8:58 a.m. Waking up at 7 a.m. is starting to seem like a bad idea right about now. However, the reception’s continental breakfast proves to be worth it; having spent Thursday lunchless and scrounging for veggies at Quad (I’m of the O/L persuasion), bagels and cream cheese are amazing. Though the ceremony is marred by tragedy as I manage to spill my orange juice all over the table, I do get to make friends with other prospies.
10 a.m. As we scurry out of the Harris Center to the next box on the schedule, my complimentary tote bag leaves me of its own accord (really, I don’t know what possessed it …).
3:14 p.m. First trip ever to a college bookstore and I leave before I can make up my mind to buy something. While there, I run into Heidi, a prospie from Vermont. We sit outside in the grass for a few hours saying things like, “Wow. This feels like college.” Oh yeah, cheap sentimentality. I also notice that Iowa squirrels are damn friendly compared to their cousins in tha ‘Nati.
9:38 p.m. Earlier in the day, I’d met various Joshes and Anands (actually only two), and I run into them again a little after dinner. It turns out that they are musically inclined, and before long, I go with the two of them and prospie Sarah up to the loggia. To jam! Well, that’s not entirely true. The jamming is left mostly up to Josh, keyboarder (Mark? Sorry if no ...), and cross country-running trombone player. And, as an addendum to Heidi’s musings, standing on the roof in the middle of Iowa at night listening to a keyboard-trombone rendition of “Jump” definitely feels like college.
12 a.m. I can’t say it’s my first time ... but donning a skirt and dancing for hours at the Mary B. James dance still strikes me as something altogether different. While this may owe to my never going to a dance in high school (I’m one of those), I think there really was something exceptional going on here. Apart from it being a certifiably crunk affair.
1 a.m. My night and prospie visit wind down in the wee hours and sparse tables of Bob’s. Here I consume a number of cheese bagels to sustain me on what will be my final adventure at Grinnell: the hike back to North Campus to find my pants. Thanks to Emma and Walter, and everyone else I didn’t mention!
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