Roll the Quad

Earlier in the fall, I found myself VERY perturbed by the Wake undergrad population - for many reasons (I mean, come on, I'm a grad student; isn't part of my job to look down my nose at undergrads?). For the purposes of this particular post, I was perturbed at them for their general lack of appreciation for the beautiful campus they inhabited. Empty beer cans are littered about the campus over the weekend, occasional vandalism pops up here and there, and they even TOILET PAPER the quad. Really? This place is GORGEOUS, and you are going to show that much disregard and disrespect for it? Eye roll. Pairing that with their incessant conversation about Whole Foods, shopping, vacation homes, and international travel leaves you with one thoroughly agitated Emily (stay tuned for a future vlog post imitating the conversations I overhear between undergrad girls on the shuttle: priceless). Have I mentioned the makes, models, and suggested retail prices of their cars? Yeah.

Well. It turns out that PART of the above equation is a gesture of school spirit: rolling the quad. As I followed a tour group across campus, on my way to class one day, I learned from the tour guide that rolling the quad is a Wake tradition. As she explained to the prospective students and parents the reason for the toilet paper all over the place - when a Wake sports team is victorious and the fans' enthusiasm boils over into post-game, the spectators "roll the quad" with toilet paper rolls. Students, faculty, parents, and other fans make their way to the north quad (I'm sure it has a name, but I'm a grad student and I don't know these things), and they celebrate.

Last night, Wake beat NC State (which is a HUGE deal because NC State is ranked top 25 - go Deacs). This morning, not only was I lucky enough to be the SOLE early bird rider with Ron on the shuttle (who is quickly becoming the person I talk to the most on a daily basis), but I was also lucky enough to snag a few shots of the quad before all the TP was cleaned up. Too bad the stuff didn't make it through the weekend, we might have seen some frozen TP! 

Peace, love, and a roll of toilet paper--

Emily

Yeah, You Really Got Me Now

So... classes start again on Wednesday, which is particularly unfortunate considering the fact that I was banking on the world ending over holiday break. Thanks a lot, Mayans. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad the world didn't end and all. Really, it's like we all got a second chance that we weren't supposed to get, SO I GUESS I'll take it and run with it. As a matter of fact, I think I'll use this second chance to work out a few kinks from last semester (you notice how I just managed to avoid using the term "New Year's Resolution"? Haha, cliche thwarted! Better luck next time.)

The kinks needing worked out can be summarized with two comments made to me in the last week:

1. "Emily, do you ever relax?"
2. "...and I mean this in the nicest way possible - she's nerdy like you - but that's a GOOD thing!"

Somehow I need to find a way to marry the nerd inside me to a concept that is very foreign to her: relaxation. The nerd's not going anywhere; don't you fear! I like her - she's quirky, she's quick-witted, she gets stuff done. However, the nerd needs to take a break every now and then. If I can get her to calm down about readings and grades and her unrealistic expectations for just a moment, I think we can have a little fun this semester (and now I sound like I have dissociative personality disorder - great - add that to the list).

The goal, then, is to get the nerd to relax. If you have any suggestions, I am enthusiastically accepting 3x5 notecards (unlined, white) with your recommendations written in blue or black ink at my North Carolina address. Please avoid cursive writing, and double-space. Also, any recommendations containing grammatical and/or spelling errors will be immediately discarded, as I do not take suggestions of this kind; how can I trust someone who doesn't even have a handle on the English language? I mean, really. I will review your suggestions every Wednesday evening, so plan to postmark by the Friday before. Ready? Set? Go!

Peace, love, and idiosyncrasies--

Emily 

A Bittersweet Symphony, That's Life

 I've been seeking the inspiration to sincerely and authentically open this post for nearly a week. And here it is...

After playing cards for a few hours at Grandma's (which is typical), Dad and I made our way home. However, on the way home, a beacon sounded in the sky... it made its mark known like Batman would in Gotham City. The Buehler Sign shone from Patrick's (the bar "uptown"). Inside awaited two uncles, a cousin, and a bartender whose farmland met with my grandpa's. He knew what was up.

