For Real
I want to write something, before I forget or lose my nerve. I know I spent most of my time on this thing complaining or ranting or planning how to rule the world. That's not going to change or anything, but I have to do this, because more than all of my freakouts and rants and ridiculous ideas, this is what really makes my life, and it's important that it gets written down at some point, so that if I happen to die in a mack truck accident or if I just never say it, it's somewhere. If there's an entry to read, this may be it. All the way through.
Once, when I had a really bad day, my friend Amanda bought me a crossword puzzle book. For weeks after, we would go to each other's room and work on a puzzle. We used to argue over who got to write the clues in the book, and if we messed up, we'd give each other a hard time about messing the whole thing up. I still have that book in my desk drawer. The thing is, some days, I'll feel like doing a puzzle, but I can't without her. I've dragged that $1.00 book from room to room to room in the past two years, just as uncomplete as it was when we did our last puzzle. And I will tell you, I'm always real careful with it.
When I got the RA job, my friend Liz gave me a card with a butterfly on it. I don't really like butterflies, but it was a great card. She wrote some of the nicest things on that card, and I kept in the same drawer as the crossword puzzle book. She also printed out a sheet of coloring book paper and colored this random Sesame Street cartoon. I bet anybody who doesn't know Liz doesn't get why she'd do this, but I know her and I don't question it for a second. I put it up right on my wall last year, and when I came back to my room this year, it went right back to its spot.
Last April, one of my favorite residents gave me three Red Sox tickets. This was before I was working for them, so free tickets to an afternoon Sox tickets were just ridiculous. I ran downstairs to Jen and Yeshman's room and told them they were going to a Red Sox game the following afternoon. "And the best part," I sang to them, in this ridiculous voice, "is that they're freeeeeeeeeeee!" And I proceeded to do a horrible, horrible, HORRIBLE ballet dance around the room just in complete elation. And you know what? They laughed at me, but they let me do it. And they didn't tell anyone else about it, besides Liz and Amanda.
I watched all of the Red Sox postseason with Vicky. We began the postseason with glasses of Miller Lite, sitting side by side, and we ended it the same way. It's funny, how I didn't know her very long but couldn't imagine watching a game without her and our traditions. We had serious debates every day about which Red Sox shirts to wear, and she's the only person I know who I can have these kinds of conversations with and still maintain my self-respect.
Last winter, before break, I went to study with Andy at Espresso Royale and he gave me this random piece of metal he'd made in class. I questioned whether he had really made it, or whether he had just found trash and given it to me. I don't think he really liked that I would even wonder about the validity of his metal gift. Anyhow, I've kept it on my shelf ever since. Every now and then I'll hold it and see how smooth it is, and I'll think he must be talented at making random pieces of metal, or it's a very easy machine process. But I'll also remember studying and having class with him and hearing his life theories and plans. For a minute, I'll wish he was back in an English class with me.
My friend Kate and I are always trying not to get killed. We both are horrible at crossing the street, so she's the one person I can't get too embarrassed in front of. She's always just trying to get by, too, and it's good to have someone who's having just the same trouble as you are.
Stef and I didn't spend much time together when she actually lived in Warren Towers, but I feel like I'm closer to her now than before. I can count on Stef for loving Jason Varitek and for driving with me on any adventure I choose, and that's why I like her. And her car.
Marisa introduced me to Chef Chang's, and she doesn't mind that I tell her that's her greatest contribution in our friendship.
Victoria gets herself in trouble, but she thinks about every aspect of everything, and she always is sure to remind me that I'm not as great or funny as I think I am. She makes me think about every decision I make. If it weren't for her, I would never wear nice shoes and still consider flip flops with sequins as formal footwear.
He drives me nuts because he's a Yankees fan, and because I really do wonder whether he's always trying to put one over me, but Paul is a good guy. He'll let me ask any question and he'll have an answer. It might not always be right, but it's an answer. I've been in the School of Education for three and a half years, and he's the best advisor I've had.
I used to think it was impossible to have a genuine conversation with Aaron, but that's not true. He's the most sarcastic person I know, but he's also witty and funny. And Jay Leno's right: you just can't stay mad at anyone who makes you laugh.
