With due respect to Alice -- "School's out forever."
- Joe Kelly, "Operation: Rescue Weasel" or "Operation: That Wacky Doctor's Game!"
"The Way the Cookie Crumbles"
Well, that's it for college apparantly.
I guess this is a taboo subject in certain circles, but this morning, while I was writing the last scene of what can only be described as an awful screenplay, in which Mr. Universe and finally accepts his destiny and sets off the apocalypse, it finally dawned on me that a pretty major chapter of my life is drawing to a close here, and what's next is kind of anybody's guess.
Holy fucking shit.
"Cookie Monster"
You know, I think I could enjoy all the happy crap that's happening right now if I weren't such a shitheel sometimes.
"A Cookie's but a Cookie, But A Newton's Fruit and Cake"
Last nights' FIG Reunion 2004 was a blast.
I've been trying to find a good way to say this, which has been difficult for me, because I hate stating the obvious (or at least, I think I do) but college has been a lot of fun. (Duh.)
There was something great about that first semester Freshman year, but it's hard for me to describe just what that was. Keep in mind, this was before most of the craziness that ended up defining my college experience really cropped up. This was before I ever called myself the Little Black Duck, or became a desk attendant, or I began my long, doomed campaign for the affections of Erin Tuttle. Prewitt wasn't around. I was still abstaining from the demon rum and other distilled spirits, and I even had this odd habit of starting a paper a couple of days before it was due, instead of a couple of hours.
It's recently become my thought that life doesn't get really good until it gets really messy. Like when you're really looking for something and the only way to find it is to overturn everything around you and really tear your room apart, and you usually find whatever it was somewhere you really should have noticed it earlier. Maybe that's a bad analogy. Maybe it's a perfect one. I've definitely strayed from my point either way, and that point was this:
My first semester with the Stage and Screen Freshman Interest Group of 2000 was a bit of a Golden Age. Let's use another mangled metaphor festooned with my fetishes and say that it was Stan Lee and Steve Ditko's first years on Amazing Spider-Man. I mean, the truly great and powerful Spider-Man stories, like the revelation of the Green Goblin's secret identity, or the death of Gwen Stacy, or the vainglorious clone saga all happened years later, just like all the highlights and fantastic firsts of my college career happened in the year 2001 and beyond. And yet, if you look back at that tiny pocket of time, you see all the odd character quirks that would one day become trademark conventions. Hell, you've even got an unlikely cameo appearance by Hank if you take a close enough look! Priceless. Just priceless. And now that I think about it, maybe grabbing four freshman and declaring them my own FIG during junior year was my way of trying to recapture some of that magic... or just a sign of another nervous breakdown.
Anyhoozle, here's to you, FIG o' my hearts. You gave me my first good dose of the college experience, and a pocketful of seeds to sow my dreams.
Good night and God bless.
"Oreo"
One last bit of nostalgia before I let you go: I've got a bit of a history with oreo cookies.
1) When a young African-American male who's never seen Friday and owns a Hootie and the Blowfish CD's not being called an Uncle Tom, he's getting called an oreo.
2) Justin and I used to exchange oreo's and crackers around Christmas time as our odd inside joke about our interracial friendship.
3) The last time I was a senior, I had this container attached to my bookbag that was actually designed to hold eight oreo cookies (six "doublestuft").
4) I was bitten by a radioactive oreo cookie, which granted me the proportionate strength, speed, and agility of an oreo, as well as an oreo's innate ability to be black on the outside and white on the inside.
So to sum up, I have tapped into the totemistic forces of the delicious creme-filled treat. I am the champion of this tasty snack. I am one with the cosmic forces of oreo.
Need proof? How 'bout this: Last night, during FIG Night 2004, Erin and I did that whole two-people-twist-a-cookie-and whoever-gets-the-creme-side-gets-a-wish thing three different times, and I won each time.
What did I wish for? The creamy side, of course.
