Friday, July 18, 2003

"Frolf" - licking around campus ...

So today was a typical Thursday. Typical in that I woke up, went polar bear swimming, and then napped away the rest of it. Oh sure, I woke up around 3:30 p.m., when I was ever so disturbed by my apartment mate to take a phonecall. It was shortly there after I set the ground rules of waking me up:

I only take calls from three sources: My mother, the Daily Sun, and the good lord Jesus Christ.

(I would also just like to take this moment to say that I hate people opening my door on me when I'm sleeping, especially since I do so in the nude.)

Anyway, I got up, had a bowl of cereal and then plotted how I would spend the few remaining hours of the day. I realized (after trying to dress) that I didn't have clean clothes, so the first order of business became laundry.

It was great. I put my clothes in, and then wandered out on the back porch of the Laundry place. Sitting in the sun, I pulled out my LSAT home study book and began feverishly working away. I'm doing better now, only choosing one incorrect answer for every six or so.

Laundy wasn't anything exciting, but I finished up soon enough and then went back home. No one seemed to notice I had come in, as they were discussing something regarding me when I came back.

Apparently one of Kajsa's glasses was broken. I had set it in the sink the day before while cleaning up the apartment (assuming that if it was on the table for the duration of the day that it was dirty), and sometime between that and when Graham and Jason did the dishes, the glass broke. Compounding the situation, the glass was from a formal she had gone to.

So for the time being, I believe the affectionate term I have been given is that of "asshole."

And speaking of assholes, I saw the football team practicing today on Schoellkopf, but that's all for another post. Today, I'd like to talk about the great sport of Frolf, or frisbee golf.

Matt Nagowski has been talking about building a frisbee golf course around Cornell for weeks, so tonight we acted on it. After eating dinner and checking my im's, I met Matt at ABC cafe. They were doing a Thursday night Jazz session -- very smooth -- and Phil Lane was there. I suppose we're a sad and unlikely group, but the conversation is good. Well, that and Matt and I can always complain about how we're both single.

So there we were, galavanting around the arts quad, maps, frisbees and all. It was really quite an enjoyable evening. Our first hole was from the base of Ho plaza to the circle that says, "Ho." Then we did some wierd thing to the clock tower, followed by a stint to west campus, the douche palace, and back up to the giant Johnson. The whole thing is capped off by hitting the statue of Ezra Cornell.

Along the way, we happened upon the piece de resistance, to any campus climber. It was the scaffolding surrounding Baker Arch. We had to think about it for a few minutes, but eventually decided that it was a once in a college-life-time experience, so up we went.

The view was breath taking, or maybe it was just the fact that I was scared to be up that high. Either way, it was an amazing experience. Better still was that it ended with a panic attack. While I was sure there were no monitoring devices on the scaffolding, just as we reached the top we heard sirens. I don't think I could have gotten down faster if I had fallen. Of course, I wouldn't want to try.

The best part, however, we have yet to experience. Due to custodial interference, we were unable to play through Goldwin Smith hall, but don't worry. I plan to someday during classes, so if you happen to spot a frisbee going by, don't freak out. It's just me, frolfing it up.

--Random Side Note --

The other day I was running on "game farm road," and this woman in a car waved at me. It was the second time that I was confronted by some strange (but not to say unattractive) female in Ithaca. The first was when I was walking down East Seneca Street and this gorgeous Brunette said Hello. I wish I knew her, or had the sense to ask for her name. Ah well, there's a whole year of walking down to the commons ahead of me, and perhaps we'll run into each other again.

Or perhaps I merely dreamt it.

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