...and they never take a break, and they never take a rest...
I would like to pretend that the sole reason that I have not blogged for most of my life is that I have been an incredibly busy bunny, and have had much more important things to do. Actually, I am just lazy. But that is not the only way in which this song is a lie. MHC ruggers are certainly not big. Not even slightly. Although we try to convince people that we are big on the inside, often to little avail.
I have been storming New England with the Mount Holyoke Lyons, as we are supposedly called. Although I am entirely of the opinion that we should be the Mount Holyoke Gerbils or something much more fearsome like that. I even went on an adventure to Wesleyan in the rain, only to discover that the match was cancelled due to the weather. Instead all 30 of us invaded a rather small pizza place, and ended up using every chair they owned, and worked our way through approximately 37 tonnes of pizza.
Rugby is wonderful, as always, and we have some fantastic rookies in this semester. So far I have only recieved some fairly minor injuries, and only one trip to a hospital which is something of a disappointment, and I will try harder and do better in future. This semester I am going for cool-sounding injuries only, so ruptured spleen is right up there at the top. Note to Mother: unfortunately, no matter how hard I try, Eliza makes it very difficult for me to inflict these kind of injuries on myself, and just tells me that I am being a 'pain in the butt' and to get off the pitch. BUT I am finally a lineout jumper, which is basically the best thing ever, as I get lifted EXTREMELY high in the air (fear of heights is being overlooked at present, I try to pretend that I am falling head first into a pit of marshmallows or something equally squishy). It also means that I get some really wonderful hand-shaped bruises and/or chafing on my thighs, just above my knees, which is seriously cool, and definitely adds to the 'Rachel is really hardcore' image that I have going on.
The bed fort in my room has gone, and has been replaced by a gigantic bed, which mostly is used to give the illusion that my floor is tidy. Indeed my floor is tidy, as all of the mess that would be on it is now on the bed. Other changes since my last post include further developments in my training to become a real American. I ate at McDonalds in the airport on my way to Washington D.C., and was disgusted with myself; I tried to push over the Washington Monument, I dyed eggs at Easter AND was visited by the Easter Bunny who gave me a wonderful basket of goodies, including a directionally-challenged penguin.
The above learning experiences occured on my many adventures. It seems that I am now a seasoned traveller, having spent Spring Break working my way through as many of the museums in Washington D.C. as could be fitted into my four day escapade there with Allison and the Craft family, along with three Chinese students. Easter was spent a little closer to home, in Reading, Massachusetts with rugby pal Jess. It was on this adventure that I was introduced to the wonder that is the Easter Bunny. He visited us (there were even footprints outside), and left each of us a basket of goodies.
Classes this semester have been largely uneventful, with the exception of my three hour seminar, with a professor who insists that we call him 'Oh Captain, my Captain', or if we prefer, 'Captain Benfey'. Hopefully you will recognise the reference to the 1989 film, 'Dead Poets Society'. If you don't, you are now charged with the responsibility of educating yourself, as it is pretty epic.
My life has been invaded by aliens and they have sucked out my soul. In other words, Chorale has become insane with concerts every other minute, and children, old ladies, dancing and abysmal poetry. We sang 'How can I keep from singing' at a retirement home, and by the end most of us were crying. This weekend is the weekend of death because we have the Mount Holyoke spring concert, and are performing Porpora's Magnificat, 4 of Rachmaninov's Six Choruses (same as last semester), two songs in Xhosa and one in Zulu. Someone, somewhere, then thought that it would be a good idea for us to perform in Mahler's third symphony the following day. I can't wait. Then, when it is over, I can sleep again.
Other escapades have involved posing as a member of the Model United Nations so that I could join in on a trip to Canada, climbing in the boot of Hil's car with two other ruggers and a ball, learning to play soccer, a.k.a. football for all you normal people (I am really struggling with the concept of non-contact at the moment, as it seems to be much more sensible to just shove people out of my way) AND--SUNSHINE!! Massachusetts has officially left the Ice Age, and it is now warm enough to go outside without a coat on!!
But alas, now I must leave, as I have just realised that the bad smell is coming from my rugby boots, which happen to be in my bed. I might go and move them...