Soon, I learned what it took to cut the head off a two-headed calf while it's still in the cow's womb. I learned about the finer points of giving mouth-to-mouth to a cow... or as much as Jason and I surmised (...about which Jason and I knew very little [and if you knew Jason, it would SHOCK you that Jason and I both knew very little about something]... but I had learned earlier in the week that he knew the steps to roast a pig; however, he did NOT know how to give mouth-to-mouth to a cow; we shared suppositions...). We got free fried bologna cubes from the bartender, and even the opportunity to take command of the remote control for the jukebox. Nearly everyone who walked in the door was a familiar face - not unusual - and that's a pretty nice luxury, if you ask me.

You know what else I learned? I learned that for men that talk a whole lot of game about floor joists and steer sales, feeding the hogs and roof trusses - these men cared a whole heck of a lot for Grandma and Grandpa Buehler. They worried about Grandma and they shared stories about Grandpa - two incredible people (although they would fight tooth and nail to declare that they are just two ORDINARY people).

Here's what I have to share of my memories...

• Grandma and Grandpa get up at 4 am so the newspaper delivery person doesn't think they're lazy. Yeah. That's right - they get up so the PAPERBOY doesn't think they're lazy... On Christmas Eve 2012, Grandpa slept in... until 4:30 am.
• Once upon a time, Andy, Mike, and Grandpa took the three-wheeler up the silage hill. Let's just say it didn't end well.
• Grandpa named his dog Newt after Newt Gingrich in the 90s, and I'll let you guess why - you have two options: 1) because he loved Newt Gingrich so much, or 2) because he thought as highly of Newt Gingrich as he thought of his farm dog that wasn't allowed to live in the house
• Grandpa spent quite a bit of his time in the Navy on the USS North Carolina.
• He used to call one of my boyfriends "the big Irishman" because it was difficult for him to keep track of the names of the boyfriends of his 17 granddaughters, as you can imagine.
• The last time my cousin, JR, was home from North Carolina, we were making small talk before heading out for the night when Grandpa said, "When I was your age, JR, I was putting knives in the bellies of Japs!" I guess that put our trip to the bar into perspective.
• Grandpa said he never had to worry because Grandma worried enough for the both of them. (Golly... I need someone like that.)
• On Christmas Eve, he was disappointed that more of the great-grandkids weren't there because he told me he had been practicing their names; 31 great-grandchildren's names are even more difficult to keep track of than the boyfriends' names of his granddaughters.
• One summer, I was serving weekday mass at church and needed a ride there. Grandpa drove me there every morning... going a cool 35 mph in a 55 mph zone. He WAS carrying precious cargo, after all.
• Grandpa told us a few weeks ago that he hadn't cooked in decades and he didn't know what he'd do without Grandma. Grandma said... that she'd make a whole lot of noise until she finally had to take a knife to a saucer in order to get Grandpa's attention that it was time for dinner. That wasn't enough, though. She would announce, "Master, dinner is served." When you're together 65 years, well...
• He was famous for his Gator rides around the pond.
• Grandpa was ALWAYS accused of cheating during card games (especially by Grandma), and he didn't have much to say about that, but the look on his face said it all.
• To split a cup of coffee, Grandma would drink from the cup with her right hand and Grandpa would flip it around and drink from the other side with his left hand. Fair is fair.
• I can't forget the smell of the soap he used and the snazzy sweatsuits he wore at night.

My cousins and uncles and aunts and grandma and others could add weeks and weeks and weeks of stories, but this is just my point of view. And it's a sad point of view, waiting for this chapter to close.

If you knew him well, you know he was quite a man - as Grandma said, he was a patient man and he was a good man, but we also know that he was clever, diligent, and kind. It's hard to even put words to the lessons that he taught us. We just are who we are because of him. In my lifetime, he was a man who spoke quietly, listened intently, and gave tremendously much... and I'm not sure that he even knew it.

Grandma was very decisive about his wishes to convey that he was "just an ordinary man," but I believe that if you look at what he left behind, you would declare it "extraordinary."

Here's to Roman George Buehler, my grandfather, and one heck of a man.

Peace, love, and family--

Emily