Storm

Today, while sitting on the phone talking to Kelly, it began to rain extremely heavily. Within a minute came thunder and lightning, not terribly loud or prolific, but an electrical storm nonetheless. Then, hail. Big-ass hail, at least an inch in diameter. People were screaming and dashing about, trying to escape the heaven-sent madness. Boom boom boom, the hail bounced off of the roof, the ground, my window.

Then came the tornado sirens.

I'm from Portland, Oregon, but now I'm spending my first year of college in St. Paul, Minnesota. In Oregon a "tornado" is a puny little thing that tears down a small section of a wooden fence. In Oregon, our puny little tornados is big news. I have heard one tornado warning in Oregon. The skies were scary, with funny-shaped pitch black clouds about. I didn't see any tornados.

I went down into the basement, where we are supposed to go if a tornado warning is issued. I went to a small window (stupid, I know) and looked out. The storm seemed to be tapering off. I went back upstairs and watched it for a bit, keeping a good distance from the windows. The TV news seemed to indicate the danger was decreasing. I learned a great new word: "tornadic". The rain stopped, and I deemed it safe, so I headed over to...

Dinner

The Geography Department hosted a dinner this evening. I went over, somewhat early, just after 6. A sticker with a geographic location was stuck on everyone's back, as part of a game. Much like the one with celebrities on foreheads, each person can ask yes/no questions about their locations, until they guess it at last. My cartography professor had the Caspian Sea, which took her some 2 minutes. Mine was much harder. Within about seven minutes I narrowed it down to a city beginning with the letter "r" in European Russia. I pondered briefly, and determined that it would be in my best interest to wait for brilliance to dawn.

Soon I was in line to serve myself the glorious catered food. From the heavens to my mind fell inspiration. I paused, then turned to my cartography prof and asked, "Carol, do I end in a 'v'?" "Yes," was the response. Another pause. "Am I Rostov?" Carol, cheerfully, "Yes!" Where it came from, I don't know. I thought I was doomed to an evening with a card on my back, people's eyes growing big at the difficulty of it. But no! The answer came; I was filled with joy.