Bob Dylan - "Not Dark Yet"
Has the candle passed to me yet to chime in on The Breakfast Club one-year anniversary? OK. My name is Drew, and I'm taking my high school ring out of the candle.
I brought my high school ring to college, and I wore it for a couple of days in the fall, but I kept forgetting about it and I came close several times to losing it in the laundry. I mean, I'm sentimental about that kind of stuff, and I've never necessarily felt that the high school ring was a stupid idea or a waste of money. And I can't get out of my memory that great day when we all got our rings, and me and Blake and Peter Ripma spent all of LitMag holding up our rings and citing Lord of the Rings/Captain Planet lines. All the same, I've never really worn it consistently. But today I was rummaging through my backpack in biology and I found my ring at the bottom of the pouch. Then later in the class, I noticed some kid in the front row had a really bulky high school ring on his finger that looked just like Milton's. So I started thinking about how disconnected I feel from high school right now, how fuzzy some of those memories are getting. And putting on the ring just felt like a good idea right then, so I pulled it out of my backpack and put it on. I know it sounds like a testimonial for Balfour, but I felt closer to high school again. Just having that little extra weight on my fourth finger gives me a relic with which to objectify all those fuzzy memories that are getting fuzzier. So here ends the cheesy, kitschy part of the blog, and I'll never write anything so pathetic again as an ode to a high school ring, but it's Jason Perlman's candle and I would never want to contaminate it with anything less than sincerity at its schmaltziest.
Everything I have to say about Breakfast Club I've already expressed to everybody either in this blog or in senior letters. For me, it just reminds me of a time in high school when things were as close to perfect as they'll ever be: I mean, for once, I can actually remember thinking, "Wow, things are fuckin' rockin' right now." I had old friends, new friends, Kristen, and my first play ever (notwithstanding Oliver!/Free to Be). I don't want to disparage supportive friends or family, but Breakfast Club is what physically got me out of the house and made me forget about that lousy deferment letter. Unfortunately, it was far more fleeting than I ever expected it to be. There was a reason I wore my TBC shirt the first day of college... there were definitely expectations there. Since then, I've returned to my normal state. I don't think the B-Club effect was ever meant to be anything more than temporary. I think I'm meant to reside in an existence that's far more sublime. But now that time in my life has achieved the status of myth, and I have a slew of friends who are the heroes of that myth.
So that's all I got to say.
To continue on that high school thread, I've been thinking of writing Wade a letter. I miss Wade. I've been listening to all his mixes a lot lately, and even though I don't exactly miss his brilliant lectures on Heart of Darkness ("see this word? yeaaahhhh... isn't it neat?"), I miss that room with all the crusty Pink Floyd posters and Star Wars Hamlet and Wade as Magoo.
Also, this weekend is Kristen weekend! I'm training down to St. Louis for a few days, and I'm even excited about the train part. And we might see the Arch! How 'bout it!
Has the candle passed to me yet to chime in on The Breakfast Club one-year anniversary? OK. My name is Drew, and I'm taking my high school ring out of the candle.
I brought my high school ring to college, and I wore it for a couple of days in the fall, but I kept forgetting about it and I came close several times to losing it in the laundry. I mean, I'm sentimental about that kind of stuff, and I've never necessarily felt that the high school ring was a stupid idea or a waste of money. And I can't get out of my memory that great day when we all got our rings, and me and Blake and Peter Ripma spent all of LitMag holding up our rings and citing Lord of the Rings/Captain Planet lines. All the same, I've never really worn it consistently. But today I was rummaging through my backpack in biology and I found my ring at the bottom of the pouch. Then later in the class, I noticed some kid in the front row had a really bulky high school ring on his finger that looked just like Milton's. So I started thinking about how disconnected I feel from high school right now, how fuzzy some of those memories are getting. And putting on the ring just felt like a good idea right then, so I pulled it out of my backpack and put it on. I know it sounds like a testimonial for Balfour, but I felt closer to high school again. Just having that little extra weight on my fourth finger gives me a relic with which to objectify all those fuzzy memories that are getting fuzzier. So here ends the cheesy, kitschy part of the blog, and I'll never write anything so pathetic again as an ode to a high school ring, but it's Jason Perlman's candle and I would never want to contaminate it with anything less than sincerity at its schmaltziest.
Everything I have to say about Breakfast Club I've already expressed to everybody either in this blog or in senior letters. For me, it just reminds me of a time in high school when things were as close to perfect as they'll ever be: I mean, for once, I can actually remember thinking, "Wow, things are fuckin' rockin' right now." I had old friends, new friends, Kristen, and my first play ever (notwithstanding Oliver!/Free to Be). I don't want to disparage supportive friends or family, but Breakfast Club is what physically got me out of the house and made me forget about that lousy deferment letter. Unfortunately, it was far more fleeting than I ever expected it to be. There was a reason I wore my TBC shirt the first day of college... there were definitely expectations there. Since then, I've returned to my normal state. I don't think the B-Club effect was ever meant to be anything more than temporary. I think I'm meant to reside in an existence that's far more sublime. But now that time in my life has achieved the status of myth, and I have a slew of friends who are the heroes of that myth.
So that's all I got to say.
To continue on that high school thread, I've been thinking of writing Wade a letter. I miss Wade. I've been listening to all his mixes a lot lately, and even though I don't exactly miss his brilliant lectures on Heart of Darkness ("see this word? yeaaahhhh... isn't it neat?"), I miss that room with all the crusty Pink Floyd posters and Star Wars Hamlet and Wade as Magoo.
Also, this weekend is Kristen weekend! I'm training down to St. Louis for a few days, and I'm even excited about the train part. And we might see the Arch! How 'bout it!
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