Not panning out as hoped...

So today Daniel and I went to go turn in our last check to Sage Associates, for our posh and swanky senior year housing. Well, it was the last check for this school year, anyway.

We both had class until 11:25, but were free after that, so we met at Mallott. I got worried becuase the guest speaker we were having in Comm 345 was running long, and I know how anal Dan is about punctuality. I got outside to meet him at around 11:30. He commented about me being late at 11:31. At 11:32, midway between Day Hall and Mallott, Dan remembered he needed to mail some letters to his parents. At 11:38, after a trip through the magical underground passage that is the belly of Trillium, we were back on our way to turn in our checks.

The rest of the trip there was seemingly un-eventful. We turned in our checks. I signed some form. The ladies in the office smiled at us. Then we left. On our way back, however, Daniel reminded me of something I had told him just minutes earlier. Some girls I had never met had a pan of mine, and I should get it back.

If you're confused, you're not the only one. You should have seen the look on the girl's face when she came to the door of her apartment to find Dan and I standing there.

But this was no ordinary apartment.

This was the apartment that just a semester ago had been home to Rachel (of rice rocket fame), Sarah, and Lauren. Rachel and I used to take turns cooking at each other's places, and one time I brought a really good frying pan over to do catfish in. It was specialized, with ridges and grooves to lift the object you fry out of the grease it may produce. I dare say it was my favorite pan. But I'm an idiot. I left the pan at Rachel's late in the semester, and we both forgot about it. I got back to school after break to realize I didn't have my pan, or a way to contact Rachel, who had since gone abroad for the semester.

So fast forward from that point, two weeks, where I am visiting frm. roommate Dylan at the Cornell in Washington center. We did the dinner thing, watched West Wing with his current roommates, and talked for a bit. Then, during the evening people started to drop by. One of them was Sarah, who had lived with Rachel the semester before.

"Your pan is still at my apartment," she told me. "I left a note for the girls who moved in, so you should go ask for it."

Well fast forward another eight weeks, to today, when I tried go get it. The girl was confused, and polietely showed me all the cookwear in the apartment. My Pan was not among them. I left crushed, to take solice in an afternoon nap.

(On another tangent, they only had two frying pans. Two?!? -- how can anyone cook with just two frying pans?!? I mean, I have a roasting dish, wok, several frying pans of varying sizes, pots, and even a freakin' waffle maker. And *warning -- oncoming sexist comment -- * they were women. If I have an X and Y chromosome, and all that stuff, they should have at least half that. At least a third pan, or a pot or something...)