I have laryngitis, but this is a newspaper so it doesn’t really matter.
I could write about how crazy it is that I am going to graduate in a few months and be thrust into the world, much like a bug flies into the freeway and is splattered over the windshield of a speeding Mack truck. But that would only depress everyone. It’s already depressing me.
On to sillier things … I have discovered that watching eight-year-olds playing ice hockey is one of the little-known joys in life. You scoff, but it’s true. My cousin Joe plays hockey. Never mind the fact that he lives in San Diego, the land of eternal summer and the gateway to Tiajuana. San Diego probably is a little-known center of hockey activity.
Anyway, when you’re watching these kids play, at any given time half of them have fallen on the ice – not because of vicious play. They just fall over. Since they have enough padding to survive being run over by the Zamboni, it’s okay to laugh at them. If you have the opportunity to see small children play hockey, or any other sport, I highly recommend it.
Also during break, I experienced the workings of our wonderful justice system. Namely, I got stuck with jury duty. To those of you who have yet to experience this, I only have this to say. It sucks. Here’s what happens: You get up at an obscene hour in the morning to go to the courthouse. Once there, they put you in a big, unheated room with uncomfortable chairs and terribly outdated magazines – and they don’t tell you what’s going on until you get called into a court. I didn’t even get to go into court to be a potential juror. I had my raving madwoman routine down.
Instead, I ended up reading every magazine in the place. (I know all about the septuplets now. Fascinating material.)
I sat around for five hours watching soap operas and the Insight.com Bowl. (Anyone can get a stupid bowl game these days.) And then the pleasant jury lady told us we weren’t needed and could go home – at which point I ran out of the building screaming.
Since I’ve served my time and done my civic duty (my mom made me go), the state of California will not call me for jury duty for approximately 2.35 seconds. How about that!
As part of my enslavement by the GW crew team, I spent the last week of vacation in Tampa, Florida, rowing my brains out three times a day with the rest of my teammates. Yes, you too can join the crew team, get fashionable haircuts (see freshmen boys), sweat, stink more than you could ever imagine, turn your hands into raw hunks of flesh (mmm … hunks of flesh) and to top it off, you can experience this all in the exotic metropolis of Tampa!
If you never have been there, the downtown area is comprised of wig stores, a Manhattan Bagels store and lots of pastel colors. I think the pastel colors are buildings, but they are so bright I can’t look at them directly or my eyes will melt. Really everyone should be allowed to experience something like this. I think I can speak for all of my teammates when I say that Tampa is an unforgettable experience, even with a lot of therapy.
By the way, for those of you who went to see Tom DeLuca (one of today’s great showmen), not all of my teammates think about cucumbers. A lot of them do, but not all of them.
And now… well, we’re back in school. Swell.
