zoo adventure

I know.

I'm a 20 year old college student, I had homework, applications and other obligations and important things I could have been doing on a Saturday... Instead, I went to the zoo. While sitting through a tedious meeting, internally wincing at the amount of homework I still have yet to complete, part of me wants to regret this decision, but looking back at that trip, I can't see how I could have been anywhere else...

Flashback to Friday afternoon, approximately 4 pm:

My phone rings, jerking me abruptly out of a sleep that I had only barely fallen into. I clumsily reach over, almost knock it to the floor and blearily stare at the caller ID. It's JW, recent Bryn Mawr grad, former captain of the rugby team, current UPenn Master's Degree student in Education: all around amazing person.

"Hey! Soooo.... are we still going to the zoo tomorrow!?"

We had talked about it briefly via Facebook, but I thought it was almost too good to be true. I don't get to see her nearly as often as I would like, now that she's graduated and we're both generally pretty busy with our respective academic commitments, rugby teams and whatever else. But she's still one of a handful of people in my life right now that I really admire and look up to, and I just really like having her around. Still, it made sense that we were actually going to do this; she had to do research for a student-teaching project that was to culminate in taking her first graders to the zoo. I... actually had no legitimate academic reason, but she wanted company, and I was willing to tag along; HT, another teammate and close friend in my year also wanted to come along, so at least I had comfort in that I wasn't the only one shirking undergraduate responsibilities.

We had time to hang out for a while that night. Since she had woken me up before arriving, she waited patiently for me to create some semblance of order out of the chaos of my room with its strewn clothes and schoolbooks and told me about some of her teaching exploits, described her "class pet project" (that went along with this zoo excursion) and then came to dinner with me. Afterward, we stopped by another mutual graduated friend's apartment, who's in law school at Villanova, attempted to "do homework" while watching Battlestar Galactica. (I promise, this started out as a legitimate thing - for a teacher's conference she is attending, there is apparently a workshop about "Teaching Science and Battlestar Galactica" or something and she wanted to be prepared for it. I can't make this stuff up!) I brought a lot of work with me, and ended up finishing exactly none of it. She took me back to school at around 11:30 so that I could bounce from 12 - 2 at the party I signed up to work.

I should probably explain here that it's not really that I especially enjoy spilled beer, vomit and telling people that we're at maximum capacity and that they have to wait out in the cold until a few more people leave... But someone needs to do it, and since I'm not really big on partying, it's not much of a sacrifice for me. I'm ok with being sober and responsible when I'm needed; I would rather be in a position to watch out for people and make sure everything is ok, than be the one needing assistance. It's probably just a function of my personality. Also, I'm a dorm president and plan on holding my own event later this year - so hopefully the people I'm helping out now will feel inclined to return the favor and work at the party I'm hosting.

I stayed late to clean up, couldn't sleep when I finally got back to my room and ignored my alarm for a little too long the next morning, but somehow managed to drag myself upright around 9ish to get ready for our excursion. Despite the build-up of sleep deprivation from the previous week, I had a (later correctly proven) feeling that it would be worth it. After bundling up in multiple layers to ward off the cold, eating a breakfast that only narrowly avoided the inclusion of a lox-covered cinnamon raisin bagel ("What? I thought those were strawberries, ok!?"), streaming directions handily from an iPhone, a few questionable automobile maneuvers, and some parking confusion -- we arrived at the Philadelphia Zoo.

Throughout the different animal exhibits, we marveled at rare, endangered animals; "aww-ed" at adorable animals, engaging in adorable activities, such as grooming, play-fighting and... well, let's be honest - just sitting around, being their adorable selves (Um, can you say "two aadrvarks cuddling in their dark little enclosure?" = ADORABLE!) ; and half-played a game that involved comparing a few of them to some of our mutual friends and teammates.

Behold, the Giant Elephant Shrew! No, really - I am kind of obsessed with them now. These are only one of the many awesome things we saw during the excursion - but just look at it: don't you just want to pick it up and cuddle it to bits? I know I do. Also, apparently they're hella aggressive and that is why they are kept in separate areas at the zoo. This is actually hilarious, given... well, just look at it!

