Posts Tagged With: best friend

Paris: Day Two

After a much needed long nights sleep, best friend and I were determined to make up for our first day in Paris with a fabulous second one. We had breakfast at the hostel, (we stayed at the Trendy Hostel which has breakfast included, a big plus. It’s a bit out of the way, but right next to the metro and a nice relaxing place to be at the en of the day) and then set out to visit the Opera, home of the Paris Opera, and also the real life inspiration for one of my favorite books, The a Phantom of the Opera, which was alter made into several movies, stage plays, and then the widely popular musical. I can’t truly describe the beauty of the any of the astounding architecture of Paris, but the opera house with its golden, winged, statues, and intricate carvings, archways, and columns is really sight to behold and I hope someday I et the chance to sit inside this gorgeous building and see an opera.

After a quick money exchange we made our way to Norte Dame where we attended Monday afternoon mass which was, although in French, a language I really know hardly any of, still incredibly moving. I am a believer and getting to go to a service in one of the most beautiful and historic churches in the world was something beyond words. To see the beauty of both the outside and inside of Notre Dame, and the way that people were able to express their devotion and love of God through their talents of architecture, sculpture, painting, and glass work was so moving. I will admit, however, that it is a little bit bizarre to be attending church with hundreds of tourists standing on the edges taking pictures of it like it’s some kind of performance. But j am glad that the church is a working cathedral and not just a tourist trap like so many other grand churches around the world.

After mass we went in search for food but made a quick stop a the Shakespeare and Company book store because it’s impossible for two book lovers not to find themselves drawn in by the piles and piles of books held within that shop. I could have spent all day looking at books and would have surely spent more money than I could afford on books had I not remembered that I basically have no more room for anything in my bags.

Our search for substinance led us to what is my favorite place in Paris, if not the world that I’ve explored this far, Montmartre. Montmartre is actually the name of the hill that this district lies at the foot of, but as an artist myself and a lover of art and literature, Montmartre is a dream come true. Unfortunately due to the influx of tourists to the area (sorry Paris) the artists can no longer afford to live in Montmartre for the most part which is a huge pity because that’s what makes it so wonderful. It was the home of such artists as Pablo Picasso and Monet, and was frequented by writers such as Hemingway and Langston Hughs.

We found a bakery, bought a delicious lunch of sandwiches, croissants, and diet coke, and found out way up a hill to a tree covered courtyard and a (albeit very wet) bench to eat on. This bench was right outside the building where Monet and Picasso both lived and worked in their early days in Paris. If I had to pinpoint the exact moment I fell in love with Paris it was right there. Right in front of the former lodgings of artistic greatness, under trees with orange and yellow leaves falling at our feet, eating the best croissant I have ever had, I fell in love with Paris.

After resting for a while we started our climb to the cathedral Montmartre, and the best view of the city from anywhere in my opinion. We got to the top, took a deep breathe and just stood there in awe of the beauty of our view. That lasted approximately two minutes before we realized that Best Friend’s phone had been stolen when she accidentally put in her back pocket after checking directions. There were a few moments of panic and frustration, and then we realized that A) her phone was covered for theft so she could get a new one next week, and B) there was nothing we could do about it right then so we continued on our way more or less unaffected by the unfortunate theft.

After that it had started to rain even harder and my shoes were soaked through, so we decided to go back to the hostel and relax for a bit before meeting our friends again for dinner that night.

Around 6:30 it had stopped raining so we made our way back into the city for dinner and we met our friends at a small crepe shop and I had the best tomato, lettuce, and feta crepe, and then an hour later an even better nutella and banana crepe. It was a good food day over all.

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Paris: Day One

Arriving in Paris I’m ashamed to admit that I wasn’t as in awe as I probably would have been due to lack of sleep, heavy backpacks, and a little bit of nausea. We got off the plane, made our way to the bus that we rode nearly two hours to the train station, and then we purchased ticket to Versailles and took a nice long train ride to the beautiful palace of Versailles. We got there, bought our tickets, and then realized that there was a three hour cue just to get INTO the palace, and promptly decided that there were not enough hours in the day to do that. We found two woman about our age, handed them our tickets and found our way back to the train station to head to the centre of Paris.

