The Green Fan

One apartment. Five roommates. Countless stories.

Saturday, May 28, 2005

One Summer Night

(Hi Allison! Of course I remember you! So does Stuart - he says he'll make your whole family pancakes if you are ever out this way :) This post is for you.)
When we moved in to our horrid little apartment, we had very little furniture. And no refrigerator. Not to worry, though, because between all of us, we had three little dorm fridges. We stacked them up and were good to go. Other than the serious electric problem, we also had a freezer shortage that summer. It was really too bad because Tera, one of our summer roomies, brought to the table a case of otter pops. A CASE. We had enough otter pops for the entire summer. She was a really fun roommate. I'll always remember going to AM/PM with her, to fill up our Big Gulps with soda - in the morning - on our way to our boring jobs in the mail room. Actually, they were pretty great jobs because we occasionally got to drive the little battery-powered mail cars around campus. Fun stuff. Anyway, she knew the AM/PM guy. She shot the breeze with this guy every morning, and sometimes in the afternoon, too, on the way home. He always asked me about her when I went in there alone. That was Tera - everyone liked her. She sparkles. We had this one night, I think it was in July, and it was really really hot, and we couldn't sleep. So we started talking, thinking that eventually we'd get tired enough and drop off. We talked and talked and talked. And, just when we were going to look at see what time it was, we heard a noise outside the window - our crazy neighbor's radio alarm clock, set to a country station, was going off. And we laughed, because we knew that it was 5:00 am and we had talked the entire night. I've never done that with anyone else, before or after. Just that one crazy night with Tera, where we talked all night long.

Monday, May 23, 2005

Thinking, Thinking...

Oh, the pressure!

Let's see, what can I write about in the five minutes that I can spare right now? Hmmm...

Ok here's something quick(don't want to disobey, you know)...

Remember that park next to our apartment complex? I guess it wasn't actually much of a park, just a green strip of land filled with those massive power lines that were probably giving us cancer.

Anyway, I remember that Andy and I, when dating, used to take our baseball gloves over there quite frequently to play catch. It started as somewhat of a novelty, as Andy had never before met a girl who could throw and catch a ball nearly as well as he could. As our relationship grew more serious, however, and we continued to strive to be good little boys and girls, we began to need those games of catch as a way to burn off, how shall we say delicately, the excess tension that tends to build up in those types of situations.

You've never seen a simple game of catch played with such intensity. We would throw until we were completely spent, and then return to the apartment much more able to handle ourselves.

Did you ever wonder about all those games of catch, Sheila? Or did you even notice, as you were so busy trying to keep the same tension from building up too much between you and your man? You guys dated FOREVER (almost as long as Alison and her eventual husband); what did you, either of you, do to help keep yourselves in check? I suppose that question presumes that you DID "keep yourselves in check," which is not necessarily the case. So, I officially rescind that particular question (unless you choose to answer it) and instead open the topic up for general discussion.