Now that Anh has gone
Far away to Vietnam
Woe, oh, woe, is Jon.

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Dear Jon,

I know you're a really busy guy who does not have a lot of free time. Regardless, I implore you to sit down later tonight and write in your NuTang. Write about the solace you've discovered in the company of nobody. Tell the story about the conversation you had with Veronica-- a woman six years your senior who pulled you aside today and the intellectual stimulation that stemmed from it. Discuss the repulsion you feel for the ungrateful, immature, stupidfaced students who come to your tutoring sessions. Write about your roommate Matthew, or the soon-to-be-roommate Benjamin, and how although you care deeply for both, you'd rather live with a cactus. Write .. something.



Respectfully,
Jon

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Your results:
You are Superman

Superman 100% Green Lantern 65% The Flash 60% Spider-Man 60% Hulk 60% Supergirl 50% Iron Man 50% Robin 45% Batman 45% Wonder Woman 40% Catwoman 30%

You are mild-mannered, good, strong and you love to help others.

Click here to take the Superhero Personality Test




A N H I M A L: WHAT
A N H I M A L: WHAT
A N H I M A L: WHAT
Jon: ..
A N H I M A L: WHAT
A N H I M A L: HEY
Jon: what?
A N H I M A L: WHAT

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The Bill Archer Fellowship was established by The University of Texas System in conjunction with Former U.S. Representative Bill Archer as a way to bring highly motivated and accomplished students to Washington, D.C. to participate in varied internships...
Our students work with places such as the United Nations Information Centre, the U.S. Department of State, many offices within the White House and on the Hill, with federal agencies, and with non-profit organizations. Our selection process is rigorous, and we are afforded the opportunity to bring only the best representatives from throughout Texas.



40 out of 190,000 students are selected



Someone made a mistake and picked me.

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"Would you--.. I mean, if I--.. " Feigning an unclear throat, I pause to collect my thoughts.

“Caitlin,” I began.. (kind of. As the second syllable escaped my lips, I heard my own voice dip to that of a soft whisper. I scoffed to myself -- mostly out of disbelief that even after almost a decade, this woman with whom most would consider as clear a juxtaposition to me as concrete is to water, brought back my stutters. )

“If I don’t become a writer.. If I neglect to fulfill this dream I keep locked away in my heart.. If I neglect me, would you consider me a failure?”

In retrospect, I see that the question I posed to the girl was one of redundancy; however, as I get closer and closer to going to law school and trading in my pen and paper for the opportunity to point at suspects and bellow“ OBJECTION!!!!!!!”over and over again--- .. I get closer to trading in my pen and paper, two constants in my life that are forever intertwined with the woman who strips away my façade with a mere glance.

As previously documented in this hurh nutang, my childhood friend Caitlin has been coaxing me to abandon my Jack McCoy aspirations and to do what she believes I do best: write. She doesn’t realize that I’m only a fairly decent writer --- on a good day.

“You will be a writer, Jon,” she says with conviction. “You may not write to make a living, or anything like that, but you will always be a writer. It’s everything about you--- the way you act, the way you speak.. The way you think. You think like a writer.”

At this point, I’m getting ready to do damage to my vocal chords with an “ OBJECTION! “ when I realize that I had been analyzing every word she told me--- editing her grammar, syntax, all of that. Even when she was done talking and it was my turn to speak up, I found myself debating which words would work best with whatever clause I would use to express myself.

I shrugged.

In other news, I’ll try to update more frequently in the upcoming weeks. Hopefully

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I’m sitting in an intro geo class that I tutor for when the professor drops this Confuscious like saying on the class.

"A rock with large holes holds more water."

It blew my mind. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation.

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With one arm securely nestled around the small of her back, I pulled Elvia closer to me after she hopped down from a footstool. "C'mon, lets go," I tell her before picking her up with one arm and carrying her away from the bookshelf she was organizing. With one arm flung over my shoulders and the other resting at her side, she allowed her body to ease into mine as I walked us away.

With both a simple "peace out" and a smile, I set her down after a few paces and proceeded on my way to the library.

The book I needed wasn't in, so I went on about my business to class, and then caught the bus to the University Dormitories a half mile away to check the status of my application to become a Resident Assistant.

I was put on the alternate list. The powers that be don't think that I'd be able to handle the 20 hour job of being an R.A. ontop of volunteering at the rape crisis center weekly, doing my big brother/big sisters of america thing weekly, being a staff writer and copyeditor at the local university newspaper ( as well as being a photographer for 'em. More on that later. ), continue being the Vice President of the University's Honors College ( Maybe president next fall if I decide to run, ) and working as a peer tutor all at the same time.

I agree with 'em... but I still would've liked to have gotten the job. I walked the half mile back to campus and went to the Peer Tutoring office for a weekly meeting. We played Taboo. I lost the game for my team. Went throughout the rest of my day and now I'm sitting at a local coffee shop and enjoying a live jazz concert, trying to relax before my big day tomorrow. More on that in the upcoming weeks.


Oh, and about photography... I learned how to take pictures using a film camera right before digital cameras became the norm. Personally, I think that digital cameras have cheapened the art of photography; anyone can just point and click now. Back in my day, we used to have to manually focus everything and get perfect timing for a good shot. Not to mention getting an authentic flash adapter to stick into my 1970 Minolta and--- ... Nevermind.

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I'm standing in the middle of a market, wearing my dress slacks and fancy sweater when she drops the bomb on me:

"There's just no way, Jon," Caitlin says frankly.

My world stops.



"Oh."


"I just don't have the money," she speaks quickly, but I'm not hearing so well.


"Oh."


"I want to.. I really do," her voice begins to trail off in my head. My friend, Stefan, who accompanied me to a fundraiser dinner begins to call out my name. I stand still.


"Yeah."


"My dad said he could help me out at the end of March, but that would be too late by then...," she tells me. She's worried. I can hear it in her voice.


"Oh."


"Jon? Are you alright?"


" ... " I don't answer.


"...?" She lets the question hang in the air.

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