Something I found really interesting, was how, despite going through the same experience, we all approached it in different ways, according to our various areas of study. JW, obviously, was looking for things she could teach her kids about, gathering informational pamphlets and occasionally bemoaning the difficulty of taking 30 6-year-olds on a trip and managing to not lose them. HT, a geology major, talked about some of the animals natural habitats, and got excited by a particularly interesting looking rock in one of the reptiles' cages. (At one point, using a mind-boggling combination of team-work, pure skill and large quantities of ridiculousness, we persuaded this terribly scary tortoise-thing to open its mouth so that we could see its "fish-luring" appendage... so epic!)

For my part, I found myself focused on the animal behavior - especially in comparison to my experiences with dogs at the shelter. The gorillas were one of our mutual favorites; we spent a solid 20 minutes watching two brothers (one fully grown, the other still fairly small... for a gorilla) play-fight. Like some of my dogs, they were really mouthy, but gentle about it - they almost did things in slow motion to avoid getting too rough with each other. They were really intelligent, too; the little one kept climbing around a small area, to obstruct the larger one from getting at him.

After the zoo, we had a long lunch at the dining hall. And by "long," I really mean looooooong. Another of our friends joined us, and we just ended up staying there for almost 3 hours, watching the snow by the large windows next to our table, talking about life. It had been a rough week, and it was just nice to get some perspective from all of them.

Still, despite it being Sunday night and a good portion of my homework not being done, I wouldn't trade this Saturday for anything. Sometimes, I think, you just need to get out of your usual routine, environment and responsibilities and just go enjoy life.

oh, by the way, I'm...

I suppose I should introduce myself, or something? Is there some sort of "blog etiquette" I should be following? Forgive my rudeness and please give me the benefit of the doubt, due to my inexperience. After writing that last internal-monologue "starting" post, I realized that it might be prudent to at least talk a little bit about myself. It might help to understand where I'm coming from, where I might be headed and, of course, identify some of my various idiosyncrasies.

Well, Augustina Goldschmidt is not my real name, but you probably already knew that - it was a name incorrectly ascribed to me once and I rather liked it. I've held on to it for occasions like these; it's oddly fitting, really. I could see myself as an "Augustina." For my classmates reading this, since you know my real name, think about it for a minute, and please appreciate this hilarious permutation.

I'm 20 years old, I'm a college sophomore at Bryn Mawr (although please don't take my opinions, thoughts, ideas, etc. to represent the entirety of the college.../disclaimer) and... my favorite color is green? Yeah, I don't know how to write this all of this eloquently, so...

Some (un)important things you might care to know about me, in bullet form:

- I'm a double English/Psychology major.

- I'm an only child, and I have pretty awesome parents. I also have 4 cats and a dog. I swear, we didn't mean for that to happen. We just... kind of accidentally collect animals.

- I play rugby and although I'm not very good at it, I love my teammates and have a lot of fun playing the game and just hanging out with all of them.

- I work at an animal shelter during summers/winters, when I'm not away at school. (I started volunteering originally when I was 11 years old, but I'll probably address all of that later. I actually have an entire post idea in mind... clearly this "blog" thing is taking hold of me...)

- I have a deep loathing and fear of black & white movies. (I know, it's weird... don't worry about it)

- Although I see myself as being very "career" focused (that is, once I figure out what I'm actually doing with my life - "Nursing! Law! Psychology! Oh hell, I just don't know..."), I am also ecstatic about the idea of having a family.

- I love to sleep, but unfortunately am alternately too good at it (17 hours straight on Sundays occasionally, anyone?) and terrible at it (I just won't do it, if I have more important things to do with that time); consequently, I have to set two alarms to make sure that I get up in the morning.

- This blog title came from a New Year's rendition of "dirty Mad Libs." It was hilarious (and one of the few "mentionable-in-polite-company" gems from that particular segment of the night), and I just needed a use for it. A Facebook status did not seem to do it justice, so I seized this opportunity to immortalize it forever... or, at least until the semester is over.

- When I was about 9 years old, I got my entire camp group kicked out of an art class. By using a single word. (No, it did not have four letters!) I swear, I didn't mean to, but it was kind of one of the greatest things ever and might be among my favorite childhood memories.

Aaaaand, that's about all I have for now. Until next time.

where to begin?

I set up this blog tonight with the intent to do only that: set it up. But looking at its blank incompleteness bothered me; I'm not one to leave things half-finished. Still, what was I supposed to do with it? I'm not really a "blog" kind of person; I said that in class today, and I'm saying it again. Yet it isn't out of the realm of possibility that this is something I could get into. There is something freeing in just writing whatever I feel like, whenever I feel like it. No guidelines to contemplate, no directions to follow, no parameters to stay between.

