Tag Archives: college

Slow Motion: Part 1

3 Aug

Last night happened in slow motion. Everything went that way, and I think everything went my way.

Hoff and I are slow. We don’t move quickly about anything, mostly because it’s not his style, and I am too nervous about making him nervous, that I move slow too.

We hung out in the same group of friends in college, except I liked his college roommate. Too bad his college roommate didn’t even look twice in my direction. I started hanging out with Hoff more as we made a habit out of watching football at a restaurant near campus with great pitcher specials. Hoff and his roommate made great pizza and beer buddies. Not to mention, we shared an affinity for the San Diego Chargers, so we always found ourselves cheering for the same team.

I studied abroad somewhere in the middle and returned home with only 4 days of college left. I spent them with my friends, Hoff and his college roommate. We played drinking games and went to Study Hall. We drank and partied and knew it would the last time we would see eachother for a while. We tapped a keg one night, and rallied a group of six to finish it off the next. I ended up on the bathroom floor, and Hoff’s roommate was nice enough to move me to a pile of laundry because our beds were already packed away.

The next night we played King’s Cup on the floor of a friend’s apartment and we tried to stay up as late as possible. None of us wanted it to end, so Hoff and I shared an air mattress and we had a true-to-form slumber party, all of us talking to each other in the dark.

Hoff and I stayed in touch (meaning we have had two or three AWKWARD conversations on the phone about life), and I pestered him to come visit me in between boyfriends.

We never talked about who we were dating, and still don’t bring it up. I don’t think either of us care to know.

I never knew I liked him, until I would get a call from him or a facebook comment and be a little excited he was thinking of me. I flirted with him, but he never flirted back, so I left it at that. I metioned him to Bails, who always looked at me and said, “Ya, cuz you like him.” I looked at her quizzically and said, “How do you know?’ and ever since he has been a crush of sorts.


My first me

8 Apr

I used to live in a place where I think I left my heart. It was by the beach and the buildings were crumbling. It was crowded and the streets were dirty.

It was perfect.

There were forever friendships formed and time for everything that you needed. I miss riding to friends’ houses because we all lived within walking distance. I need to come home to the people whose stories make me cry and laugh and roll my eyes.

I need bin candy, not becuase of a craving, but because I crave the relationships that were formed by piling into the Ford Explorer.

You would go to a stranger’s house, never having been there, and know without fail, where the keg would be and that the night would end with a walk home along poorly paved roads and heels in hand.

And when I lived there, I would ride towards my house, past girls in sunglasses and bikinis and boys without shirts, sitting at a sandwich shop enjoying beers and the sun.

That was the me that I want to be.