Leah and I became friends our first week of school. We were sitting in the GSU - though she argues that we were somewhere else - when we said, "How do you know you're really friends with someone?" And we answered the question by agreeing to be friends. Whether because of that promise or because we really do like each other, we're still friends.
I could write a funny story about Seth, because there are tons of them. But what I really think I will always, always remember about Seth isn't funny at all, and doesn't involve him making fun of me in any way. When my parenst got divorced, I didn't really talk about it with anyone. And Seth and I didn't really discuss anything serious at that time, but his parents were divorced and he would always show genuine interest and concern. Anyhow, when I got back from Thanksgiving, we all met up for dinner and we hadn't seen Seth since he was in the hospital after his lung collapsed. Even though we were all asking about him and making sure he was okay, at one point, when everyone had gotten up from the table to get some more food or something, and it was just me, him, and Dave, he leaned over and asked me how my Thanksgiving had gone. "Good," I had told him. "No, really," he pressed. "How was it?" And in that moment, I knew that even though his lung was a little iffy, his heart was just right.
Brad and Razi took their shirts off when Victoria and I wanted to take pictures on one of our last days on 5A. For that, me and half of the girls I know are thankful.
My friends Merry and Meredith have absolutely no shame when discussing any topic. I'll sit there, dying of embarrassment, and they'll keep talking like it's nothing. Believe it or not, they've taught me to take myself less seriously. I still want to kill them when they're talking really loudly about, well, see, I won't even write it, but even when I want to kill them, I still really want to hear what they have to say.
Bev and I ate breakfast every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday last year, and she didn't get mad when I always ran late. She didn't mind when I spilled something on my shirt every day and obsessed over it for the rest of the breakfast. And, she didn't laugh too much at me when I freaked out over being front row at the hockey game, fearing that the players would bang right into the glass. She also watched every March Madness game with me and was rooting for the UConn men just as much as I was, and she believed just as much as I did that they would really win it all.
I met Radhai when I went to London a few summers ago, right at the beginning when I was really homesick. She thought I was a major loser for being so homesick and actually considering returning to the States rather than finishing out the term, but she still hung out with me. She would say the most ridiculous things, like when we were in the park having a picnic and she said, "You get the biscuits, I'll cut the cheese." She would laugh when I (jokingly!) made fun of her for being Indian, and she would eat ice cream bars and grapes with me when it was a thousand degrees out and there was no air conditioning. I haven't seen in since August 2003, but I feel like if I ran into her on the street tomorrow, we could sit and have a real conversation and laugh for hours.
I knew Dan before I really knew him. We were on the same RA staff, but it wasn't until he started having breakfast with me and Bev that I got to talk to him. We really became friends the night I went into his room and demanded he help me. He made the mistake of listening to me, and he's been stuck listening to me ever since. Sometimes I wonder if he wishes he had class at the time when Bev and I ate breakfast, or if he wishes he hadn't been home that first night that we played cards and he helped me plan my life. His life would be simpler, I'm sure, but mine, well, I think mine would be less complete.
Maggie used to wear this Lafargeville teeshirt every night. When we were first roommates, I believed it had some special significance because she literally wore that thing every chance she got. Finally, she told me she got it at the Salvation Army or something, I think. She got it because she liked the number 13 on it. She also liked Claire's jewelry store, which drove me nuts. But she would wait in the burrito line with me at Warren and she didn't mind when I added obnoxious items to her to-do list daily. And, perhaps most importantly, she gave me the name Roomus.
Dave T. Gallie doesn't wave. He won't do it. I'll be maybe five feet away from the kid, and he still won't wave. He just doesn't like to do it. Dave would spend hours in my room sophomore year. I'd say, "Dave, umm, I'm doing work now." And he would say, "Okay." And he would just sit there and look into space. We'd have great conversations - I'd tell him all my stories, these horrible random stories that nobody else wants to even sit through. And the thing about Dave is, he would ask if I had any stories for him, every day. He didn't talk much, but he let me share every story I thought of. He let me do whatever I wanted. I smelled my feet in front of him. I would spit my gum out into my empty water bottles in front of him. And you know what the best part was? He still came back the next day.
