that's why she was always employed.  At the time this had impressed me because I had always felt like my interviewing skills were terrible.  (I am happy to report now that I've learned better interviewing techniques and that I think I've even impressed some people.)
But Chelsea didn't really acknowledge me.  She just sat down and read something.  Oh, I thought.  She must not remember me. 
Not that she really should remember me.  We were really friends of friends and I mean, I'm sure there have been more important people out there. 
We sat in silence for another half hour, I continuing with my work.  Then she looked up at me. 

"Have you ever read Foucault?" she asked. 
I had, but it had been a long time ago.  And because I had found him frustratingly difficult in English, I had looked up a passage in the original French.  It had been easier to understand, but that was all I remembered. 
Chelsea talked to me about some of Foucault's ideas.  She mentioned being in a particular class, which Kristina was also in.  (And had mentioned I should come to just to see what it was like.) 
Chelsea, as a fellow feminist, was not so sure she liked the ideas of Foucault.  He said some problematic things about women. 
"I always interpreted Foucault to be saying simply what is and not how things should be.  I don't think his statements are meant to be interpreted as him endorsing that view, just observing it." 
She nodded her head, looking far away.  "That sounds like something Foucault would say."
I smiled.  Now that was a compliment.  Alex had liked Foucault.  It was one of the things we had talked about in the interview.  Alex had said how beautiful she found his writing. 
I suddenly realized that I had a question for Chelsea.  "Are you one of the people from that feminist organization that recently formed?"
"I'm not really part of it.  That's Bianca." 
That surprised me.  Bianca and I had been in a class together last year.  She had been relatively quiet.  Despite this, it had been obvious to me she was thoughtful and way cooler than I am (though, I would argue pretty much everyone is cooler than me.) 
I made a mental note, if I ran into Bianca anytime soon, that I should tell her how much I had admired her work.  Erin had told me all about it. 
"Are you going to the poetry reading tonight?"  So Chelsea must have known more about me than I anticipated, because she remembered that I worked with that professor. 
"I am, but she doesn't know I'm coming, so don't tell anyone I'm here.  It's a surprise." 
Seeing Chelsea was really nice, but I had to go over to Nate's to get some stuff and to have dinner, so I said goodbye and left.  I was turning the corner on the stairway, thinking merrily of how much I liked Chelsea and how I was going to get to see people tonight at this reading, when I was startled to see Stephanie, three steps down from me, staring up at me.  Her eyes went wide.
And this wasn't just Stephanie my friend.  She was also Stephanie, the assistant to this professor. 
She hadn't seen me in a long time either. 
Oh shit, I thought. 
"Don't tell her I'm here!" I said, slightly loud.  "I don't want her to know I'm coming tonight!  I'm trying to surprise her!"
See what I mean about surprises?  Hours before the surprise, I manage to run into two people who actually could blow it.  This was especially annoying considering how long I'd been planning this. 
Stephanie sort of laughed at me and was happy to see me.  She gave me this great big hug that made me feel great.  (Oh, to have a thousand friend hugs that I could store in a chest somewhere.)  She wanted to hear what I was up to, and we talked briefly before both of us had to be elsewhere. 
I went over to Nate's.  It had been his birthday recently, and he had all sorts of coupons for free food.  That night, he was taking me out for pizza. 