By the time we got there I was going back and forth between nausea and starvation, dehydration, and just general exhaustion. Our goal was mainly to find food, and then forget all of plans for museums and wandering and take a nap as soon as possible. That being the case, and the fact that it was Sunday, we found nothing open that was even remotely close to our price range, so we settled for something not horribly expensive and just tried not to think about the cost too much. Then we finished our meal, found a metro station, and checked into our hostel as soon as we could, which was the best decision we could have made because two hours later when we left  to meet our friends we were much happier and ready to experience Paris.

Night time in paris is really the most wonderful thing. It isn’t called the City of Lights for nothing. It is actually amazing to me how beautiful twilight in Paris could be. Two of our good friends also happened to be in Paris for a few days, and also happened to be newly engaged which just made seeing them for the first time in months even more fun. we met them under the eiffel tower which I stood in front of and pictures like the tourist I am with no shame. It was actually a lovely movie moment. Best friend and I saw them across the square and we ran to each other and hugged, and exclaimed, and oohed and awed over the ring. Then we took a picture, and went in search of a Parisian cafe to spend more Euro in.

We settled on this lovely little cafe and a table for four outside, luckily under a heater because as gorgeous fall in paris is, it is also awfully cold. We ate onion soup and creme brulee, and had a wonderful time catching up and continually freaking out over the fact that we were together. In Paris.

When we parted that night and went back to our hostel to catch some sleep, I already knew I was going to love Paris, if only for the food.

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Sitges, Land of Golden Mermaids and Empty Beaches

In between our morning at the Picasso museum and the Gothic Quarter, (Which you can read about HERE) we took a train ride up to Sitges Spain to spend the rainy afternoon on the beaches there.

Sitges is my favorite place that I’ve been so far in Spain. The first time I went we got down to the beach and it was practically empty. There were maybe five people scattered up and down the sand. It was a warm day and the water was pleasant. It was so still you float on the top with no worry of having waves crashed on top of you. It was the perfect beach, a nice change from the drunk college tourist filled beaches of Barcelona. Though they were equally beautiful, there is just something about sitting on a beach with no one but your family and just soaking it all in.

The second time I went was last week with Best Friend. We had gotten to Barcelona and realized that everything was expensive and there wasn’t much to do, so we decided we would go see Picasso, and then hop the next train to Sitges. unfortunately it was rainy that day, but that didn’t deter us in the least. we figured if we can’t swim we can at least go to the beach and see the water. So we get to the main station in Barcelona, Sants and we scoured the train time tables until we finally found one going to Sitges. We got downstairs (I should mention that we used one T-ten for each of us on this trip and it only ran out on our last ride to the airport so buy one, it’s so much cheaper) and we wait for the train and we get on.

The ride was pretty uneventful and about thirty minutes long so we just chatted and looked at the scenery which, as in most places around the city, was mostly farm land. But then, suddenly, we catch a glimpse of the ocean and it is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. I don’t know quite why this stormy ocean landscape took our breath away like it did, but truly it was a sight to see.

We get off the train at Sitges and to be honest I have no idea where we are. When I cam last we came by bus and were let up closer to the center of the city where as the train is more on the seaside end of things. I am glad that that is where we ended up though because being in tis part of town just solidified my love for Sitges.

As you walk through the streets every alleyway is like the gothic quarter just old and beautiful. Most of the shops are little organic cafes or hipster coffee shops, and everything has an air of laid back contentedness. All you need to do to get to the beach is follow the signs and walk downhill and eventually you’ll see a little blue through the buildings and trees ahead of you.

When we got down to the beach there were maybe three people standing on it. The storm had made the water rough and choppy so no one was in it but a few children played along the edge. we turned to our left and there is this giant church on a hill overlooking the ocean so we think, why not? We walk over a set of stairs that lead to a platform that has a sculpture of a mermaid and a great view of the coastline. The waves are so rough that they are actually breaking onto the platform where we are standing, it was gorgeous. We walked up another set of stars and found ourselves face to face with this old seaside church, which turns out to be Church of Sant Bartomeu i Santa Tecla, better known as “La Punta” (according to wikitravel). In any event it was beautiful and the vie can’t be beat.

We walked a little further down more little streets until we found ourselves back on the beach. We took pictures, and stood in the waves, and finally we just sat down right in the sand and watched the waves crash upon the shore. It wasn’t super eventful day, but it was a beautiful on and I think Best Friend would agree that when we’re together and seeing new things, it doesn’t really matter if we’re partying all night long, or just sitting on a cold beach. It’s all about the adventures that we get to have together, and about getting to look at each other’s kids some day and say “This one time when me and your mom were in Spain…”

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Barcelona: The Gothic Quarter, Gaudi, Picasso, and Staying up all Night

 

Barcelona is a party town. And I’m not just saying that, I mean I literally can see no real reason to go back to Barcelona, except to party all night long, which I would totally suggest by the way. But there are a few things that, if you’re awake before noon and not nursing any lingering regrets from the night before, that I would suggest hitting up.

