Show Me You Know Me

I was an undergraduate in New Hampshire and loved it.  I love Manchester especially not just the state as a whole. There are a lot of things to do and interesting people to meet.  Sure it has its share of problems and it is no Massachusetts, but at least it isn't Rhode Island.  Living there for four years gave me some interesting stories such as, but not limited to:


The time I fell in a covered swimming pool in November
The time I inadvertently insulted a coal miner who had hair like a cat
The time we had the greatest party ever that was never to be replicated that included a visit from a monk
The time my friends ate all of my butter in one sitting
The time I greatly regretted wearing a 'kiss me I'm Irish' pin also known as the time "Dani kissed, the people"
Post college NH fun: The time our hotel shuttle hit people outside of the bar he was dropping as off at

You know, classic college fun.  One of the strangest times I had wasn't at Saint As though, it was visiting my friend Jackie up at UNH.  I kind of blur all of these visits north to visit, but I do recall people writing all over every one's bodies in permanent marker and exceptional Beirut playing.  An individual moment that I recall vividly is when her roommate's friend cornered me in the hallway and continued to order me to "Show me you know me."

What? What does that mean?  I was drinking and so with a cloudy head I tried to list the ways we knew each other and how many times we had met but he would not  be satiated by my sloppy attempts at organized thoughts.  Another girl eventually had to break up this philosophical debate.  How does anyone really "know" anyone else, perhaps that was the real question, or perhaps he just wanted to make out... I guess we'll never know.  These are the weird times that I can look back on and think, "what were you doing?"


I mean I never really was in harm's way, well maybe falling into the pool.  That could have ended badly, and it did for my suede boots, and yes I'm still mad about those.  Over all we came out unscathed.  


However, you think we would learn from our mistakes.  To some degree, we have learned.  I mean I'm no longer accepting  drinks from possible Armenian mobsters in the basement of creepy bars.  Or engage in hijinks that needed to be relayed to me in the morning, I'm the "relayer" now.  Still, we want to relive our college years in small doses.  We do this unofficially from time to time but officially we also get together to engage in debauchery and festive merriment during the annual Eve Before the Eve.

"I wear my sunglasses at night" Corey Hart anyone?

This is a well celebrated get-together among college roommates, or five of them to be exact.  It takes place in Boston the night before Christmas Eve.  We leave the house as five people but we never return in the same group.  Whenever I review the pictures from that night they always stop before we enter JJ Foleys, the final destination of the homecoming.  I don't want crazy pictures of myself looking like a hot mess surrounded by weirdos and half drunk Magners.  To clarify, I am not embarrassed by myself, hardly ever, it takes a lot (however I am embarrassed by others sometimes).  On the contrary, I think those that are uncomfortable by me and my friends and how we spend our rare, annual holiday are just missing out, but to each his own.  I am however, super vain and like to at least look good while painting the town red.  But there have been some exceptions.

We do have photos late in the evening the year Alli wore her Minnie Mouse ears out and we danced with forty-something Lexus salesmen. That is just part of the code.  Article 2c: Do as the mouse does.

RIP Pink Kitty

This year was no different and there were of course hook ups, scary girls in the bathroom, people staying at places other than our home base, poor decision making and of course, Magners.  The jukebox may have changed at JJ Foleys but our choice of music and ability to dominate a late night crowd with Alli's mix of Rhianna and Billy Joel is unmatched.  And as I "discussed" "politics" with a gentleman caller on this most recent freakishly warm December 23rd I thought, I might outgrow this, but I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts.  I guess if you were going to show me you knew me, you'd have to tell me about a night at Foley's.