Last night at the rehearsal dinner, I had a chance to share some musings about our favorite Guatemalan... but I cut my remembrances short both out of respect for time and out of respect for his dignity. I will be paying little respect to either of those categories insofar as this posting is concerned.
I met Jared when I began encountering and attempting to indoctrinate the Second Cohort... but I really didn't begin speaking with him at any length until his sophomore year, principally because he was quiet, frequently in a hurry (because he was due somewhere else five minutes ago), and rarely left his room. I saw him from time to time, and knew enough of where his room was to crash it and trouble him and Durkin (who seemed rather alarmed at the intrusion)... but that was more or less it. In our defenses, he had a good roommate and wasn't feeling like chancing the burning glare of the daystar, and I was increasingly interested with other distractions.
Jared's sophomore year, however, (and my Junior year) heralded the formation of the SC Blogs Proper, my taking classes with Jared, and Jared spending a decent bit of time out of his room. It was at this point that I also found the joy of sitting next to Jared in chapel because he always had an interesting spare book or three. Oh... and an interesting tidbit... a 150 pound guy with a 50 pound backpack spins like a top when you seize his backpack and shove it to one side or the other. Ah... I miss that backpack. Another point of note is that Jared was the LeTourneau student "Most Likely to be Found in the Library" through most of his time at LeTourneau. I'm positive that he holds the record for most hours asleep in the library by sheer force of the fact that he did a good half of his sleeping there for most of his sophomore year. I almost forgot "Mosh the Guatemalan"... a favorite game of Gallagher's and mine. Not so sure of Jared's undying appreciation for the game, however.
And then we roomed together for the summer. Jared has a lot of crap... which I found out the hard way when we moved it... a lot of heavy crap (It's still not as bad as Moore's freaking couch though... damn your couch Moore... you suck.) That said, silly Guatemalan... you should never room with someone whose voracious taste for books, trouble and movies is only surpassed by your own. To say that we slacked hard is probably a gross understatement of the term. We might could have slacked harder, but it would have gotten us fired... and we weren't eligible for welfare. So I had to wake Wheeler up at the crack of dawn... and 5 minutes later, and then drag him out of bed so that we could stumble across campus to work and not be late. Not that our boss really minded, but it was the principle of the thing. Except for those two weeks where we scraped glue. We should have probably quit then on principle.
But we lived like kings, Wheeler and I. We read all day, except when we watched movies all day, and then watched movies every night. We probably drove Ardith and Anna insane... but we had a hell of a time doing it. And then the rest of the crew came back... and the work-load increased a bit, but the fun of watching the good movies also increased. Oh... and we saran-wrapped Paige's car... that was fun too. At some point, I also got engaged and married... and Wheeler was there to help out with that as well. A fine groomsman, if I do say so myself.
And this year, I've gotten to see him a lot less than I would like. Part of it is my having a job, and part of it is him spending lots of time with Rachel and my not living right by them. I suppose that's the way it is with the Real World... it's not like college. Which more or less sucks, if you like being near your friends most of the time as opposed to across town from them and too busy to spend lots of time having fun with them. To Jared's discredit, he couldn't remember to ask a grocer for food if he was dying of starvation... but we'll try not to hold his complete inability to communicate important information against him... too much.
I could go on and tell stories about Wheeler for hours... and I probably will. But this post probably should come to a close, and the close is this: I'm going to miss my damn Guatemalan... who has been there for me as a great friend for several wonderful years. I mean, now he's going to be Rachel's damn Guatemalan... and she'll probably even make him change his name to Rachel's respectable Guatemalan. And who wants that?
But I wish them both the best... and looking back, I think I've managed to withhold most of Wheeler's embarassing stories. You're welcome Gauatemala.
Posted by Vengeful Cynic at May 5, 2006 08:49 AM | TrackBack