The first place I would totally recommend is the Gothic Quarter. This is one of the areas of the city that remains from the original Barcelona. Every alleyway and street is lined with wrought iron balconies and beautiful cobblestone paths and buildings. There is an old world feeling that is unmistakable Spanish. Every old adventure film held in the streets of Spain look like they were shot here. I also love all the street performers and Catalan flags and banners strung across the streets. The gothic quarter is, in my opinion, the best place to spend your time if you plan to spend anytime in Barcelona during the day.

Right in the heart of the Gothic Quarter is the Picasso museum. The museum has a large collection of Picasso’s works that he created while in Barcelona and the surrounding Spanish towns, as well as all of his renderings of Las Meninas which is just breath taking to see them all there in one room. I am a huge Picasso fan and it as such a treat to get to see his work in person. Plus you get 50% off from being the between the ages of 18 and 25, and you get in free if your a student. Which is my favorite price. I would recommend going here one hundred percent. even if you drag yourself there and then fall back into bed after, drink a Cafe Ole and make yourself do it.

Then of course there is our old friend Gaudi. Gaudi is one of those artists who just kind of took over. Barcelona is full of Gaudi, fake Gaudi, souvenir Gaudi. It’s Gaudi mania. But his architecture is definitely worth seeing. Go find the Gaudi district and take a look at his gorgeous designs, and of course don’t forget to go Sagrada Familia, the world’s most famous unfinished church. We walked up to it and Best Friend says, “Think they’ll ever finish?” To which we decided it wouldn’t be as famous if they did that so … probably not.

Now for my adventures in Barcelona. On our second night we knew we were going to have to be at the airport by 5:00 am at the latest to catch our 6:30 flight, so we decided to just stay up. We figured we could go out dancing, leave around 2am and the go check out and get to the airport. Great plan right? Well here is the thing I always forget about going out, you don’t want to leave, and when you do leave you’re party high only lasts for so long before you’re exhausted.

So we are at the hostel, we meet some people, we get on the bus to the club and so far everything is good. I have an alarm set to tell us it’s time to leave so there’s nothing to worry about. We get to the club and pretty much right away I lose my best friend to some Australian, which is fine with me because I’m hanging out with this Canadian and two girls from the UK. We’re dancing, we’re having a good time, when my phone goes off. ok, no problem, but where the heck is best friend? I shove my way through the crowded dance floor, avoiding flirt Spaniards (If only I had more time) and still can’t find her. So I go back to my new friends, tell them to tell best friend I’m outside if they see her and I bid adu to my Canadian (which I was very annoyed about by the way, and he only made it harder by trying to convince me I could stay and still make it to the airport.) and leave the club to wait outside.

Now the problem with traveling is I can’t communicate with anyone unless I have wifi, which luckily I found, but since Best Friend didn’t have any, I was out of luck. I sat and chatted with a nice Spaniard who spoke NO English, in the best broken Spanish I could, but he stayed with me and was very kind until finally BF comes out of the club.

Somehow in our exhausted and rushed state we managed to navigate two metros, a five minute walk to the hostel, getting all of our stuff, checking out, another metro, finding a bus to the airport, and then get through security, find our gate and get to our seats. I am not lying when I said that by the time we got seated I pretty much passed out and woke up two hours later in Paris. So thank you Barcelona for a hell of a time, I will be again someday with more time on my hands.

Honestly we really only spent an afternoon and that night in Barcelona because I prefer Sitges and wanted Best Friend to see it before we left Spain, but over all I enjoyed our time in Barcelona, but like I said if you’re not a partier don’t expect a jam filled itinerary. If you are into the party scene make sure you stay at the Urbany Hostel. Trust me, it’s so worth it. Just don’t stay at the club until 2am and then exhaustedly stumble to the airport to make a 6:30 flight. Not worth it. Ok maybe. Yeah who am I kidding, totally do that.

P.S. There is a Mcdonalds that’s open late down by the club strip so if you want cheap greasy food after a long night, that’s the place to be.

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Down by the River

In Torrelles de Foix, Spain, there isn’t a lot to do. It is a very small town with just a couple of tiny markets and a pharmacy. And while I quite enjoy this quite little town, sometimes it can get a little monotonous.

