I forgot how much I loved Michigan in the summer. The temperature is perfect. Being by the lake is perfect. The sunlight until 10 pm...perfect. Now i realize why I spent all of my summers here during college.
I'm here for a wedding. C and I grew up down the street from each other. We spent endless days of summer in the backyards of our own and our friends, jumping on trampolines, enjoying the lazy days. And now she's getting married.
Last night, I got to see some more of my childhood friends. M came up from her house in Indiana with her fiance, and we went to dinner. Harvard came along. We spent the night laughing endlessly at Harvard's intellectual banter and incessant picking on me. Times never change.
My favorite part of the night, though, happpened at dinner. When we were ordering, Harvard and I were going to get the same thing - carbanara. (Which, by the way, was invented when Italian soldiers were fighting and the only food they had was cream, pancetta, mushrooms, and an egg, and they cooked it in their metal battle hats. These are the stories you get from a Harvard graduate.) But instead, he changed to get the pesto, and we agreed to share.
So the food comes - from our stoned waiter - and we eat. Then, we switch plates, and I start eating the pesto. He warned me that it wasn't stellar, and it wasn't. I missed my carbanara. So I pouted and kept saying, "Switch back? Switch back?" And Harvard finally gave my food back. Then, the whole rest of the night, he proceeded to try to steal my leftovers. It didn't work. I came out with the carbanara, and many blows to my ego.
But, wait...I graduated from Northwestern, with only a cum laude, but I have a job. Mr. Harvard, and your magna cum laude with highest praise crap, where's your job?
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