William James is the author of my favorite quote. He wrote, "Wherever you are, it is your friends who make your world." And when I think about my friends, when I think about all of the jokes, all of the times they've helped me out or listened to me or laughed at me, when I think of all of the memories they hold for me, I can't help but believe he's absolutely right.
Once, when I had a really bad day, my friend Amanda bought me a crossword puzzle book. For weeks after, we would go to each other's room and work on a puzzle. We used to argue over who got to write the clues in the book, and if we messed up, we'd give each other a hard time about messing the whole thing up. I still have that book in my desk drawer. The thing is, some days, I'll feel like doing a puzzle, but I can't without her. I've dragged that $1.00 book from room to room to room in the past two years, just as uncomplete as it was when we did our last puzzle. And I will tell you, I'm always real careful with it.
When I got the RA job, my friend Liz gave me a card with a butterfly on it. I don't really like butterflies, but it was a great card. She wrote some of the nicest things on that card, and I kept in the same drawer as the crossword puzzle book. She also printed out a sheet of coloring book paper and colored this random Sesame Street cartoon. I bet anybody who doesn't know Liz doesn't get why she'd do this, but I know her and I don't question it for a second. I put it up right on my wall last year, and when I came back to my room this year, it went right back to its spot.
Last April, one of my favorite residents gave me three Red Sox tickets. This was before I was working for them, so free tickets to an afternoon Sox tickets were just ridiculous. I ran downstairs to Jen and Yeshman's room and told them they were going to a Red Sox game the following afternoon. "And the best part," I sang to them, in this ridiculous voice, "is that they're freeeeeeeeeeee!" And I proceeded to do a horrible, horrible, HORRIBLE ballet dance around the room just in complete elation. And you know what? They laughed at me, but they let me do it. And they didn't tell anyone else about it, besides Liz and Amanda.
I watched all of the Red Sox postseason with Vicky. We began the postseason with glasses of Miller Lite, sitting side by side, and we ended it the same way. It's funny, how I didn't know her very long but couldn't imagine watching a game without her and our traditions. We had serious debates every day about which Red Sox shirts to wear, and she's the only person I know who I can have these kinds of conversations with and still maintain my self-respect.
Last winter, before break, I went to study with Andy at Espresso Royale and he gave me this random piece of metal he'd made in class. I questioned whether he had really made it, or whether he had just found trash and given it to me. I don't think he really liked that I would even wonder about the validity of his metal gift. Anyhow, I've kept it on my shelf ever since. Every now and then I'll hold it and see how smooth it is, and I'll think he must be talented at making random pieces of metal, or it's a very easy machine process. But I'll also remember studying and having class with him and hearing his life theories and plans. For a minute, I'll wish he was back in an English class with me.
My friend Kate and I are always trying not to get killed. We both are horrible at crossing the street, so she's the one person I can't get too embarrassed in front of. She's always just trying to get by, too, and it's good to have someone who's having just the same trouble as you are.
Stef and I didn't spend much time together when she actually lived in Warren Towers, but I feel like I'm closer to her now than before. I can count on Stef for loving Jason Varitek and for driving with me on any adventure I choose, and that's why I like her. And her car.
Marisa introduced me to Chef Chang's, and she doesn't mind that I tell her that's her greatest contribution in our friendship.
Victoria gets herself in trouble, but she thinks about every aspect of everything, and she always is sure to remind me that I'm not as great or funny as I think I am. She makes me think about every decision I make. If it weren't for her, I would never wear nice shoes and still consider flip flops with sequins as formal footwear.
He drives me nuts because he's a Yankees fan, and because I really do wonder whether he's always trying to put one over me, but Paul is a good guy. He'll let me ask any question and he'll have an answer. It might not always be right, but it's an answer. I've been in the School of Education for three and a half years, and he's the best advisor I've had.
I used to think it was impossible to have a genuine conversation with Aaron, but that's not true. He's the most sarcastic person I know, but he's also witty and funny. And Jay Leno's right: you just can't stay mad at anyone who makes you laugh.
Leah and I became friends our first week of school. We were sitting in the GSU - though she argues that we were somewhere else - when we said, "How do you know you're really friends with someone?" And we answered the question by agreeing to be friends. Whether because of that promise or because we really do like each other, we're still friends.
