I've been in seminary for almost two months now, and I've come a long way from biting back tears of fear and homesickness by the luggage carousel at Ben Gurion. I've acquired bits of wisdom when it comes to seminary life, such as taking the stairs slowly (I've nearly slammed into rabbis multiple times) and bringing a backpack to go grocery shopping (unless, you know, you enjoy the sensation of your arms falling off). But a reality that I'm still learning to accept is that privacy is virtually nonexistant.
There are exceptions, of course - over Sukkot, I had my room to myself because my two roommates slept out most nights. But for the most part, there will always be someone else around, whether you like it or not.
I've learned this the hard way many times now. Just tonight, I was about to update this blog when a bunch of my friends in the computer lab saw the page and asked if it was mine. I haven't posted anything I'm not proud of here, and I'm a terrible liar anyway, so I confirmed their suspicions.
Subsequently, they all pulled up the page on their browsers, and after squeals of excitement, a friend decided to start a blog of her own. I was actually wheezing of laughter as she penned her first post. If you're interested, her blog is titled "Forever a Bird Lover Wanna Be Ornatholigist," and it talks about "margarine melting down your heart" as you consider birds and their emotions. I'll let you have the pleasure of discovering the rest for yourself.
When it comes to the bizzarre universe of seminary, you can let these little things get to you, or you can see the humor in it and laugh. A few months ago, maybe the whole lack of privacy situation would have made me want to run to the desert and live among rattlesnakes and scorpions just for some peace and quiet.
But the older, wiser me just laughs and lets the margarine melt.