So what if that's a lie? The truth would be telling...
- Joe Kelly, "Operation: Rescue Weasel" or "Operation: That Wacky Doctor's Game!"
"The Way the Cookie Crumbles"
Well, that's it for college apparantly.
I guess this is a taboo subject in certain circles, but this morning, while I was writing the last scene of what can only be described as an awful screenplay, in which Mr. Universe and finally accepts his destiny and sets off the apocalypse, it finally dawned on me that a pretty major chapter of my life is drawing to a close here, and what's next is kind of anybody's guess.
Holy fucking shit.
"Cookie Monster"
You know, I think I could enjoy all the happy crap that's happening right now if I weren't such a shitheel sometimes.
"A Cookie's but a Cookie, But A Newton's Fruit and Cake"
Last nights' FIG Reunion 2004 was a blast.
I've been trying to find a good way to say this, which has been difficult for me, because I hate stating the obvious (or at least, I think I do) but college has been a lot of fun. (Duh.)
There was something great about that first semester Freshman year, but it's hard for me to describe just what that was. Keep in mind, this was before most of the craziness that ended up defining my college experience really cropped up. This was before I ever called myself the Little Black Duck, or became a desk attendant, or I began my long, doomed campaign for the affections of Erin Tuttle. Prewitt wasn't around. I was still abstaining from the demon rum and other distilled spirits, and I even had this odd habit of starting a paper a couple of days before it was due, instead of a couple of hours.
It's recently become my thought that life doesn't get really good until it gets really messy. Like when you're really looking for something and the only way to find it is to overturn everything around you and really tear your room apart, and you usually find whatever it was somewhere you really should have noticed it earlier. Maybe that's a bad analogy. Maybe it's a perfect one. I've definitely strayed from my point either way, and that point was this:
My first semester with the Stage and Screen Freshman Interest Group of 2000 was a bit of a Golden Age. Let's use another mangled metaphor festooned with my fetishes and say that it was Stan Lee and Steve Ditko's first years on Amazing Spider-Man. I mean, the truly great and powerful Spider-Man stories, like the revelation of the Green Goblin's secret identity, or the death of Gwen Stacy, or the vainglorious clone saga all happened years later, just like all the highlights and fantastic firsts of my college career happened in the year 2001 and beyond. And yet, if you look back at that tiny pocket of time, you see all the odd character quirks that would one day become trademark conventions. Hell, you've even got an unlikely cameo appearance by Hank if you take a close enough look! Priceless. Just priceless. And now that I think about it, maybe grabbing four freshman and declaring them my own FIG during junior year was my way of trying to recapture some of that magic... or just a sign of another nervous breakdown.
Anyhoozle, here's to you, FIG o' my hearts. You gave me my first good dose of the college experience, and a pocketful of seeds to sow my dreams.
Good night and God bless.
"Oreo"
One last bit of nostalgia before I let you go: I've got a bit of a history with oreo cookies.
1) When a young African-American male who's never seen Friday and owns a Hootie and the Blowfish CD's not being called an Uncle Tom, he's getting called an oreo.
2) Justin and I used to exchange oreo's and crackers around Christmas time as our odd inside joke about our interracial friendship.
3) The last time I was a senior, I had this container attached to my bookbag that was actually designed to hold eight oreo cookies (six "doublestuft").
4) I was bitten by a radioactive oreo cookie, which granted me the proportionate strength, speed, and agility of an oreo, as well as an oreo's innate ability to be black on the outside and white on the inside.
So to sum up, I have tapped into the totemistic forces of the delicious creme-filled treat. I am the champion of this tasty snack. I am one with the cosmic forces of oreo.
Need proof? How 'bout this: Last night, during FIG Night 2004, Erin and I did that whole two-people-twist-a-cookie-and whoever-gets-the-creme-side-gets-a-wish thing three different times, and I won each time.
What did I wish for? The creamy side, of course.
So what if that's a lie? The truth would be telling...
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