I should have felt weird, entirely weird, about descending upon my green velvet alma mater this weekend, with the rest of the oldies, for our five year reunion. But I didn’t. I’m just that immature and wistful.
The Beirut tourney in which I had to drink all of the cups, and I mean all of them, since my partner has sworn off drinking. That made for a lovely four PM, let me tell you.
Walking through the new buildings, scaring the studying kids in the airy new atrium by shout-whispering “When I was your age, Pluto was a planet.” And “This is your future. Look at it! Looook at iiiit! That’s right. You too can grow up to be a jerk. Stop crying, crybaby!”
Shrimp, grits, and vodka sweet tea, but mostly, the waiter who served them, the Chapel Hill hipster with a huge tattoo of North Carolina on his forearm with a big heart in the middle. Cool now, weird in three years.
Finally being told that the saying is “Never the twain shall meet.” Not, as previously thought and spoken, “Never the ‘tween shall meet.”
Having the reaction to, “I write for some magazines”, which, while no one could care less about in New York, is astonishing and creative in a sea of real estate developers and law school students and elicits beaming smiles, sincere follow-ups and gazing off into the tobacco factories with, “I wish I could do that.”
Cantina. Even if it took two hours both nights.
The string orchestra in the gardens and all that champagne.
The marble port-a-pottys and their brass fixtures.
Laughing hysterically about 60% of the time, seeing the new crop build a slip-and-slide party, drinking in the tents.
Lemur tour and the friend I made on it, who, now that I mention it, looked like a lemur and proceeded to follow me around the rest of the day as if I had lemur food in my pocket.
Rebuffing a former lacrosse player’s advances with, “Too soon,” and a college senior’s advances with, “Too old.”
Lowlights: The following conversation: “Are you still dating REDACTED? No?” (Pause). “That’s too bad. REDACTED was so awesome! Wow. Remember how awesome REDACTED was? Man, just the coolest kid. So awesome. Wait, so why aren’t you dating why aren’t you dating REDACTED?”
That second bowl of queso spicy goodness/badness, the legendary fake cheese that the Mexican place on campus serves, which changes its taste and consistency with each passing hour. Sometimes it’s really thin, sometime there’s skin, and all times it’s dotted with red flecks, not of this world I assure you, to indicate that it’s “caliente”. Note, if you ever find yourself in the divine situation of eating this earthly manifestation of heaven and hell, consider walking the 100 yards to McDonald’s to procure fries to then place into the shallow bowl of queso and then let soak for four minutes before eating with a fork. Vomit, then repeat.
Good ole Durham sun, and the sweet, sweet mom burn I got on my chest.
Eight hours of sleep in two days and coming back to the cold, to a pile of edits and a little bit of a heavier step…
I don’t care how stupid and dorky it makes me, I loved college
and I am glad for every minute of it…