Final Days
Final entertaining events of the year:
Curious after reading cultural briefings for my trip to India, I asked my mom who she would arrange a marriage with for me if we were Indian, taking into account economic status, education, and caste. Her reply, very well thought out, came a few days later in a phone call. "At first, I thought maybe a political connection would be handy, so I'd say Brittany Halfacre, the mayor's daughter. Then I thought some behind-the scenes influence might be handy, so I'd put you with Meredith Mathews. Ken Mathews has got connections all over town, you see. But then I started thinking, maybe some furthering of the professional know-how between families might be wise, so I'd pick [forgot name], a girl Caleb's age whose dad is a neurosurgeon. Or Amy Harmon, for obvious reasons." She then went on to add "But what might be best of all - why stay confined to Lexington? We have this town sufficiently handled. Your grandparents up in Greenville give us a foothold up there, but we don't have any coastal influence at all. What we need to do is find someone powerful from Charleston you could marry..." I assume this was her way of including the expected "marry Amberjade" response.
Enough of that. Last night was swell, Madison and Robby and I went dumpster diving around campus, and found several gems outside of Byrnes, including a $~150 loft and a beige leather reclining chair, which I claimed for mine. Exciting and economical! The funniest part of the night was while we were obtaining the loft, which was full metal and made loads of noise. A security guard on a smoke break saw us, stared, and we ignored him and kept about our business like nothing was wrong. He then came downstairs and stared, and we continued to behave completely innocently, salvaging goods from the dumpster. Finally, he came over to us and started talking to Madison, of all people.
"How y'all doing?"
"Doing fine, thanks..." Awkward pause.
"You know you're not supposed to be in there, right?"
"Oh, uh... no? Uh... Good loft!" <-This is, of course, the only thing close to a justification we can produce.
Malignant stare.
"Do you... want me to get out?"
"Yeah, that'd be good."
"Can I keep this loft, though?"
"Well... you've got it...."
Guard leaves us with a "damn kids" aura, we get some very nice furniture!
Curious after reading cultural briefings for my trip to India, I asked my mom who she would arrange a marriage with for me if we were Indian, taking into account economic status, education, and caste. Her reply, very well thought out, came a few days later in a phone call. "At first, I thought maybe a political connection would be handy, so I'd say Brittany Halfacre, the mayor's daughter. Then I thought some behind-the scenes influence might be handy, so I'd put you with Meredith Mathews. Ken Mathews has got connections all over town, you see. But then I started thinking, maybe some furthering of the professional know-how between families might be wise, so I'd pick [forgot name], a girl Caleb's age whose dad is a neurosurgeon. Or Amy Harmon, for obvious reasons." She then went on to add "But what might be best of all - why stay confined to Lexington? We have this town sufficiently handled. Your grandparents up in Greenville give us a foothold up there, but we don't have any coastal influence at all. What we need to do is find someone powerful from Charleston you could marry..." I assume this was her way of including the expected "marry Amberjade" response.
Enough of that. Last night was swell, Madison and Robby and I went dumpster diving around campus, and found several gems outside of Byrnes, including a $~150 loft and a beige leather reclining chair, which I claimed for mine. Exciting and economical! The funniest part of the night was while we were obtaining the loft, which was full metal and made loads of noise. A security guard on a smoke break saw us, stared, and we ignored him and kept about our business like nothing was wrong. He then came downstairs and stared, and we continued to behave completely innocently, salvaging goods from the dumpster. Finally, he came over to us and started talking to Madison, of all people.
"How y'all doing?"
"Doing fine, thanks..." Awkward pause.
"You know you're not supposed to be in there, right?"
"Oh, uh... no? Uh... Good loft!" <-This is, of course, the only thing close to a justification we can produce.
Malignant stare.
"Do you... want me to get out?"
"Yeah, that'd be good."
"Can I keep this loft, though?"
"Well... you've got it...."
Guard leaves us with a "damn kids" aura, we get some very nice furniture!