Category: Claire Davanzo (page 5 of 5)

The author with her sonic screwdriver from Dr. Who

Netflix Spring Break

March 22, 2013 / / 2 Comments

Congratulations, UD: you’ve finally made it. You’ve reached Spring Break. Your midterms are finished, your windows and doors are locked, and mere hours stand between you and an extravagant, expensive expedition or excursion; an exotic exploration of an extremely ex—

What, you mean you’re not doing that?

Trust me, I feel your pain. UD runs some amazing alternative Spring Break trips, both recreational and service-oriented, but with my schedule and budget, those just aren’t in the picture for me this semester. Which is why when I arrive back at home-sweet-Parsippany-New-Jersey-home, I’ll be snuggling up with a big cup of hot chocolate and the beautiful, red wonderland of Netflix. You, too, can manage this with the simple ease of $8 a month and all the movies and TV you could possibly want.

That said, here are my time-sensitive recommendations for your Netflix Spring Break..

I’ll have a few hours here and there. Recommendation: BBC’s Sherlock. This modern adaptation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s classic detective novels is brilliant in ways that are simply elementary, my dear Watsons. Each episode is only an hour and a half, and to date, there is a grand total of six episodes (fans of the show are sometimes called “the Fandom that Waited,” because it takes so long for new episodes to come out). Sherlock has a sarcastic, utterly British sense of humour, and should not be watched sleep-deprived.

I have about enough time to watch one season of a show. Recommendation: Fox’s Firefly. About one season is exactly what you get with this staggeringly captivating sci-fi show (one season, plus a movie). From the mighty Joss Whedon comes Captain Mal Reynolds, a retired army veteran of a war long since ended; his first mate and fellow veteran, Zoe; and the rest of their cobbled-together crew. The show exudes mystery, and although I’ve not finished the series yet (because I’m holding out as long as I can to keep something to look forward to), I hear the ending is heartbreaking.

I will probably be getting cozy with my laptop. Recommendation: AMC’s The Walking Dead. The words I’ve most recently heard used to describe this horror drama are “scary” and “emotionally draining,” so set aside a stable chunk of time this break. The show follows Sheriff’s deputy Rick Grimes as he and the remaining survivors of this post-apocalyptic world attempt to survive on an Earth dominated by “walkers,” or zombies.

What is a social life? Recommendation: BBC’s Doctor Who. The longest-running sci-fi show in history (sprinting towards its 50th anniversary next year!) is worth every instant of your free time this break. And I’m not just saying that because Doctor Who is my absolute favourite on this list. The show follows the Doctor (not Doctor Who), a two-hearted Time Lord who whirls around the universe in his TARDIS, and the companions he picks up along the way. If you choose to watch, do yourself a favour and start where Netflix suggests: with the 2005 episode “Rose.”

The author with her sonic screwdriver from Dr. Who

Allons-y!

~Claire Davanzo

Copyright (c) in 2011 euroelevators.com. All rights Reserved

Why do elevators have to be awkward?

March 15, 2013 / / Comments Off on Why do elevators have to be awkward?

Christiana East Tower, for those of you who don’t know, has seventeen floors. That’s two more than its counterpart West, and (I’m willing to bet, at least) more than any other building on campus. Living as I do on the fifteenth floor of East, I basically have three options. The first is to properly sync up the teleport we’re hiding in our bathroom (and it doesn’t meet the room regulations, so shh); the second is to get in shape by racing up and down thirty flights of stairs (two flights each to get between floors); the third is to take the elevator.

And while that third option may seem the most attractive at first, it means squirming and shifting in the irrationally painful aura of the elevator ride itself. No matter how many people cram themselves into the elevator (and I’ve been in one with as many as eleven), I think they somehow all silently agree not to speak a single word to the person smushed into their ribcage or nudged into the back corner for fear of actual social interaction. Furthermore, as people start to get out, those remaining in the elevator shift into formations that allow them to stay as far away from the other people as possible.

Copyright (c) in 2011 euroelevators.com. All rights Reserved

Common ways to avoid speaking in the elevator include staring pointedly at your phone, fiddling with your keys, watching the light over the doors move from floor to floor, or jamming your thumb down on the ‘door close’ button every time someone gets even their toe out into a hallway. It might just be the study of silence I’ve been conducting in my Honors ENGL394 class, but to me, this is both remarkable and a little bit saddening.

Elevators are a normal part of life, and even if there’s someone who’s so petrified of them that he or she is reduced to silence upon the usage of one, surely not all of us are plagued with this affliction. Why, then, are we reduced to silence upon entering an elevator? Feel free to comment your reasoning below.

Personally, the next time I get on the elevator (which should be in less than a few hours, in all honesty), I intend to start a conversation, no matter how small, with the people standing in there with me. We are all people, and I don’t think there’s any reason why friendliness shouldn’t be the norm. So if you’re in the East elevator and some caffeinated brunette starts chatting with you… hello.

