One Mississippi, Two Mississippi (Or Alligator)

At least it's not like walking into a sauna anymore.

The walk from my house to school is lined with trees starting to turn. I suppose this officially means that autumn has begun. There have been a couple nights cold enough to make me think about wearing a scarf and my gloves outside. I was dissuaded by the thoughts of ridicule coming from, like, everybody else in my class calling out a spoiled, pussy Californian. I do have to admit, though, that I've never seen such a beautiful scene in the fall. Despite what my father insists, watching the seasons turn here is most decidedly not like watching paint dry. Knowing that I'll FINALLY have an excuse to blow money on fall and winter clothes is exciting, no?


Colder weather, for some odd reason, always makes me itch to exercise more. A couple days ago at Yates Field House (the campus gym here at Georgetown), I had just finished my workout and realized that I forgot to bring my water bottle. No problem, I'll just wander on over to the drinking fountains and…

…stand in line behind a bunch of ten-year-olds waiting in line for all three drinking fountains.

Apparently, Holy Trinity School of Georgetown, conveniently situated right next to the university, occasionally holds P.E. classes at the basketball courts at Yates. Girls walking past me while I stood in line, heads and shoulders above my fellow dehydrated friends, giggled as I gave them a "Yeah, this is kind of ridiculous" look.

The best part was when one girl got up to the fountain, clearly looking sweaty and thirsty enough to dunk her head under Niagara Falls, and the brat behind her counted "ONEMISSISSIPPITWOMISSISSIPPI…" as fast as his little jaw could move. Hearing the fatal countdown go by so fast, the poor girl drank as quickly as she possibly could, but when "…TENMISSISSIPPI OKAY MY TURN!" came, she just kept sipping. (I don't blame her.) Of course came the obligatory "heeeey I counted to ten it's my turn now IT'S MYYYY TUUUURN!" I wanted to punch this jerk in the face.

Then I remembered that I was this very same jerk when I was his age. I pulled these exact shame shenanigans and whined in exactly the same way.

Technology may come and go, but schoolboys will always be dicks.