I could write a funny story about Seth, because there are tons of them. But what I really think I will always, always remember about Seth isn't funny at all, and doesn't involve him making fun of me in any way. When my parenst got divorced, I didn't really talk about it with anyone. And Seth and I didn't really discuss anything serious at that time, but his parents were divorced and he would always show genuine interest and concern. Anyhow, when I got back from Thanksgiving, we all met up for dinner and we hadn't seen Seth since he was in the hospital after his lung collapsed. Even though we were all asking about him and making sure he was okay, at one point, when everyone had gotten up from the table to get some more food or something, and it was just me, him, and Dave, he leaned over and asked me how my Thanksgiving had gone. "Good," I had told him. "No, really," he pressed. "How was it?" And in that moment, I knew that even though his lung was a little iffy, his heart was just right.
Brad and Razi took their shirts off when Victoria and I wanted to take pictures on one of our last days on 5A. For that, me and half of the girls I know are thankful.
My friends Merry and Meredith have absolutely no shame when discussing any topic. I'll sit there, dying of embarrassment, and they'll keep talking like it's nothing. Believe it or not, they've taught me to take myself less seriously. I still want to kill them when they're talking really loudly about, well, see, I won't even write it, but even when I want to kill them, I still really want to hear what they have to say.
Bev and I ate breakfast every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday last year, and she didn't get mad when I always ran late. She didn't mind when I spilled something on my shirt every day and obsessed over it for the rest of the breakfast. And, she didn't laugh too much at me when I freaked out over being front row at the hockey game, fearing that the players would bang right into the glass. She also watched every March Madness game with me and was rooting for the UConn men just as much as I was, and she believed just as much as I did that they would really win it all.
I met Radhai when I went to London a few summers ago, right at the beginning when I was really homesick. She thought I was a major loser for being so homesick and actually considering returning to the States rather than finishing out the term, but she still hung out with me. She would say the most ridiculous things, like when we were in the park having a picnic and she said, "You get the biscuits, I'll cut the cheese." She would laugh when I (jokingly!) made fun of her for being Indian, and she would eat ice cream bars and grapes with me when it was a thousand degrees out and there was no air conditioning. I haven't seen in since August 2003, but I feel like if I ran into her on the street tomorrow, we could sit and have a real conversation and laugh for hours.
I knew Dan before I really knew him. We were on the same RA staff, but it wasn't until he started having breakfast with me and Bev that I got to talk to him. We really became friends the night I went into his room and demanded he help me. He made the mistake of listening to me, and he's been stuck listening to me ever since. Sometimes I wonder if he wishes he had class at the time when Bev and I ate breakfast, or if he wishes he hadn't been home that first night that we played cards and he helped me plan my life. His life would be simpler, I'm sure, but mine, well, I think mine would be less complete.
Maggie used to wear this Lafargeville teeshirt every night. When we were first roommates, I believed it had some special significance because she literally wore that thing every chance she got. Finally, she told me she got it at the Salvation Army or something, I think. She got it because she liked the number 13 on it. She also liked Claire's jewelry store, which drove me nuts. But she would wait in the burrito line with me at Warren and she didn't mind when I added obnoxious items to her to-do list daily. And, perhaps most importantly, she gave me the name Roomus.
Dave T. Gallie doesn't wave. He won't do it. I'll be maybe five feet away from the kid, and he still won't wave. He just doesn't like to do it. Dave would spend hours in my room sophomore year. I'd say, "Dave, umm, I'm doing work now." And he would say, "Okay." And he would just sit there and look into space. We'd have great conversations - I'd tell him all my stories, these horrible random stories that nobody else wants to even sit through. And the thing about Dave is, he would ask if I had any stories for him, every day. He didn't talk much, but he let me share every story I thought of. He let me do whatever I wanted. I smelled my feet in front of him. I would spit my gum out into my empty water bottles in front of him. And you know what the best part was? He still came back the next day.
William James is the author of my favorite quote. He wrote, "Wherever you are, it is your friends who make your world." And when I think about my friends, when I think about all of the jokes, all of the times they've helped me out or listened to me or laughed at me, when I think of all of the memories they hold for me, I can't help but believe he's absolutely right.
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