Not to Paint too Bright a Picture

Nate brings up a good point regarding Asbury: there were quite a few legalistic and judgmental individuals there (including professors -- one of whom asserted that he was entirely sanctified, yet I watched him belittle female students and saw him on multiple occasions hock loogies on the wall of the gymnasium as he ran around it).

The "community" was another thing: everyone talked about what a great community they were a part of, but if you didn't live on campus, you weren't part of it. And if you did live on campus, everyone knew all your business (as an aside: the housing office, that told us they had all sorts of options to help students find off-campus housing, really had a page of some outdated apartment rental listings). The spouse ministry wasn't aimed at all toward my wife -- she hated it. And in the orientation week, they had events for married students and single students: while the singles got to go on a boat ride on the Kentucky River, the married students got a lame-o coffee house in the cafeteria, in which nobody spoke to me (Tara had to work). For all the talk of community, there were only a couple of people who ever actually ever stepped foot in my house, and I only really keep touch with 3 of my classmates (Nate, Chad, and Jeff). And besides the Sunday afternoon "volleyball" (if you can call it that) games, there was almost nothing offered for my wife. She audited one class, but it was so boring that she lost interest after a couple of sessions.

I got sick of chapel, namely because I would almost always end up sitting by myself, but also because the music was usually boring (though I have to admit, the Asburians sang with gusto) -- hint for the choir: maybe if you looked like you actually believed what you were singing, it would help the music, too. What I disliked most about chapel was when they introduced the visitors, there would be wild, raucous cheering, not for them, per se, but for the states they were from. It all seemed pretty self-serving and juvenile to me.

And it always seemed like when I was running late going to class was when I got behind "Eggs" - the slowest driver ever (I once saw him get passed by a backhoe - going uphill!).