So I went to bed Thursday night around 3 a.m., depsite the advice of the Gannett people who had given me a flu shot. I'd just gone 14+ hours with the weakened flu strain in me, and I was starting to feel it. It was incubating. I had also finished 11 pages of my final comm paper, revising the four pages the group had sent to me as well as our original six. They were now all translated to English, and semi-coherent.
Unfortunately, the massive amounts of caffine in my body prohibited me from falling asleep right away. Where I had originally planned to get up around 6 a.m. and do another two to three pages, I ended up not getting to sleep until closer to four. As a result, I hit the snooze button several times, one of which I actually turned it off. This resulted in me jerking awake at 7:50, frantically pulling on clothes, and rushing to work.
At least I got my daily run in ... sort of...
Work was work. While on shift, I managed to effectively decrease the size of the queue, and finish up a scholarship essay. Afterwards, I went to go see Brian Earle. He was supposed to write me two letters of recommendation, but needed some reminding. I would have to return to the comm department later that day to pick them up.
Distraught and foggy-headed, I started home. I finished my paper in my room and sent it to Jeff (the professor). Then I headed back up to the ag quad to pick up my letters.
I ran into Scott Jones along the way, and seeing him was like seeing my brother. Scott and I, and even Alex and I, have bonded in an amazing way this semester. I hope I can keep in touch with both of them over the years, so we can share life's high points. I'd like to even say I'd invite them both to things like my weeding (should that happen someday), but it probably won't happen. Scott would just run off with my fiance and make her fat.
Professor Earle's letter was amazing. With my other clips, references, and accompanying materials, I think I might actually have a shot at the NCAA Freedom-Forum Journalism Award. I really want it, not for the money, but so I can say I won an NCAA award. I think it would be a cool thing to tell my kids about.
I then speed walked to the post office on the commons. It didn't take that long to get there, although I cheated and ran part of the way. I was filled with a nervous excitment. Though I don't think I'll win the NCAA award, I knew that if I didn't get it in before postmark, I'd never really know. It now rests in God's hands.
I went home and watched some TV to kill time until the next big thing. It just happened to be a suprise invitation to dinner on North with Rachel. It was great to see her again and catch up. She also happened to pay me a great compliment, that the two of us have bonded to the point where even though we don't see each other often, we can still make great conversation. I like that.
After dinner, I came home and sat in the living room with Jevon. The boys and I got ready to go to the Hangovers' Holiday party. I was a bit apprehensive, but after thinking about who would be there, I decided to go. I like all the guys, and enjoyed my time in the group. I imagined I would enjoy my time at the party, too.
I did.
Sam, Jeremy, Adam, Ben, Doug, Doug, Evan, Arnold and even John Cape (despite not being in the group) were all there. (Dylan, Jevon, and Brian were there, too, but I live with them, so they don't count.) I love those guys. They always know how to have a good time, and tonight was no exception. There was a ton of food, and some great stories were shared.
Then around 11 p.m., I truly began to appreciate my time at the party and Cornell.
She was tall and well proportioned; a bright-eyed brunette who carried herself with a slight air of sophistication and grace as she entered the room. She was dressed in earth tones that covered nearly everything except for a slight band of nicely-defined skin at her midriff. Shoulder length hair fell ever-so-slightly to frame her gentle face and smiling eyes. Her lips were thin, and her cool walk betrayed her. Every motion seemed to give hint of the burning passion for living that smoldered within.
Even though she was on the other side of the room, I was intoxicated, instantly.
She ended up in John Cape's room, but I knew they weren't doing anything more than talking. For the two of them, it was an escape from the rest of us -- a place where they didin't quite belong. The Hangovers sang in the common room, while the two of them conversed in John's room.
Eventually things broke up. Dylan and Doug wandered back, and I followed. Dylan and I entered the room a few moments later, joining the conversation as we did. Midway though, I introduced myself.
Her name was Lauren, but I thought she said Gloria. Of course, I took that incident and did what I enjoy most when meeting someone new -- I called her by the wrong name all night, even when we parted company. I loved the look she gave me when I did it.
We laughed about it at first. She of course appeared annoyed, but it was playful. We didn't even flirt, we just talked -- but it was probably some of the best conversation I've ever had at Cornell. We joked about everything, and even postulated on the six-degrees of separation theory, noting that it could probably be done within three or four at Cornell. All you needed was a Kevin Bacon, in this case, any hotel student.
She mentioned that she read my columns, and even remebered my last name from print. It was flattering to hear that from a total stranger.
I was in and out of the dog house all night, though. At one point, she tilted her head back and laughed at something I said. While she did so, I caught a glimpse of fillings in her mouth. I ventured a guess at how many she had. It was a mistake on all accounts.
If there's one thing you're never supposed to ask a woman, it's their weight. If there's another, it's got to be how many fillings they have. Lauren took great offense to this question, and even took a personal affect of mine as a bargaining tool. In the end I ate crow, and begged for forgiveness on my knees. I told her I was geniunely sorry, and that I wanted to marry a girl like her someday, even though I knew I wouldn't be good enough for her. She didn't seem to buy all the BS I was selling, but she took enough of it to give me my card back.
All in all, it really opened my eyes as to who you just might find if you happen to be in the right place, at the right time.
Not that I want readers to get the wrong impression. She has a boyfriend, and from the way she said "you don't look like your column moniker," I'm assuming I'm just not attractive enough for her. Though I would clearly jump at the chance to get to know her better, I doubt it'll ever happen.
Still, for one night, I was the guy who had the ear of the most beautiful girl at the party. And tonight, for me, that's all that really matters.
No comments:
Post a Comment