So yesterday my two little brothers and I decided to go to the store so they guy buy snacks. We get there and , of course they are still closed for siesta so we decided to walk around a bit. We went down a small alley and back up, still closed. So we walked up past the store, up a hill we had never been before. As we were walking one of my brothers noticed a sign that was pointing to the right and decided that we should follow it, so we did. We walked down a path past a field with one old shack in the middle, and past a few scattered houses, up into the woods on the back side of town. When we got there we found a little stream that had beautiful, cold, clear water, and huge trees that were thick enough to climb in. We also found crawdads in the water, so we spent the afternoon climbing trees and exploring paths and catching crawdads. And even though we all got cut up on thorn bushes and came home wet and dirty, it was one of the best afternoons I have spent since we got here. On our way back we took a back road and it led past all these farms and vineyards that line the edge of town. It was so beautiful and green, I can’t believe we never explored that way before.

The thing that really got to me about the afternoon is that I forgot how good it feels to just be a kid. As I’m coming up on my 21 birthday I feel less and less like it’s ok for me to just be goofy and climb a tree. It was nice to regain some of that freedom.

A week from Friday I leave to spend a few days in Barcelona and Paris with my best friend so I try to keep my blog updated on how it all goes. It’s my first time to Paris and I’m super excited. We have plans to see museums and churches and all the beautiful touristy things that I’m not ashamed of. Although mostly I’m just excited to go to the Van Gough and Seurat exhibits which I have already informed my traveling companion will probably illicit tears from me. Art makes me emotional…sue me.

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“Before I die I want to…”-Asheville North Carolina

Well, it is officially my last day in Johnson City until January 2016, so naturally I decide to go to Asheville. I have never been before, but it is a place my friends swear to me I will love. They were right. I love the energy, and the artsy spirit. I love way people dress and how casual people are just hanging out and playing music or chatting. There is a sense of free spirit in the community of Asheville, and more than a little pot floating around in the air…but I’m from Colorado so, what else is new?

When we got there we were a little lost, trying to find parking, trying to figure out where we wanted to go. So I did what I do best, I phoned a few friends. “Definitely go to the Chocolate Lounge.” They told me, “And for sure hit up Double D’s coffee shop. Oh! and if you have time hit up Miss Malaprop’s Books.” We didn’t get to stay long, but we did get to visit some of the places listed. The friend I was traveling with is someone I have known for years. We laugh together, we cry together, but mostly we eat together, so eating our way through Asheville was never a question, merely an assumption.

We started at The Chocolate Lounge and let me tell you, very worth the recommendation. They had a wide variety of chocolate goodies, coffees, and organic milk. We settled on brownies, I got the coconut Macaroon Brownie, and my friend had the Chocolate Mint Brownie. Both were amazing! Very rich, but totally satisfying. The best thing about The Chocolate Lounge though is that they are all about organic and sustainable products, plus they are a locally owned business which I am always down to support. The staff was really nice and helpful, and I will definitely be going again.

After our chocolate overdose we decided to try to find Double D’s. We weren’t sure what to expect, but I can tell you I definitely wasn’t prepared for what I saw. This coffee shop is a locally owned place set up inside a Double Decker bus. There is seating in the upstairs compartment, and outside on the patio. We had their dirty chai and it was some of the best I’ve ever had. Definitely head there for coffee when you’re in town, although beware that it’s cash only. But it has a nice atmosphere, and ash trays if you want to smoke outside. I will be a repeat costumer here as well.

Like I said we didn’t get to stay long so I didn’t see a lot of Asheville, but probably my favorite part of town is the “Before I die wall”. This is whole wall that is painted with chalk paint, and across it are lines that say, “Before I die I want to…” and lines where people can fill in the blank. There is a chalk bucket hanging on the wall that is looked over by a kind, wheelchair bound, veteran who chimes, “Chalk over here! Find a space to write, or I’ll make one for ya!” He is cheerful and talkative, and carries a coffee ground can to collect spare change. There are a lot of things written on the wall; “…to find love.” “…to travel the world.” “…to be successful.” My friend and I pondered over what we would write, knowing it was only temporary, but for us it would be remembered. We tossed around things like to travel, or get married, or learn anew language. But we realized that these were, like the chalk on this wall, merely temporary things. Finally we grabbed some chalk and went to work. She wrote, “To be happy…whatever that means.” And I chalked, “To love and be loved.” I decided to make this my before I die because I realized that I could travel the world, read every book, eat every food, have every adventure, but if I wasn’t loving those I came in contact with, or accepting love from them, everything I did would be meaningless. You can have everything in the world, but if you don’t have anyone to share it with, what’s the point?

