There was a quote in something we read for WGS and it went something like this: "No woman truly believes she has great legs. And if she suspects she might have great legs, then she is convinced she has a shrill voice and no neck."
In context with my improving comfort with my body, I consider that idea of "great legs." If you'd asked me before, at the end of the summer, if I had great legs - I'd probably have said "well, not really. They're alright, but not great." Now it's like the meaning of the question is lost on me. I consider my legs and can't give an answer. What makes legs great? They're my legs. They're able and fairly strong; I'm glad of that, but how does that relate to the adjective "great?" I don't know. Don't really care.
Dancing Physicist is transferring to the University of Idaho so he can change his major to engineering. It made me think about change, and how change actually reveals stability. Graduating from high school, moving for college and losing touch with most of the people I used to know seemed like a huge change. But really, it kind of "cleaned off the glass" and showed who is really important and solid.
I made some guesses about it, and some were right, but some were wrong. Mostly, I was wrong about the number of people I would stay in contact with. During the six months or so before moving (the end of senior year and the summer), I probably would have said I had 5-10 friends at any given time, 3-4 of them close, and a bunch of familiar acquaintances. I definitely expected to stay in touch with five or six people. What has actually happened is I've remained close with two people (excluding family) and keep distant contact with one more. There are some people I know who came to U of O, but nobody I would expect to keep in touch with had they gone to school elsewhere.
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