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dchenesI've been trying to write about this weekend, and I can't think of a good way to get it all out of my head without getting derailed by explanations. Here, without explanations, is a list:
The drivers who live around Buffalo might be happy taking curves on I-90 at 70 mph in daylight, but I am not.
The impromptu 80s night that got set up in the newly-varnished dance studio in South was a very Oberlin thing. It's in the same vein as lying on the stage in the dark for the last bit of the organ pump, and the very funny recitative of the OC security notebook with harpsichord accompaniment.
Apparently if you go to a reunion, you can do things for which security would have showed up had you been enrolled students. There was the impromptu 80s night, and couch diving, and a party that went on from late afternoon Saturday to dawn Sunday, and 12 cases' worth of beer raids on the 45th reunion...and that's the stuff I know about. We all seem to have decided to act 10 years younger than we are for a weekend.
"'Flushed' does not come with stripes."
I still (again) want to learn taiko drumming, now that I got to try it. And I didn't know you could make a steel drum sound like a brass band.
Gibson's has dragged itself out of the 50s, sort of. It still feels the same, but now it's got upscale tea and produce that maybe only dates to the first Bush administration. And beer.
I like the Root Room better as a dojo than as a dining room.
Karma is alerting the guys who pull into the parking space across from you that their car is leaking something, a lot. (Coolant pump issues, apparently.)
The 17th commandment is: Thou shalt not park in the Conservatory lot, EVER. What do you mean we can leave the car there all weekend?
It was a lot of fun, but I'm still not caught up on my sleep. Next time I do this, I'm taking the first work day afterward off too.
The drivers who live around Buffalo might be happy taking curves on I-90 at 70 mph in daylight, but I am not.
The impromptu 80s night that got set up in the newly-varnished dance studio in South was a very Oberlin thing. It's in the same vein as lying on the stage in the dark for the last bit of the organ pump, and the very funny recitative of the OC security notebook with harpsichord accompaniment.
Apparently if you go to a reunion, you can do things for which security would have showed up had you been enrolled students. There was the impromptu 80s night, and couch diving, and a party that went on from late afternoon Saturday to dawn Sunday, and 12 cases' worth of beer raids on the 45th reunion...and that's the stuff I know about. We all seem to have decided to act 10 years younger than we are for a weekend.
"'Flushed' does not come with stripes."
I still (again) want to learn taiko drumming, now that I got to try it. And I didn't know you could make a steel drum sound like a brass band.
Gibson's has dragged itself out of the 50s, sort of. It still feels the same, but now it's got upscale tea and produce that maybe only dates to the first Bush administration. And beer.
I like the Root Room better as a dojo than as a dining room.
Karma is alerting the guys who pull into the parking space across from you that their car is leaking something, a lot. (Coolant pump issues, apparently.)
The 17th commandment is: Thou shalt not park in the Conservatory lot, EVER. What do you mean we can leave the car there all weekend?
It was a lot of fun, but I'm still not caught up on my sleep. Next time I do this, I'm taking the first work day afterward off too.
