Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Love Lotion #9

I have the mother of all papers due on Friday.

As I sit here, pouring over New York Times articles and deciphering my own notes from interviews, I realize that I have been neglecting the most important journalistic endeavor of all time.

Duffluff.

Last year around this time I wrote about a great quote from a great woman.

"Being in love is being late to work."

Said by my much loved, three time religion/women studies professor, mentor, and grad school recommender, Wanda Wilcox.

This follow up post will be two fold.

One: a story about this wonderful professor.

It is my last semester in college and quite naturally my advisor misadvised me, so that while I thought I was done with all religion classes last May, I actually have to take three this semester to fulfill the major.

It is rare in this major that the majority of a class is the seminary-bound, Christian type. May seem contradictory, but it's just not how religion majors are.

The typical religion major can be found with unwashed, longer hair, worn jeans with one leg rolled up (cause he rode his bike to class...obvi), thick rimmed glasses, and a cigarette outside of Peabody Hall. Most likely chatting up and challenging one of his professors, who is also indulging in a cigarette.

I, on the other hand, wear sorority t-shirts, a long pony tail, and the Nike shorts that solidify my position as a white girl from Alpharetta. This is neither here nor there.

Point of that was- I'm in TWO classes this semester that are majority Christians. This is rare, people. Very rare. The classes happened to be titled "Gospel of John" and "Modern Christian Theology." Interesting that they wouldn't want to learn about other religions to expand their knowledge and open their minds, but I digress.

My other class, with my favorite teacher? "Feminist Spirituality."

Can you guess what people are like in that class?

Anyway, we didn't have class last week because Wilcox was sick. Yesterday in class, there was an accident.

As Wilcox taught, she took a step towards her podium. Picture a "where I place my music while I attempt to play notes on my trumpet in 4th grade" podium, not a sturdy podium, made of wood or any other reliable substance.

In a moment of expression, Wilcox went to lean her elbows on the podium, sending the thing crashing to the ground, scattering books, binders, and pride. It remained on the ground, in two pieces, for a moment until Wilcox sighed and said, "Y'all are gonna have to excuse me, I'm high on cough syrup today. It said no heavy machinery but I guess they should have included podiums."

Thus solidifying her as STILL my favorite.


Two: rewriting the Wilcox quote.

My wonderful, beautiful, successful sisters traveled down from North Carolina this past weekend to visit with me and see where I've been living for four years.





Ashley is highly allergic to poison ivy. She is the girl who somehow got it in her eye in the 5th grade and came down the stairs the next morning with her eyes swollen shut.

Well, wouldn't you know it, she got it again. As smart as that woman is, she isn't always the quickest learner. A week after the actual contact with the ivy, Ashley rolled into Athens with arms and legs covered in welts and calamine lotion.

Luckily the lotion was clear, so it didn't look like dried Pepto Bismol, but when it dried it did look like her skin was flaking off. Unfortunately, her sisters aren't the most compassionate or medically inclined people ever, so she did all the rubbing and such while we gave disapproving looks and told her it smelled.

During the week prior that she was home, however, her husband helped. While my sister was in pain, itching and squirming, darling Hunter took care of her. Now normal "taking care" coming from me would include a pat on the back and an offer to go get ice cream together.

Hunter went above and beyond.

Truly encompassing "in sickness and in health," Hunter not only lotioned and then hairdryer-ed Ashley, he also gave her an oatmeal bath to soothe her.

And so, in honor of my favorite brother-in-law on this Valentine's Day, I am rewriting Wanda Wilcox's quote.

"Being in love is giving them an oatmeal bath."

No comments:

Post a Comment