Actually, one of the main things holding me back was that I simply didn't know if anyone really cared that much about what I had to say - it seemed like somewhat of a narcissistic pursuit. That has been removed, as this is required for a grade. How liberating! When all of those anti-blog people with whom I used to be kinsmen protest "You keep one of those?" I have an instant out - "But I have to for class. I mean, I know that no one really cares what I think, but this professor wants us to..." Perfect. See? I can totally have my cake and eat it too; I am able to see myself as both "not the type of person who keeps a blog," and "someone who is now keeping a blog," and not have those incongruous things be completely at odds. (Even if I am stretching it a bit...)

It just seems like nowadays everyone shares everything with everyone else, whether they want to hear it or not. I think my generation is probably the worst so far at being private. We share everything: from Facebook to YouTube to anonymous (and sometimes not) confession boards to all kinds of other media at our disposal to reveal ourselves. I'm skeptical about being a part of this. Yes, I have a Facebook, I admit. But as I was telling my dad the other day in the car, anything and everything that goes on it, goes up with the express knowledge, at the very forefront of my mind, that any and all of it can be public at any time. In some ways, I think I use it as a public presentation of myself. I re-think, re-word and process my status updates to the nth degree before posting them. I not only worry about what I am going to write, but after all of that editing and censoring and general nonsense, I have the gall to then worry that I sound casual and off-hand!

Actually, I think that my mom, in particular, imbued me with a particularly healthy respect and, to a certain extent, wariness, not only about the kind of image I present to the world ("hold on, that shirt has a stain on it - take it off and let me get it out," "that coat has cat hair all over it, let me get the roller!" "brush your hair - people will think that your parents don't care about you!") and, in particular, about what I put on the internet. Nothing can be assumed to be completely inaccessible, nothing can be truly deleted, first impressions can't be taken back, and, dear, you really need to learn how to press the "logout" button. She's right about all of this, of course. If not for her, I probably still wouldn't brush my hair, would walk around in dirty clothes all the time, and be one of those people whose Facebooks are full of clutter and crap and whatever happens to pop into their heads while on the internet: "goin 2 the bathrm, lol." But she's my mother, and she's supposed to nag at me about these things and I'm supposed to be half-resentful, half-grateful for her interventions. We make it work.

Getting back to the topic at hand: the blog, I just was hesitant to join in the process of what felt like "SO MUCH" sharing of myself. As far as how I display myself publicly, I would consider myself a "secret private person." What does that mean, exactly? It means that I put up an incredible facade of openness. I am very friendly and outgoing; it is a part of my personality, but also something I work to put forward, even if it's not always how I'm feeling. But there is also a lot that I hold back. I mean, who doesn't? It may be partially that I'm hesitant to share certain things, but there's also this latent anxiety of "saying too much." Perhaps one of my greatest fears is sharing some of these important things I keep to myself, and not having anyone care. I shouldn't expect them to, and I don't. I don't think anyone can find you nearly as interesting as you find yourself, in most cases. However, when asked to be honest, I almost without fail am. To a fault, I should add. I've been told on more than one occasion that I'm a terrible liar. I feel as though this skill might be a useful one to have, except for the fact that when I try to lie, my heart isn't really in it. People who know me even cursorily can usually figure me out. And that's probably what my subconscious intends all along, however much my conscious self disagrees or protests.

And now we get to the dichotomy. I may sound like I'm contradicting myself, and trust me I'm probably n--... oh wait, I probably am. I am both a person who attempts to hold together a facade of exactly what details about me I want the world to see, yet at the same time will be almost unfailingly honest when asked a direct question about myself. So what could this possibly mean for my writing on here?

It means that I'm a little worried about this expedition. If you ask me to write about what I'm thinking, I'm going to write about what I'm thinking. Whether I would normally share it with you or not. If this were not an assignment, I would actually probably be even more intense about being careful, because, well, no one asked me. But someone did - so now I have to balance my desire for privacy, fears that no one cares and intense honesty... all in this nice little "blogger" format. I will try to censor myself to some degree, to make myself sound more likable, charming and interesting. But for the most part, I think that what you read will be as real as I can make it.

We'll see how that goes.