I’m so glad I’m escaping the muggy, sticky city this weekend, and even happier that it’s to go see the Laura & Sebastian. I’ve missed them. It was one of those things that just hit me when I was walking home from work last week; I really miss them, and so I need this trip, so the three of us can hang out before we’re off to Chicago, India, and Romania respectively.
I mean, these are the people who were a huge part of making that December 2004 what it was:
Conversations We Were Always on the Verge of Having
On weekend nights, while most college students were at some type of parties, we would go to a bookstore or on some other errand. Then we’d drive to an out of the way Dunkin Donuts to avoid seeing Skidmore students. One night, we don’t feel like going home right away, and we’re almost as Laura’s apartment when a Bon Jovi song comes on the radio. We shocked that Sebastian knows all the words.
“You know who Bon Jovi is?” I ask
He gives me a dirty look. “Of course I know who Bon Jovi is. I’ve been living in Eastern Europe, not under a rock.”
“And you know the words?”
“I like this song.”
“Wow, I thought I was the only one who had such shameful taste in music.”
“My taste in music is also…shameful,” and he lists off a number of singers that he likes.
“Lets drive around making confessions!” Laura suggests.
“I saw Love, Actually last weekend, and cried,” I admit, and make the turn onto Broadway instead of into the parking lot of Laura’s building.
And so we are off, admitting things that we’re mildly ashamed of and finding common ground in places we never thought possible.
************************************************
One Saturday, Sebastian declared it “bash liberal democracy” day, so we forced him to go to Target. Now, we are driving around Wilton, looking for something to do.
“My housemate is dating a libertarian. Which is totally unfair since she’s a radical femi-nazi, socialist,” I complain
“Couldn’t you just find a libertarian?” Sebastian asks.
In the backseat, Laura laughs outright. I pout. “No. There aren’t that many of them.”
“Well I’m sure you could find one if you paid enough,” Sebastian says kindly.
I ask, in equal measures shock and amusement: “Did you just tell me to get a prostitute?”
************************************************
We have just been to Scotty’s and now we’re taking the long way home, Route 32 to Route 50 through Wilton. These back roads and dark and quiet and deserted.
We’re talking above crushes and how much any one of them can screw with your head. I express my frustration that none of the dates I’ve gone on in the past month have worked out.
“They haven’t worked out because you’re still in love with HeWhoShallNotBeNamed,” Sebastian says smugly.
“I know! Shut up! I know. I don’t want to hear it!”
I’m extremely self-aware, but I do like the validation. The conversation turns to Laura and I comparing stupid things we have done over boys that we like. We’re trying to one-up each other, going as far back as Middle School with our stories.
Sebastian shakes his head. “You girls are pathetic.”
************************************************
Speaking up in Modern Political Thought is always mildly nerve-wracking; it’s easy to be intimidated by our Favorite Professor.
“I always get the impression that he thinks I’m really stupid because of my “like” habit,” I say.
“Yeah, I get that impression too,” Sebastian says. There’s a silence before he realizes to add: “I meant about him thinking I’m stupid for my like habit!”
************************************************
We are on our way to Borders, because Sebastian has a gift certificate awarded to him by the Honors Forum – for which we tease him mercilessly.
“You need to corrupt me into buying something,” Sebastian says.
“What, like porn?” I ask off-handedly.
“I suppose that was payback for the libertarian prostitute remark.”
************************************************
It’s nearly one AM, but we’re not tired, so we’re driving south on 87. As we talk, we’re finishing each other’s sentences, and neither of us require full explanations from the other – we just understand. We stop at the 24 hour Price Chopper, because she wants cookies. There is something way too much fun about late night trips to nowhere.
************************************************
It’s the last Saturday night of the semester. It’s been an odd day, and I don’t really feel like going out. But I force myself to call Laura, because I know I have to be the one to drag the other two misanthropes out.
“I’ll pick you up in a few minutes,”
“Ok, I just have to change out of pajamas”
“Um yeah, so do I.”
She giggles. “So do you think Sebastian has to change out of pajamas too?”
As has become tradition, we’re go to Dunkin’ Donuts. I make fun of Sebastian, who by the way, did have to change out of pajamas before coming out, for his very bourgeois drink
“So I was reading about Kwanzaa…” Laura starts.
“What’s that?” Sebastian interrupts.
“It’s an African holiday,” I offer.
“In that case, I don’t care,” he says, as Laura continues the explanation that Kwanzaa is an African holiday celebrating the harvest. “In that case, I really don’t care.”
I can’t stop laughing. The workers behind the counter are staring at me.
************************************************
“I’m happy to be getting out of here,” I explain, because I have been waiting for graduation since I turned in my acceleration forms last October. “But I’m really going to miss you guys.”
“Yeah, who are you going to discuss HeWhoShallNotBeNamed with?” Laura asks.
“And who is Sebastian going to get to drive him around?” I tease. “No…I really am going to miss you guys. If both of you were going to be up here next semester I’d almost want to stay. Now I’m gonna cry…I am so lame.”
We’re almost back to campus when Laura sighs; “Man, we really all screwed up picking a college.”
“Hey, they offered me a full scholarship, I have an excuse!” Sebastian exclaims.
“That’s true. And Rachel managed to pick the wrong college twice. She really sucks!”
I have to laugh because she’s kind of right. When I was transferring, I didn’t think if Skidmore would be a good fit; I just had to get away from Hampshire. But sitting in the car that night, it was more evidence that transferring, for better or worse, had been the right decision.
-December 2004
