DIARY
Such a high note… when the staid ball finally touched down kicking off one of the more eventful years of my life, I was in the middle of a huge revelry at the Crawfords. I’d arrived several hours before with Elliot and Mitch in tow, and a decades worth of friends new and old were crowded in the basement. Upstairs, the grown-ups mulled and laughed and ate hors d’eurves (sp?) and drak tequila. The cool kids were all down in the basement. Demetrius taught us dance moves, and Madonna’s Ray of Light, which was the novel thing just then, played at least three times through. This was, effectively, the night on which I met Lindsay and Annie and Amanda and Tony and some of those other Central kids. They were in their sophomore and junior and senior year of high school, whereas I was a second year at the U of C. Mitch left on his own, and Elliot and I were out until three-ish.
Several days later, my aunt gave me a ride back to Chicago, and I was not thrilled to be there. This was the year I was stuck in BJ #629D, or as I knew it “the Ghost Room.” In fact, I remember very little of this month except that I was writing constantly to my new friends, and every week or two I took the train home to visit them and my family.
Actually, this was the month when I changed my major to Physics.
It happened following a long conversation with Professor Vandervoort on a cold and frosty gray day.
Where were you in January, 1999?
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