Olivia ’12 RSS feed

About Me:

My name is Olivia and I am a senior at Butler University. I spend most of my time in Lilly Hall as a BFA Dance Performance major. When not in rehearsal or ballet class, I write papers for my English Literature second major. In my super-abundant, never-lacking, this-is-highly-sarcastic spare time, I attempt to cook in my apartment kitchen, watch Youtube videos of ballet, knit sweaters that never seem to come to an end, and read books both silly and serious. If I could take any class at Butler just for kicks, I'd go for DiffyQ.

Check us out on Facebook Follow us on Twitter! Butler's YouTube Channel Chat with a Student

Posts Tagged “Indianapolis”

Snapshot: Central Library

Here are some as-yet-unshared pictures from my visit to the Central Library in Indianapolis. Aka, the Library of Dreams and Wonder.

I love to read. If my blog archives had not been cruelly ravaged/deleted (still in mourning), I would direct you to the approximately twenty books I reviewed at the end of last summer. This year has hit me particularly hard with reading for classes, so I haven’t had so much time for fun books.

I blame physics class, my long Irish literature paper, and the spring’s twenty-two credits hours and the nine credits of English class included in that count. I blame Emily Dickinson and the Romantic poets and Herman Melville and the giant Johns Hopkins Guide to Literary Criticism and Theory I read at night and over breakfasts.

Not that literary theory isn’t fun. I love throwing around words/phrases like “hermeneutical,” “accomplished nihilist,” and “always already.” It just tends to take me a good hour or so of research to understand the basic outline of the concepts used to describe lit theory. I love the wacked-out, odd-ball things text does. I don’t so much love the headache of arriving at that conclusion. (Well, sometimes. If I understand the process, it’s wonderful.)

As I read more and more, the process becomes easier. That is to say, I don’t have to stop and decipher all those “hermeneutical,” “binary opposition,” “signifier,” and “de Manian” references.

Still, I miss quick jaunts in and out of BookWorld à la Fforde (finished One of Our Thursday is Missing–very good, not his best work, but I still read into the night to finish it). During the year, I managed to make time for a visit to Indianapolis’ huge-normous Central Library. Consider proximity to the Library of Dreams and Wonder one of the perks of attending Butler University. Pictures, commence:

The main lobby/atrium

It's HUGE!

Chilling in the sweet chairs in the kids' section.

Easter at Butler

When I was a freshman, I was sorely disappointed at being unable to go home for Easter. Some kind relatives (well, my godmother’s parents) took me and a friend in that Sunday. My friend formed a special connection with the cat.

Both last Easter and this Easter I stayed on campus and attended the Butler Catholic Community Mass. Over the years, I don’t miss my family any less, but I feel a little better spending Easter on campus. My friends here seem more like family each day.

Last Easter, I went with two dancers to the post-Mass lunch on the patio and passed a peaceful afternoon in the same vein. This Easter, I went to the lunch again. Afterwards, I shared Flying Cupcake cupcakes with my boyfriend, who had never tried them before. We have Red Velvet Elvis and Salted Chocolate Carmel. Delicious.

Holidays away from home are strange still, but finding your family at college makes Butler more like a second home.

Pre-Spring Break

The week before spring break? Not so relaxing. I lucked out in that I don’t have any midterms due this week, like many other college students. I even discovered many of my projects will be due after spring break. While I want to get most of that done before break starts so I can enjoy being home with my family, it takes the pressure off this week.

What’s going on:

  • Sleeping Beauty rehearsals
  • Mardi Gras party at the Blue House with the Butler Catholic Community. There’s a great Cajun Creole restaurant nearby called YATS. I ate a lot of YATS last night. Then I did homework.
  • Paper on Hawthorne’s The House of the Seven Gables due today (Wednesday). I’m still finishing the reading on Emerson.
  • The usual two-paper analysis for my Romanticism class tomorrow on William Blake’s “The Marriage of Heaven and Hell.” I got a bit worked up during the discussion on Tuesday, and I hope I’ll be more coherent tomorrow.
  • I’m working on a 10-page Emily Dickinson paper for the EN 185 class that’s due after/during break. (Don’t worry, would-be English majors! I’m the TA; You don’t need this paper for your normal Intro to the Discipline of English class. Everyone else will write a three page response to a poem.)
  • I have a choreography solo, a dance history paper, and a dance history midterm the week we return.

Even though I do not have too much due this week, I need to start my other projects so Spring Break will be somewhat relaxing. Does anyone else end up with homework-heavy vacations?

Thawing out?

Ever since the ice storm:

Butler’s campus has been exceptionally slippery. A few days ago, it was 1 degree as I walked to class in the morning. Today, however, is warm: It’s almost 40 right now. Do you know the difference between 0 and 40? It’s like the difference between 40 and 80.

Walking to rehearsal in Lilly Hall this morning, the birds chirping, my toes not freezing, I could feel spring on its way! Then I dropped my apple in the snow. Seasonal changes are a process.

My friends are all turning 21–yikes! It’s so odd to think we can finally drink, vote, and be drafted. The next step is getting off our parents’ health care plans, I suppose. We went out to eat at Patachou, a restaurant close enough to campus to bike. There’s still enough ice on the ground that I don’t like to ride my bike though, but if the big thaw continues, my wheels might be functional once again.

Now, every time I’ve been to Patachou, I have been disappointed. The food just does not seem good enough to merit the price. But. Last semester I had lunch with the on-campus priest there and the chili was excellent; this visit was also a success. My roommate and I split our orders, so we each got half of a turkey/bacon/avocado club and half a waffle. Delicious.

