ddrt

I've become one of those pathetic losers who graduates from Dordt but just can't let go. I used to scorn them. Dordt in the fall is an interesting place to be. It makes me a little bit uncomfortable, to tell you the truth. The freshmen take over and I find myself wishing they'd just go away until second semester when they've adjusted a little. Now, I realize that it's only natural for them to seem a little misplaced since most of them really have no idea what's going on, but must they giggle so much, and can't they put on more clothing? I think the middle east has forever ruined my tolerance (which was minimal before) for scantily clothed women. But then, after some internal ranting, I remember what I was like as a freshman. I don't remember being a giggling, tube-top wearing, brainless bimbo, but I was more highschool than college. Anyway, it's a good time to leave.

Speaking of leaving. I'm doing that tomorrow. At 3:30 Dad and I will head off for the wild, wild west. I'm a little bit nervous, but also excited. It will be nice to be in B.C. I like B.C. Everyone should go to B.C.

In a few days, when I've put more stuff on here, I'll send this address to people. But for now this is my own nice little secret place. Interesting things will start happening in my life soon, and then I'll have interesting things to say. If I'd have had this blog during the summer, it would have consisted mostly of: I washed a wall today. Then I cleaned an oven. And then later, I painted all the cracks between the cinder blocks in a hallway in Coveneant Hall. Boring, boring, boring. Who wants to read that? Those reading this have probably stopped already. The end.

Oh, and you might ask, why did she call this blog "margo the lion." Several reasons. I will tell them to you. First, Margo is because a few years ago some of my friends started calling me Margo after they watched the Royal Tennenbaums. (There's a character named Margo, if you haven't seen it. She's a secret smoker and has a wooden finger.) The Margo thing just sort of stuck. My secret hope is that they will soon start calling me Margo T. (Well not so secret anymore.) The lion part is because last semester, when I was in Egypt, my good friend Jack send me an email with the subject line, "margo the lion." I kind of liked it. I like to think of myself as fierce like a lion. Most people probably don't think I'm fierce, but they haven't seen me mad. It doesn't happen very often. I realize that "margo the lion" has two words the same as the name of a band, but that's fine with me if it's okay with you.