lxxviii

“You can always tell a real friend: when you've made a fool of yourself he doesn't feel you've done a permanent job.”

-Laurence J. Peter

            For a lack of a better term, it’s weird being here, at this house annually rented by people that I have only known for a week, watching my team (also a weird term to use) lose to a Midwestern power-house. I am laughing and singing with a new group of people that have only known me for a week. I am dancing and cursing with thirty new others that still don’t know all my quirks and my little inappropriate tendencies, the stories of my awkward underclassmen years and the quiet words that I type on this keyboard.

            But I can’t help feeling comfortable around them, though, these new friends who share the same immature humor and the same underlying sense of seriousness. And that’s all that matters, as strings of swear words and jokes playfully jump around the room to the tune of the college football announcers on the screen in front of us.

            New people? Dancing in front of strangers? I can handle this.