michelle, musing

davidfosterwallace:

nickzed:

Q:

“How do you remember Amherst? What are the experiences—in and out of the classroom—that shape those memories? Similarly, what aspects of your Amherst education served you best? And what are the things about Amherst that, in hindsight, disappoint you?”

A:

“I don’t know that many would remember me at all… I was cripplingly shy at Amherst. I wasn’t in a fraternity and didn’t go to parties and didn’t have much to do with the life of the College. I had a few very close friends and that was it. I studied all the time. I mean literally all the time…

So ‘the things about Amherst that, in hindsight, disappoint [me]’ are things not about Amherst but about who I was when I was there. I let almost no one know me, and I lost the chance to know and learn from most of my peers. It took years after I’d graduated from Amherst to realize that people were actually far more complicated and interesting than books, that almost everyone else suffered the same secret fears and inadequacies as I, and that feeling alone and inferior was actually the great valent bond between us all. I wish I’d been smart enough to understand that when I was an adolescent.”

— David Foster Wallace interviewed by Amherst magazine

Posted this quote by DFW earlier, but it bears repeating!

So since I’m apparently no longer being included in conversation here, I figured I’d talk about the awesome car accident I had today.

This morning, Kellen and I were going to the Coast to see the aquarium and have dinner with his parents. I fought Kellen to be the one to drive, since I was feeling extra happy this morning and wanted to prove him wrong when he said that I’d drive 10 mph around the curves going over the mountains. Anyhow, I made it over the mountains just fine, and we made it into Newport. We were driving down 101, when all of the sudden Kellen yells my name, and the next thing I know three things happen simultaneously:

1. An SUV is in front of me
2. My airbags deploy
3. We’re on the sidewalk

I realized what was happening just in time to brake before hitting a sign on the sidewalk, but I don’t know if it was my braking that kept us from hitting it or the fact that my front end was dragging the ground. In fact, I’m almost positive there was no way my brakes were working anymore at all.

I couldn’t open my door. I climbed out on Kellen’s side, but when I got out, Kellen pointed out I was missing my glasses. (I say this like I was being calm. I wasn’t. I was completely freaking out.) And then for the next hour or so, I try to figure out what has happened, talk to police, talk to insurance, and attempt to get everything taken care of—all while trying not to completely lose it. I mean, my front end on the left side is seriously about half the size it was before. Terrifying.

What happened: there were five lines of traffic. The inside lane on my side was a solid line of traffic. I was on the outside lane, which was open. One of the cars on the inside lane waved a lady in the center lane waiting to turn left through. She turned left, didn’t bother to see if there was any oncoming traffic in the other lane, and ran right out in front of me. Fortunately, I was going really slow because I was expecting someone in the inside lane to merge into my open lane, but still. I hit her hard. My chest hurts. I hit my knee really hard. I’m still finding bumps and bruises.

But Kellen and I are both okay, and while I’m the opposite of excited about buying a new car and am really going to miss my old car (I’ve had it since I was 18), I’m so grateful that everyone was okay, that everyone involved was really nice (including the lady who hit me—she accepted full responsibility), and that at the end of the day, I get to relax at home with my boyfriend and even joke about the whole thing.