Ultimately I look forward to more Asheville adventures when I return to Tennessee. It’s kind of bittersweet. As excited as I am to travel and see the world, I’m also going to miss my friends at school and work. I’m going to miss going to church and seeing my middle schoolers. I’m going to miss my professors and their words of wisdom. I’m going to miss midnight Cookout runs or Mid-city trips. I’m going to miss lying on dorm room floors and talking about our future, and guys, and procrastinating on that big paper that’s due tomorrow. Most of all I’m going to miss Tennessee. Until you live there, there is just no explaining what it’ll come to mean to you. It’s the place that I call home.

Tomorrow officially begins The Great American Road Trip…or at least The Great Eastern Road Trip. North Carolina, to Georgia, to Virginia, to New York, to Florida, back to Tennessee, Indiana, and finally back to Colorado. It’s going to be one heck of a summer.

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Anxiety, Underwear, and Edward Albee

This is a post all about being uncomfortable. It is all about that heavy, nasty, sickening feeling of being just downright uncomfortable in a situation. This took form in three ways in my life today; anxiety, underwear, and Edward Albee.

I have anxiety. In fact, I have so much anxiety that I’m almost positive I will be diagnosed with an ulcer any year now from the amount of acid reflux my emotions cause me. Most of the time I handle it very well. I know when I need to make a time out and stop back, and while I have medication, it is only for when I am out of control and that hasn’t happened since this time last year. But as I near the end of the semester with stress levels high, and no free time to be had (though I forced myself to sit down long enough to write this), and my coffee pot working overtime, I have found myself more and more anxious lately. In fact, I haven’t gone to bed before 3am in two weeks because as soon as I fall into bed my head keeps swirling with all the things I need to get done and I can’t fall asleep, and when I do fall asleep I have stress dreams about the things I have to do when I wake up. It’s a vicious cycle of sleep depravation and anxiousness. The week before finals is always stressful, but it has been made more so this week by the fact that, somehow, I have a performance every single night. Oh, and did I mention that I’m terribly ill? Yes, of all the weeks I could have gotten sick, of course it was this one. But enough whining, I digress. The point is I’m a little stressed this week.

Earlier in the day I got into an argument with a friend who was simply being unreasonable and rude just to push my buttons, and that in itself set my teeth on edge. Then, while I was outside, waiting for the stage manager for the show I’m in to show up to work on costumes, I was approached by a friend of a friend who, long story short, very nicely but directly requested that I keep my mouth shut about a certain piece of information I have, as well as make sure my group of friends keeps quite as well. It was a reasonable request, but stressed me out because I started to wonder what my friend had said to his friend and if he thought we were all talking bad about him or something, and then it made me wonder if maybe that’s why he wasn’t texting me back all day, and frankly I began to spiral into a dark pit or inescapable doom that made me feel like I was going to vomit.

Well my stage manager finally showed up, ten minutes later than I thought she would, and I was already late for work, and then she tells me we are going to have to wait longer because she doesn’t have the keys she needs and the person with the keys is busy. At this point I was on the edge of tears and I basically told her that I was sorry, but that I had to get to work, and I left. And then of course I felt bad because it wasn’t her fault I was having a horrible day, it was just, simply, the day I was having.

After work I called my mother and had a very long chat about how everyone in the world seemed hell bent on making me crazy when all I wanted to do was curl up with a box of tissues and sleep until I could breathe again. She very calmly explained to me that I was being too sensitive and that everything was going to be alright, and I felt a lot better. But I still felt queasy.

Every Tuesday I have a night class, and on this particular night I got to class and realized I had forgotten my backpack which had all of my notes, and my homework, and everything in it. I sat there, trying to be calm and trying to just focus on the lecture, but I realized that I felt nauseous, and that I was having trouble breathing, and that the world was starting to a little blurry. My friend next to me, who also has anxiety look over concerned. I texted her;

“I think I’m about to have an anxiety attack, but I don’t want to just leave…”

“Ok, what can I do? Do you want me to walk out with you?”

“No, I’m just going to go outside, and if it doesn’t pass, can you bring my things?”

