"You're leaving us," Stanta's Evil Twin, and Phillip Fish
Mitcho got his good news. Henderson is four for four in the RA department, which is unheard of. It's rare for so many people from one house to even apply, much less all get offered positions. Next year six RAs, or over ten percent, will be past or current Hendus. So how to we celebrate? We create a facebook group, of course.
I'm usually the first one to arrive at Greg and Hyeyong's apartment for house council meetings. Tonight when I walked in Greg was standing in the living room, and he looked at me dejectedly and said, "You're leaving us." The afternoon I got the news I came up from dinner and stood on the second floor balcony chatting with some friends from Tufts when Greg walked by in the second floor lobby. He stopped and gave me a questioning look through the window. I smiled and nodded, and he smiled and walked on. He had obviously just heard my news from Hyeyoung, who I had left eating downstairs. Other than that, though, he and I had never spoken about it until the exchange in his apartment this evening. I nodded again at him. "You're leaving us," he repeated.
"I'm going to be an RA."
"You're leaving us."
At that point the treasurer arrived.
********************
Why do I listen to Fleetwood Mac? I always end up getting only the songs I hate stuck in my head. But, oh the USC marching band in "Tusk." Swoon.
And speaking of marching band, Mr. Brown's retirement party was last night. None of the Franklin children were there, so Mom felt the need to go in our place. She says Brown came up to her afterwards and gushed on about the chair book. He told her that even though I never did own up to it, he was pretty sure I was the ringleader. That's all well and good, except that at the spring concert senior year, right after the seniors gave him the recliner I stood up, told the audience the story of the adventures of the chair, and presented Brown with the book. So Brown's finally leaving. It's the end of an era. Good riddance. We might have been able to overlook the fact that Brown was a huge asshole if he had been a good director.
Damn I miss marching band. The only times I ever question whether Chicago was the right choice is when I think about marching band. So what if I would never be captain at a university level? I would still rock the Pride. And as proud as Dad insists he is of me, I know a part of him wishes I went to OU so he and Mom could come down on Saturdays, stand outside Owen Field before games, and tear up at the thought that his little girl is doing what he and his wife were doing thirty years ago. I'm sorry I failed him in that respect. In one way or another I failed each member of my family by coming here. Mom would never admit it, but she wants one of her kids to be a doctor too. She wanted to see me at Washington in St. Louis. And Pat takes any chance to remind me what a financial burden I am to my parents. He sees his full ride to OU as a sacrifice he made for our parents, but I'm pretty sure he only started looking at it that way once I picked a tier one school. Oh well. I hear Mrs. Melton is content with my choice, so I'm satisfied.
I don't know what he did to anger God, but there's fish named Phill that must have gotten on His bad side, because Phill ended up in my custody. I am ill-prepared to take care of a fish in my dorm room. Phill lives in my pitcher, because it's the largest clear container I own. I can only hope iced tea residue isn't fatal. I wish I had my PH tester and other water paraphernalia here. I won't even drink Chicago water. Who am I to expect Phill to live in it? I won Phill at the Summer Breeze carnival, and he is constantly amazing me by...still being alive.
I'm usually the first one to arrive at Greg and Hyeyong's apartment for house council meetings. Tonight when I walked in Greg was standing in the living room, and he looked at me dejectedly and said, "You're leaving us." The afternoon I got the news I came up from dinner and stood on the second floor balcony chatting with some friends from Tufts when Greg walked by in the second floor lobby. He stopped and gave me a questioning look through the window. I smiled and nodded, and he smiled and walked on. He had obviously just heard my news from Hyeyoung, who I had left eating downstairs. Other than that, though, he and I had never spoken about it until the exchange in his apartment this evening. I nodded again at him. "You're leaving us," he repeated.
"I'm going to be an RA."
"You're leaving us."
At that point the treasurer arrived.
********************
Why do I listen to Fleetwood Mac? I always end up getting only the songs I hate stuck in my head. But, oh the USC marching band in "Tusk." Swoon.
And speaking of marching band, Mr. Brown's retirement party was last night. None of the Franklin children were there, so Mom felt the need to go in our place. She says Brown came up to her afterwards and gushed on about the chair book. He told her that even though I never did own up to it, he was pretty sure I was the ringleader. That's all well and good, except that at the spring concert senior year, right after the seniors gave him the recliner I stood up, told the audience the story of the adventures of the chair, and presented Brown with the book. So Brown's finally leaving. It's the end of an era. Good riddance. We might have been able to overlook the fact that Brown was a huge asshole if he had been a good director.
Damn I miss marching band. The only times I ever question whether Chicago was the right choice is when I think about marching band. So what if I would never be captain at a university level? I would still rock the Pride. And as proud as Dad insists he is of me, I know a part of him wishes I went to OU so he and Mom could come down on Saturdays, stand outside Owen Field before games, and tear up at the thought that his little girl is doing what he and his wife were doing thirty years ago. I'm sorry I failed him in that respect. In one way or another I failed each member of my family by coming here. Mom would never admit it, but she wants one of her kids to be a doctor too. She wanted to see me at Washington in St. Louis. And Pat takes any chance to remind me what a financial burden I am to my parents. He sees his full ride to OU as a sacrifice he made for our parents, but I'm pretty sure he only started looking at it that way once I picked a tier one school. Oh well. I hear Mrs. Melton is content with my choice, so I'm satisfied.
I don't know what he did to anger God, but there's fish named Phill that must have gotten on His bad side, because Phill ended up in my custody. I am ill-prepared to take care of a fish in my dorm room. Phill lives in my pitcher, because it's the largest clear container I own. I can only hope iced tea residue isn't fatal. I wish I had my PH tester and other water paraphernalia here. I won't even drink Chicago water. Who am I to expect Phill to live in it? I won Phill at the Summer Breeze carnival, and he is constantly amazing me by...still being alive.