I’ve been reflecting a lot over the last week on this last year of my life. It’s amazing how much can happen in just one year. How many funny, wonderful, sad, spiritual, ridiculous memories can be formed when you throw some random 20 something year olds into a house together and make them hang out.
I was remembering the end of August, when the six of us sat around the living room, for what seemed like hours, discussing whether or not we should get internet in the house.
And in September when we had a fancy dinner with the Dupont Jesuits complete with salmon, pork chops, beer, wine, and goat cheese.
And in October when we threw a ridiculous 90’s themed party, danced to Backstreet Boys, and dressed in plaid. Then we hosted a potluck which ended up stocking our liquor cabinet (metal shelf by back door) for months.
And in November when Lucas’ dad came to visit and brought baby pictures of Lucas and cooked us Nepalese food. The best part was that Tricia called Lucas’ dad, Shree, requesting that he bring pictures, to which Shree responded, “Yes, I have some from the day we picked Lucas up at the orphanage that I will bring. Wait. You DO know that Lucas is adopted, right?”
Then there was December, when we traipsed to the 9:30 club for Bread for the City’s annual fundraiser, dressed inappropriately for 20 degree weather, partook in an open bar, and saw Sugar Ray in concert.
In January, we celebrated Kierstin’s birthday with a scavenger hunt around town, had a death row exonoree over for dinner, and took the Meyer’s-Briggs Personality Inventory. The death row exonoree and the personality test were separate events and not a part of Kierstin’s birthday celebration.
And in February, when my dad visited and grilled fajitas and made margaritas for us during the record breaking snow storm. If a JV community can survive being holed up in their house for a week enduring cabin fever and still live to tell about it, they can survive anything. As a side note, I was reminded of the time, during phase II of the record breaking snow storm, of walking to Chinatown with Kristina to watch Nicholas Spark’s “Dear John,” then walking to Safeway and a shady liquor store, to ensure that 130 Bryant had enough alcohol to help us make it until we got a break from any kind of precipitation.
Then there was March, when we drove up to Tricia’s home town of Seaside, NJ for their annual St. Patrick’s Day parade, only for it to get rained out and have to spend the whole weekend trapped inside her house playing Pictionary telephone, eating cornbeef, and drinking Bailey’s.
Then there was April, when we watched Marc and Lexi, two FJV’s, wed, then bartended at their reception.
And then in May, when Tricia and I both celebrated our birthdays!
And in June, when everyone scattered all around the country for different trips, but we still managed to have one last big meal together before Tricia started the next phase of her life and left for medical school.
Now, it’s July, and I can’t figure out where all this time I thought we had together went. In 3 short weeks, each of us will be moving on to the next phase, in Chicago, and New York, and Boston, and Jersey, and me staying in DC, and it will be painful to say goodbye, but I have these wonderful memories to keep with me forever.