Unless you’re the guy who takes the elevator from the first floor to the third floor. You get the silent treatment.

~Claire Davanzo

Hakuna Matata

March 8, 2013 / / 3 Comments

I live in Christiana East Tower, which is all the way in the far reaches of North Campus. This means that most days, I end up taking the bus to and from my classes. Normally, these ten-minute bus rides consist of one of two things.

The first: I slouch as deeply into the seat as humanly possible, tuck my chin against my scarf-wrapped neck and legitimately consider trying to sleep for several more minutes, regardless of the time of day. The second: I cling to a metal handrail, sandwiched between the girl who needs a foot of elbow room to text and the guy who has a precariously lidless cup of coffee hovering dangerously close to my white t-shirt.

Please don’t misunderstand me: the Express line has been my saving grace this year. If not for the bus, I’m quite sure I would have missed more than a few classes at the hands of long walks through paradoxically horizontal rain. I’m just giving you an idea of how unpleasant the bus rides can be so that when I tell you what happened to me this week, you can appreciate it all the more.

This week, after slugging through four hours of non-stop, early morning class, I staggered onto the bus to find a rather unusual sound greeting me. Normally, the soundtracks of bus rides consist of typical Top-40 stations, or else the chatter of the bus drivers talking over the radio, drone on over the swoosh-whoosh of the bus engines and fans. On this particular day, however, I walked onto the bus to the nostalgically familiar “Hakuna Matata.”

Now, I know what you’re thinking. How and why on Earth is a bus radio playing “Hakuna Matata?” If I could provide you with an answer to that, rest assured that I would. What I can tell you is that the smile that lit up my face was so bright I think I may have sprained a facial muscle, and I wasn’t the only one grinning that way. The normally blank faces of the students on the bus were replaced with lips mouthing lyrics, people chattering about the movie, and connecting in ways that aren’t generally commonplace on busse

Not only did hearing that song brighten up my (and everyone else’s) day, but through the haze of my madly stressful week, it reminded me of the “no worries” part of the song. That with all the anxiety and pressure from class, and other obligations, sometimes we college students forget to breathe and love where we are, and to be happy about the things we’ve done.

Odds are you’re having a week like I am. You’ve got this or that many papers and exams to deal with, not to mention calling your parents (Hi, Mom!), cleaning your room, and struggling to fit in some free time this weekend. Just let me remind you

Hakuna Matata. What a wonderful phrase. Have a great weekend, UD.

~Claire Davanzo

Dr. Maya Angelou

The Angelou Effect

March 1, 2013 / / 3 Comments

Dr. Maya Angelou

Of all the things I had imagined that Dr. Maya Angelou would be when I attended her speech at the Bob Carpenter Center last Friday, the last thing on my mind was alive. Wise? Certainly. With a past such as Dr. Angelou’s, working with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcom X in the long-standing fight for civil rights, she has more than made her way into the world, and would naturally have that air of experience about her. Passionate? Of course. Dr. Angelou is a renowned poet laureate and the author of the beautiful classic I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. Awe-inspiring, magnificent, inspirational… I expected all of these adjectives and more from Dr. Angelou, but none fits her so well as the simplest: alive.

Maya Angelou visits the University of Delaware. Photograph by Claire Davanzo.

Despite her wheel-chair, Dr. Angelou arrived on stage with an astounding presence and charisma. Not only was she every inch as charismatic as I heard she’d be, she was funny in a way that had her audience laughing within the first minute of her discussion (I say discussion because although she was the only one speaking, it felt like a dialogue, she was so attuned to her audience). Dr. Angelou told dozens of moving stories, proclaimed quotable lines every time she opened her mouth, but one moment in particular stood out to me in a way I will remember for the rest of my life.

“Don’t you know I have something to say? And I don’t intend to leave here until I say it.”

The first time Dr. Angelou said this she meant it as a joke. She had just appeared on stage and was teasing about how long it had taken the staff to actually let her come in and start her speech, but I felt something serious in those words.  Sure enough, towards the end of her forty minute talk, those words returned, powerful and packed with meaning. Dr. Angelou’s entire life story, no matter which part we look at, is about saying what we mean to say without backing down or worrying what others might think. I didn’t realise I was crying until I heard one of the tears splash down onto my notepad, and as I looked around, I wasn’t surprised in the least to find that everyone else listening was tearful too.

Toward the end of a tough, homework-filled week, I had the honour and privilege of seeing and hearing Dr. Maya Angelou, and even in that bare hour, I felt my perspective shift. We all have things we are meant to say, things we have to say, and I think we can only hope that the words we share will hold meaning for someone else, somewhere.

Don’t you know I have something to say? And I don’t intend to leave here until I write it.

~Claire Davanzo

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