Surprise

Last week Taryn and Richard threw a surprise party for me. I had asked Taryn earlier what our schedule should be for studying and dinner after our exam. She kept saying something about Lentz House and pizza and people from my hall. It did not make any sense at all. When she urged me not to go to Peirce, I was even more confused. And even though none of it made any logical sense, for some reason I just kept following her around all day. When I texted Catherine, Zoey, and Meredith about dinner, none of them responded. I felt hungry, tired, and alone.

And then, around 7pm, we headed over to Lentz House, my favorite study place on campus. It is a new building, especially compared to the gothic-style church and towered dormitories of South Campus. Everything is neat and clean, but there is still a quiet, homey feel to it, like you've stumbled into a neighbor's house on a Sunday afternoon when everyone is napping. 


As we approached down the paved pathway, I saw a group of people sitting around an iron-rot table on the back patio. None of them were eating (or doing anything, really) so I assumed we were dreadfully late. "Looks like we missed the party," I said to Taryn obliviously. And then as we got closer a little tickle in the back of my head made me realize we were right on time. 

"WELCOME," J.P. said in his pretentious acting tone. Everyone gave him an amused look and then shouted, "Surprise!" as I came around the corner. My favorite songs were playing, there was a full bottle of Fresca bubbling as the cap twisted off, and the table was decorated with blue and white twisted streamers. In all, it was a lovely afternoon.


There are days when I can't believe I'm actually not going back to Kenyon College in the fall. I think that autumn and Middle Path will forever be connected in my mind. However, I know that no matter how far away I am and no matter how many bodies of water stand between us--the Kokosing, the Mississippi, the Colorado River, and the Great Salt Lake--Kenyon will always be a little bit of home.

"But when we are far from Kokosing,

We still shall hear a calling bell,

When round us evening shades are closing;

Farewell, Old Kenyon,

Fare thee well."

"In meadows sweet with asphodel..."

Picnic food.
Photo booth.
Funnel cake.
Inflatables.
Neon sunglasses.
A whole lot of drunk college kids (myself excluded).

This weekend was Kenyon's Summer Sendoff. I spent part of the day on the South Quad, mostly eating and watching highly intoxicated classmates make fools of themselves playing giant Twister and tripping over each other on the inflatable obstacle course. But it was pretty fun.


Later, instead of attending the Rebelution concert (lame, right?) I went down to the Gap Trail with Meredith, Catherine, and Katie. We played on the old train and took some pretty amazing pictures with an iPhone. When we'd had our fill of synchronized jumping, staring off into space looking super hipster, and smiling goofily into the camera, we decided to take a walk down to the Kokosing. I had never been down to the river, and I was immensely surprised at how pleasant it was.

I felt daring as I trudged through uncharted woods, jumped from rock to rock, and trekked across an abandoned field slowly making my way back to the college. If it hadn't been for the distant sounds of Rebelution echoing across the rural landscape, I would not have known I was minutes away from a bustling outdoor fair of fried food and rich kids. I felt very much removed from all that, almost like I felt as a child hiking through the Provo Canyon behind my grandfather on our summer camping trips. It even smelled like his camp fire-infused button up shirts and calloused whittling hands.