I don’t feel guilty, like I did last year. I would turn up the bass on my stereo and through the wall, Lindsay would hear it and seconds later… boom boom boom on the door. Could you turn it down? My roommate, in some time retaliation, would bang on the wall in return. He would snicker and act as if she wouldn’t know who it was, but I was like, there’s no way she doesn’t know it’s either you or me. Of course, he doesn’t care all too much about being obvious, as his idea of a prank encompasses breaking windows and falling two floors. Not that he’s actually pulled that one off, but it was a legitimate idea. He spent two days trying to persuade me to do that, and I told him that I wasn’t mad enough about not being able to blast my music that I would actually do shit that people would have to pay for. I wasn’t hanging outside the building to do the deed either. Well, that was last year. A lot of things were a little off last year. The dinner party where I burned some shit and then got really high. Andy screaming down the hallway, his voice immediately obvious. Calling Whitney and being like, come to this party… which got shut down right before she got there. Nice going, Byron. Nice going. Bye Bye Birdie taking over my life. Staying up until 3 AM watching Family Guy episodes. Hanging out with Tracy. This year, I haven’t hit up the stash just yet. I haven’t burned anything, I haven’t heard Andy for a while, I haven’t struck out (home runs tho ), I have time to chill, I stay up until 5 AM (!!), I don’t chill with some people any more (in fact, I was called Simon once… that wasn’t cool… and I haven’t seen some people since the summertime), and… I can blast my music now in my room. No one can hear it, especially because Sourabh is usually out in his study groups where they don’t really study but go to bubble tea and chill. That means there are at least two walls and 3 meters of air between my stereo and the next room. I live beside Jame and two freshmen, whom I don’t think give a damn anyway. Now I can listen to Classic & 86 while I look out my window and imagine I had a better view. I miss the Stouffer view, and I miss freshman year living there. Yeah, I got trashed way more often and was way less chill when it came to working, but there were a lot of cool beginnings then. It’s kind of coming to a sad end this year. I’ll be a dinosaur this time next year, kind of an outsider though I will be as old as next year’s senior class. Maybe even junior class. And my tastes have changed too, maybe because I’m getting a little smoother as time goes on. I used to be with all these girls that were older than me but now I’m getting back to being with my own age. Which just happen to be freshmen and sophomores. It’s pretty cool. Penn Dance doesn’t seem as weird as they used to. Maybe that’s because Shannon gives it dignity, Alison gives it technique and grace, and Mel gives it some cuteness. And their music choice is so much better this year! I just regret I couldn’t play that piano piece instead of them using the recording. Maybe it’s for the better, because the piano kind of sucks. I’m really excited about doing Annie Get Your Gun next week. Last weekend, I went up to NY with all those guys. I went up in Mike’s car, along with Jase Sayanlar, some freshmen dude that also plays piano and Liz who also lives downstairs. Mayer pride. We played the movie game and finally I lost out to Mike after everyone else got eliminated. Keynote of the game was Liz saying Pirates of the Caribbean twice on a pick-anything round. Almost knocked herself out of the game on a free roll. Molly will be able to play on the pit band (I don’t know why she told me she wasn’t even on the list, because she was/is) and Dora is gonna play an awesome Annie. Mike will be playing Frank, and in the words of our esteemed director, they needed someone who was “supremely arrogant.” It’s funny. You’re supposed to laugh. My outro is to Basement Jaxx. Flipped keys, thrown into pockets. Wallet, cell, check. Music, check. Swig of iced tea and raspberry aperitif. Holla to the spritzers and whipcurl in the mirror. Shorties breathe and stop (it’s Caroline from down the hall), and then Becs gets in the elevator, and it’s um, um, um. Katrina (the ick story) downstairs, Evelyn “do your homework” “Shut up!” Andy, check it. I’ll be back later – Austin. Where you at??, Alex. Neha, let’s (cough, cough) smoke. And all those broken hearts. Last word: come to the show this weekend.
Uncategorized on November 10th, 2004 by byronkho