Meetings with Professors

I had a series of meetings with professors.  I showed up at a class I wasn't enrolled in and after the class, we went back to his office to talk over my future plans. 
He thinks I could make it into graduate school, which is one of the things I want to do with my life.  I like academic work.  Parts of it are scary, but I like reading and analyzing and talking.  I'm excited about teaching.  I don't want to teach younger people because there's a lot of hand holding involved, but the idea of teaching students who want to be there and are at least marginally interested in having conversations about art, literature and other related topics excites me.  (Maybe I don't even want to teach in the traditional sense where I lecture and students take notes, but where I encourage students to think for themselves and learn to be their own best teachers.) 
Anyway, I'm clearly getting away from the story I'm meant to be telling here. 
After that first meeting, I happened to wander down the steps of the building, and I passed an office.  Just to see what was going on, I poked my head in.  I wanted to get a look at the list of current professors to check to see if certain people were around.  And lo!  A couple were.  I started contemplating dropping by their door to see if they had office hours posted.  As I was turning, I ran into Cameron. 
I hadn't seen Cameron in about a year.  He was coming out of a meeting.  He looked different, in a subtle way.  There was something different about how his hair sat on his head and his face seemed more square than I remembered.  We talked briefly, and he told me to call him so we could have a drink. 
I went down another set of stairs.  I ran into another professor.  He told me to come see him the next morning, at eight. 
"Eight?" I said.  Eight's really early for me, at least these days.  I used to get up at eight for work, but since leaving that job, not so much. 
I think he could sense my reluctance for that hour.  He sort of laughed at me. 
I've got mixed feelings about this teacher.  He's kind of a jerk.  I get the feeling he's one of those people with low self-esteem, because he can't seem to handle anyone knowing anything and there's something very pushy about him.  But I could at least consider what he had to say.  Maybe it was something good?
I went past the office of the other professor I actually wanted to see, and she told me to come in the next week, and okay, okay, I can do it.  She's only available for two hours every week (pretty much no exceptions), which is kind of annoying, because I have a schedule too here. 
As I was going down the last set of stairs before I reached the door to the outside, Bobby came through the door.  I haven't seen him in about a year, and I was so excited to see him.  Bobby is one of those people that I just adore.
Bobby and I mostly talked shop.  He told me about the professor he was working with on an honors thesis.  It was actually another professor I didn't particularly like, but whatever.  He told me about how he's decided to concentrate on early modernism, so stuff around the time of Shakespeare.  
He had heard through the grapevine a little about what I had been up to, mostly thanks to Erin.  He also invited me to a party.
I have to admit that I have a bit of a crush on Bobby.  In addition to being nice and smart, he's obviously into literature, and that's way more than I need to be happy with a boy.  (It is a sad statement on boys that even with those two requirements, not many boys are left.)  Unfortunately, Bobby's got a girlfriend, so I don't think anything will be happening there anytime soon.    

Being a Medievalist

The professor was actually impressed today during the review for the final on Wednesday. We were actually asking good questions so that we would understand it.
I'm really sad about leaving medieval history, though I suspect I won't have enough time to get upset about, seeing as I have another final, two research papers and a thesis to write in the next nine days.
So maybe I'll postpone that until after the term is over.
But thinking about it now, a few things become clear. First, becoming a medievalist was totally a fluke. I decided one morning freshman year, while asleep in my bed, that I wanted to try a second major in history. All year I did not have history classes and it made me sad. Every history major has to take the basic class, and I choose a class based on location and time. When I signed up, there was no subject and no teacher attached. It was all random that I got medieval. I suspect if it had been something else and the teacher had been cool, I might be obsessed with that now.
Secondly, I'm so glad that medieval happened because it forced me to learn a little Latin and to see how complicated European history is. It's easy for Americans to brush off stuff and just focus on the plague or the Crusades, but other stuff happened, like the Investiture Contest, like the splitting of Charlemange's empire, like the Pope's policy of neutralizing any significant political power in Italy. All of it had long reaching consequences, and all of those examples are important to understanding things today. I'm happy for that perspective.
And also, being a medievalist is just another way I'm nerdy. It's a different kind of nerdy, but one that Dungeons and Dragon kids can appreciate.
I'm hoping that in the future, I will occasionally make time for medieval history. I'm want to keep reading about it.

If you happen to be like me, I can suggest the following books:

God's War: A New History of the Crusades One of the best books I've read on the Crusade. Easy to understand prose. He doesn't shy away from explaining the important ways the Crusades were influences by other things happening at the time.
William Marshal: Knighthood, War and Chivalry Crouch is Marshal's main biographer, and this book is a decent explanation of his life. Might be a little harder to work on if you're not familiar with the events at hand.
Medieval Architecture, Medieval Learning: Builders and Masters in the Age of Romanesque and Gothic One of the strangest books I've encountered in my studies. I'm not sure I buy the argument of the book, which is that architects and masters worked sort of in tandem to create great masterpieces in their respective fields. But the explanations of medieval architecture are perfect. And there are pretty pictures. My copy has those pictures in black and white, but I'd love to see a color version of this book.
The Song of Roland One of the first poems in French. It's the classic story of the brave knight Roland who sacrifices himself to save his beloved king, Charlemagne. Though not accurate historically, it's still a fun read.
The Oxford Illustrated History of the Vikings A glorious book. Easy read and great images to bring the Viking world alive.
Arthur: The Seeing Stone Though not an actual history book, this is easily my favorite fictional book about the time period. Although written for a young adult audience, it's delightful.