HM Time Travels

I am uninspired yet again. It's Friday. Let's take a trip back to
Yesteryear. Reminisce with me, won't you?

What was I doing on a Friday way back in hrmf...the first year
I went away to college, shall we say? And let's name it College,
like on Bluto's sweatshirt in Animal House. I ain't sayin' where I
went, but Kathleen Turner went there, and Brad Pitt is from that
town, and College has recently changed its name. Perhaps now
it wants to be know as University.

Anyhoo, College had quite the reputation as being a tough school
for my major. I could have taken a much easier route, closer to
home, but I was always one to seek a challenge.

On a Friday, I had only one class. It was at 8:00 a.m. What was
I thinking? I plead ignorance. I didn't go away to College until
my junior year, because I had a scholarship to a local junior college.
I had no idea I would have to drag myself out of bed and get to a
class at the crack of dawn. But I did not skip it. Not even once.
I was dumb enough to take the Big 3 classes all in one semester.
My advisor did question that, but I was ignorant. I didn't know the
reputation of these teachers, or that every semester one the Big 3
caused students to change majors. (Some people have issues with
math, you know.) I took them all the first semester away from home.
I got "C"s in every one of them. I was not happy. I am an "A"
student, by cracky! Others were amazed that I got "C"s.
"You're SO lucky!

On a Friday, at 5:30 a.m., I arose from my little bed in my dorm
room. Perhaps I was a bit under the weather from Thursday night
festivities. A junior with a car is very popular in a dorm. I dressed
in the dark so as not to awaken my slug of a roomie, rode the
elevator down 8 floors to the front desk, asked the little old lady
to unlock the doors and let me out, and ran 5 miles. Upon return,
I showered, dressed in the same kind of clothes I'd been running
in, hoofed it across campus, stopped in the fieldhouse for a cup
of Diet Coke out of a vending machine, and walked past the
outdoor Olympic-sized swimming pool to wait in line with my
cronies for entrance into the basement lair of The Hump. That
was the teacher of my Exercise Physiology class. Not his real
name. Just what we called him. He was an odd duck. Very smart.
He walked with a limp. I think he had a little leg from polio. He
had one tall shoe and one regular shoe. Some who were not so
nice called him The Gimp. Not to his face, of course. It would
have been hard to remove the giant shoe from a rectum.

After The Hump unlocked the door around 7:45, we traipsed
down the dark, narrow stairs behind him. Many had coffee. I
had my Diet Coke. Mmm...I wish I had some now. Some good
vending-machine Diet Coke. With crushed ice that lasted until
class was over.

This was a lecture class. All lecture. The Hump spoke. We did
not. We took notes. My notes were in high demand. I print in
block letters. Handwriting books say that is a control issue. I
do not dispute it. Also, I never missed a class. Going home
early for the weekend? Just ask me. I'll run you a copy. For
free. Because I'm that kind of gal.

When class was over, after I'd drunk all the knowledge I thirsted
for (yearned for, in fact--nobody has ever found out the root of
that quote, though I use it all the time) I sucked out the last few
chunks of crushed ice, tossed the cup in The Hump's wastebasket,
and headed back to dorm central to see who was staying in town
for the weekend. We'd lie around making plans for latenight pranks,
the best of which involved switching lobby furniture from 9th floor
with that of 6th floor. Many an inebriated dormie stayed on that
elevator and punched their floor number again. Some pranks were
musical, like that of my friend MKKK, who sang all the verses to
that Sound of Music song as she stopped at each floor. One would
get: "So long, farewell, aufwiedersien, good-bye-eye" while the last
floor would get: "The sun. Has gone. To bed and so must I-i. Good-
byyyyyyye." Yeah. We weren't exactly ready to co-star with
Julie Andrews.

When lunchtime rolled around, my platonic buddy who later ended
up in law enforcement (as a worker, people, not an inmate) came
by to take me to lunch. By that, I mean we walked together to
another dorm to the cafeteria. He lived off campus, but purchased
a meal card. So I saw him at least twice a day, sometimes three.
Friday nights I went crawling the party houses with the dormies.
Saturday nights I usually hung out with My Buddy. Variety is the
spice of life, you know.

Occasionally, My Buddy and I made a Friday night trip to W.F.
Cody's, a hole-in-the-wall restaurant/bar on the other side of town,
where we would feast on fried mushrooms and giant hamburgers,
play pool, and perhaps imbibe some giant beverages-on-tap as
well. I still have some plastic cups from there. Go figure.

And that's about it. Not so exciting, my life from Yesteryear. But
it sure beats what I'm doing right this minute.

And to my friend Bean, who, like Mabel, is NOT imaginary....
I know you had a thing for The Hump. You still have his address,
don't you?