She graciously agreed and I tried to leave as unobtrusively as possible. I stepped outside and started hyperventilating so hard I felt dizzy and had to sit down. I pulled out my phone and called my mother again, needing someone to just talk to me to distract me from the painful weight in my chest. We hung up and realizing I had no more medication, I mad my way to my car and texted my friend to come rescue me, and I just started to cry. I cried because I was overwhelmed, I cried because I was sick and tired, I cried because I was embarrassed that I had to walk out in the middle of class, but mostly I cried because in that moment I felt so broken. I felt so incredibly worthless, like a watch with no hands. I just started to think about how if I couldn’t even handle a week of responsibilities, how am I ever going to be a wife, or a mother, or an employee? How am I ever going to actually have a productive life when I couldn’t even control my emotions enough to sit through a two hour lecture?

Finally my friend arrived and she just held me as I cried and told me it was going to be alright. She told me about her day and distracted me and never once asked me why I was the way I was as most people do. Se just accepted the fact that I was having a rough day and let me be, in that moment, whatever I needed to be, which was vulnerable and weak. And trust me when I say those are two adjectives I very rarely let myself be. I finally pulled myself together enough to drive my car up to our dorm and brave a room full of woman who were gathered to have a lingerie shower for a dear dear friend. Here is where the second part of my story begins.

The thing about my engaged friend is that she is kind of a prude. Not in a bad way, just in the sense that she gets uncomfortable very easily when people make jokes about sex. She had requested that her shower be kept high brow and that the jokes and references be kept to a minimum. We did just that and had a lovely evening. It did, however make me start thinking about what makes other people uncomfortable. For me, I would love to have a night of my friends celebrating me and the fact that, after twenty something years I was finally going to sleep with my husband. (It’s quite an event when you live in celibacy). I would think it was hilarious if my friends made jokes and we played slightly raunchy games, that’s just how I am. I also would be more than willing to show the gifts I got to everyone in the room, where as my friend was not. I am not saying anything about this friend because I think it is totally acceptable for her to feel that way, that just isn’t how I feel. Sexuality is one of those things that I find so fascinating, and that I think, as a culture, we take to the extreme far too much. We either view sex and sexuality as a sinful, dirty thing, or we make light of it to the point where we openly talk about things that really should probably be kept private. I think embracing and being comfortable in one’s sexuality, and being able to be mature about it is a beautiful wonderful thing. I also, however, have a lot of respect for woman who can be comfortable in themselves, but also have some class and keep to themselves what should be kept to ones self.

My third, and final story was inspired by the play Zoo Story, by Edward Albee. If you have never seen this show (and you probably haven’t) it is a beautiful one act that can make an audience cringe, cry, and laugh all in one sitting. The first thing I should say before I continue is that I go to a Christian College. If you’re not sure why that’s relevant, you’re about to find out. I have a friend who directed Zoo Story for our annual One Act Festival. Now Zoo Story is not family friendly, in fact, I’m not sure I would even take a teenager younger than 16 to it just as a matter of principle, but I also think it is a masterpiece. The way the show is written there is some harsh and vulgar imagery, and some topics that are far from kosher, but it is intended to make everyone uncomfortable, including one of the two character onstage. Because it makes the audience uncomfortable, it is able to have more of an impact later on in the show. Because I had class tonight I had to see the show earlier this week and so I was very excited to see what everyone else had to say after tonights performance, since I had loved it so much. When I returned to my room this evening my roommate, who in many ways is much more conservative than myself, asked me what I thought of the show. I told her I loved it and her only response was, “Really?” She proceeded to tell me about how offensive she found it and unnecessary and vulgar. I just listened, and tried to explain where I thought it reasonable to, but I soon realized that she had been so offended by the show, that she had missed the point. She had done what so many people do when they disagree with something, and stopped listening, and stopped looking for the value and redemption in the show. She didn’t see that everything Edward Albee wrote was intentional, She missed the heartbreaking beauty because she was too focused on whether or not it was appropriate for a Christian College. She said it wasn’t because it talked about pornography and sex and homosexuality. I say that it is the perfect place to talk about all of those things. I think the fact that a room full of Christians watched that show was a triumph. I hope that everyone who saw it walked away thinking about how they could look at the show from a Christian perspective. I also hope that not everyone stopped listening when they heard the word erection. After she left I simply texted the cast of the show and congratulated them on a beautiful piece of art that offended people. Because if their offended, it means they had a reaction. And f they had a reaction, it means they were forced, for 50 minutes to think about something that made them uncomfortable, and that deserves a little praise.

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