Right now I’m sort of bouncing off the walls. I’m terribly excited.

Ken Myers from Mars Hill tapes called me today while I was still at school
playing on the net in the computer lab with Bishop, who’d come by UM to drop
off an application for the summer honors program. I came home to find a note
on the board saying he’d call back.

The phone kept ringing all evening, a whole lot more than usual. As we were
eating, it rang yet again. “Just answer, ‘WHAT?’” Denise suggested to
whoever was answering the phone. “Yeah,” I agreed, then thought, “Then
again, it might be for me.”

It was. “Hi,” I said into the receiver as it was handed to me. “Hi, how are
you?” Ken Myers asked. “Doing great.” “Did you get the package I sent?”
“Yeah,” I said, “and I read everything in it except for the book.” “Well,
what do you think?” he asked, “Is this your sort of thing?” “I was reading
the essay you sent yesterday as I was sitting out on our back deck,” I
answered, “the one about the decline of Western culture, and I was thinking,
this is where I need to be.” “Great. Why don’t you come up here for the
summer then?” “Okay!” “I still haven’t found a place for you to stay. We
can’t offer you much, but we’ll pay you the same amount we’ll pay the
seminary student coming in, a token amount of $150 a week plus lodging.”
“Cool!” “You’ll be doing mainly administrative work,” he said, “But you’ll
be exposed to many ideas and meet lots of interesting people.”

He went on to ask when I would come. I told him that finals ended on May
first, but that some members of my household were contemplating a trip to
Colorado after school. He responded that he wouldn’t want to keep me from
the opportunity to visit Colorado by any means. He said that, if I came the
week of the 20th or the 27, that would work. We agreed to get back in touch
with each other soon.

I hung up the phone and let out a whoop.

Dad was reading Ken Myers’ book tonight and loving it. He read parts of it
outloud to us. My brother Ben is reading it right now.

In other news, I got a desperate phone call from my friend Melissa who asked,
“Could I ask you a really big favor?” “I’d do anything for you,” I answered.
She said that one of the theater people from our Shakespeare class was sick.
They are putting on several scenes from the pen of the bard tomorrow in lieu
of a paper and needed someone to read the sick girl’s part from a scene in
Much Ado About Nothing. I, of course, agreed. Which means I’ll have to skip
my much beloved psychology class.