I suppose I should continue with my homework. And when I say homework, I really mean finishing all my Valentine’s Day cards and gifts.

Skewed perception

What has the Midwest done to me? Yesterday was full of sunshine, slush-free sidewalks, and a notedly absent wind. It was practically balmy! I stopped by a friend’s room on the way to the car–we were going to study at a coffee shop before doing some grocery shopping–and asked to borrow a lighter coat. My heavy winter coat just seemed to get in the way.

Freshman year snow day

“It’s 34 degrees,” I said with some surprise, checking the weather once we were installed in the corner of the Monon Coffee Company in Broad Ripple. My friend’s sweatshirt, serving as my jacket, hung from the back of my chair. (Great service today, Monon Coffee. I got the decaffinated Earl Grey, though I’m also partial to their green jasmine tea.)

The response came with a smile and head shake. “Look what the Midwest has done to you.”

I paused, considered. “Oh no! This feels warm just because it’s not freezing!” Since when has thirty-four been balmy?

Doomdoomdoom. Headdesk.

Another post about breakfast

I have not blogged so much about breakfast this year. Last year, I feel like “breakfast” might actually have shown up on my tag cloud for a little while. I think I have more of a life now and have more to talk about. That’s just a theory, mind you.

However, this post relates both to life and to breakfast! (As if breakfast weren’t life. I love breakfast.) My dancer roommate turned twenty-one this past Sunday, and we celebrated by having brunch at Zest! (I’m not actually excited enough to use two exclamation points in one paragraph–the restaurant is called “Zest!”)

Indianapolis has loads of awesome breakfast places. My current favorite is the Three Sisters’ Cafe, but I also enjoy Taste, Zest!, and Le Peep. I have also heard wonderful reviews of Good Morning Mama’s.

Breakfast was good, but even better were the crayons on the table. We all drew lovely pictures on the tablecloth. Here’s mine:

I’m not sure what this collection of images reveals about me, but I shall explain them in case you cannot figure out what my scribbles are supposed to be.

Tour of the tablecloth:

Starting in the upper left, you see some text that belonged to a rendering of my roommate. Traveling clockwise, the next drawing we encounter is a stick figure typing an Irish Literature paper and being distracted. Then come the fireworks with a few physics equations to go with it–the kinetic energy of a rotating body and the kinematic equation for the velocity of the center of mass. (I hope. I have a physics test coming up.)

Math aside, we have a blue figure that was originally a person but had, for reasons of good taste, to be scribbled out. She/he/it is is holding a bass. Then we see some colorful blocks of squares. Off in the corner is a chef holding a spoon: NOT an ice cream cone, thank you very much. I’m not a great artist, but I’m not that bad. Mostly.

In the middle is a green woman with a curly perm. To the bottom is a tipsy, blonde woman in a huge bustle skirt. The last math-type object is a horrible, horrible recollection of a LaPlace Transform. DO NOT believe anything I ever say about math. L{cosh(theta)} does not equal what I said it does.

L {cosh(alpha*t)} = s / [(s^2) - (alpha^2)]

What does that mean? Apart from the fact that a hyperbolic cosine is oscillating (and doesn’t it normally do that anyway?), I have no idea. I just think it looks neat.

Starstruck: the sequel

Last year, I went to the Indianapolis City Ballet‘s Gala performance and saw the likes of Joaquin De Luz, Tiler Peck, Sarah Lane, Alicia Amatriain, Jason Reilly, Gennadi Saveliev, Miquel Quinones, Anastasia and Denis Matvienko, David Hallberg, and Julie Kent. This year, we (with the help of the dance fraternity Sigma Rho Delta) did it again!

The program was impressive, and show even more so, perhaps because I was sitting in the second row, smack-dab in the center of the theater. The one bad part of this year’s gala experience? I could not see any of the dancers’ feet. In a line-up like this, I know the feet would have be gorgeous.

Line-up: Elisa Carrillo Cabrera (fierce), Marcelo Gomes, Mikhail Kaniskin, Julie Kent (no comment), Vitali Krauchenka, Misa Kuranaga, Natalia Osipova (!!! Yah!!! So beautiful), Miguel Quinones, Daniil Simkin, Damian Smith, Yuan Yuan Tan (ethereal), Ivan Vasiliev (extremely energetic, probably eats his meat raw and still attached to living goats), and Veronika Verterich.

Because I couldn’t see the feet, I focused on the face and upper body. Normally, I’m a feet-and-leg person. When a dancer walks onstage, I automatically check out the lower-limb line. This time, however, I was close enough to hear Julie Kent breathing, and I was blown away by the artistry in the smallest of gestures. They were all so personable! When the performers walked downstage for their bows, it seemed like they were looking directly at me.

This was a good thing, since I have officially Fallen In Love. Daniil Simkin has my heart, now and forever. I’m following him on Twitter. When he bowed after his second piece–the charmingly eccentric Les Bourgeious–I should have stood to clap. He would have seen me and fallen instantly in love, and we’d currently be eloping in Argentina. Or in Paris, since that’s where he’s currently performing at the time I’m writing this.

YouTube Preview Image

Alas, I stayed in my seat. Nevertheless, we were close enough to see each little smirk as he danced to (and as) Jacques Brel. I could hear him coughing (it’s part of the choreography). I could see him mouthing the words of the song. It was awesome. His first piece, the pas de deux from Le Corsaire, was breathtaking. Even more impressive than all his jumps–he must have swallowed some helium before his variation or something–and his articulation of porte de bras was his face. Just before he began a turn (or turns, I should say, since he spun like a top), he would let loose this huge grin as he pliéed, as if he were saying, “Look what I can do, haha!”

I’m in love.