On Wishing For A Certain Friend

I had a great day today which included being done with Writing and Rhetoric forever, watching the Pelkey video Michael put together, having smoothies at Not Your Average Joe's in the afternoon, dinner at Panera later, and finally ice cream at Captain Dusty's. (Hah, I sound like I eat out constantly!)

Well, I have succumbed to the campus epidemic: Facebook provides me with a new way to waste time! Whee. It has also been the cause of an interesting coincidence: a girl I've been blog-stalking for a few months now happened to join a group I created. Of course, she still has no idea that I exist, much less that I read her blog and think she's fabulous.

Her name is Miriam and she's a student at Gordon. Or rather, she's sort of a student at Gordon; she's deferred this semester and I think she's going to Oxford next year, so the fact that I've decided that she and I should be fabulous friends and get along famously is basically irrelevant, because I've missed my chance. She's from a big family, was homeschooled, and loves books and languages. She's smart and witty. She's cool because she says things like this:

History tells us that humanity is evil.
Art tells us that it wants to be better.

and this:

I realized that music is the most natural art. It's as fleeting as Spring, and as inexplicable as the smell of rain. It moves as the world moves, with rhythmic, though sometimes unpredictable, motions. A painting cannot change, it only captures a moment. But a symphony can be experienced as often as a sunrise, yet no two renditions will ever be the same. Music is as natural as love.

So I wish Miriam and I were friends.

She doesn’t like Herbert and I do, but I believe we could work through our differences.

She also owns Invitation to the Classics, and I do too. (I bought it quite recently when the bookstore put all Os Guinness books on sale. They put all the others out on the front table, and I ran to the back and grabbed that one and told the cashier rather persuasively that it really ought to be discounted too, since it's co-edited by Guinness.)

She also hardly ever uses comma splices; she employs the semi-colon frequently instead.

And she’s from Chicago, and I went to Wheaton for a year, which is quite near Chicago, and I like Chicago a lot.

Miriam, will you be my friend?

I'm sure I now sound like a creepy stalker, so I will bid you all a fond goodnight.