The Litte Things I Will Miss

Tonight I received a text message, a text message that seems like I've been receiving on a nightly basis from the same person since the fall of 2006, when we first met: "I'm a mess". The composer of the message was Al, who has been my best friend throughout college. It goes without saying that no one would be surprised that Al was drunk, but I was intrigued when he said that he was reading old blog entries while drunk with his father.

After drinking about six beers by myself, which has become the norm of my summer in Northern Michigan, inspired by Al and the great Steve, I began reading the blog, from its inception up to its unofficial close sometime at the end of the last semester.

What appealed to my emotions most was not the standard, comical drunken moments that are detailed at length throughout the blog's history, but rather, the little things about life at BOX that are intricately woven into the blog. It's those little things that make me proud to be a member of the exclusive fraternity of men - make no mistake, we comprise a fraternity that features a bond much stronger and much closer than anyone in Michigan's Greek life can boast - that have had the privilege of calling BOX their home. It goes without saying that everyone of us will remember tailgates, the big parties, bar nights. Any college student can say that. Only a few can say they lived in BOX to experience the little things, though, which I think made it so special.

As my graduation day on May 1st drew closer, and my days of residing in BOX neared a close during the month of April, I found myself, quite simply, sick of the BOX house. It's something any resident of the shit-hole has felt at one time or another. I was tired of living in filth, tired of hearing about yet another city inspection, tired of being the only one who knew how to use the dishwasher (or maybe just the only one who knew we even had a dishwasher), and quite frankly, worn out by the lifestyle of the genuine alcoholic I had become.

Having been separated from the mecca for a full three months now, I can truly appreciate the old saying that "absence makes the heart grow fonder". Minute occurrences that I thought I despised, I now miss. I think we all knew we would miss the big stuff, but I didn't think I would miss all the things I thought I disliked so much. Time has a way of putting a sweet flavor of reminisce into the memory, I suppose. I tend to have this feeling right around this time, the end of July, every summer, but this time, unfortunately, its permanent for all of us.

The little things I will miss about BOX House:

• Hangover Sunday's.

Having spent most of my hangovers over the past three months by my lonesome, I am quick to lament the loss of that familiar bond of struggle that occurred without fail ever Sunday morning. When Sunday's rolled around in the BOX living room, most of us were left in the trenches to fight the all-inclusive hangover from what was a hangover dating (at least) back to Wednesday night at Mitch's. There was a time freshman year when I used to use Sunday's as study days, but I, as is with all BOX residents, was forced to make Sunday a hangover day during my tenure there. In my mind, at least six of us would pile onto the couches for about twelve straight hours on those Sundays, watching mindless television, quite incapable of doing much else. Don't get me wrong, there was nothing fun about those days at the time, but there's something about retrospect that makes them seem like more fun; at least the company of others in your same boat beats what surely awaits all of us in the future, a hangover with no companion other than the wife and dog.

• The hours leading up to a tailgate

Every college student, save for the extreme nerds and clueless foreigners, knows what a football Saturday consists of. Very few know of the feeling of being at BOX at 5:30 a.m. just prior to a tailgate. I've documented it before on this blog, but it deserves saying again, I believe the time from 5:30 to about 8:00 a.m. is the best time of the tailgate. During that time you are surrounded by those who truly care, the utter die-hards of Michigan football tailgating, you are perhaps still conscious of what is about to occur, a beautiful day worthy of the great days of your life, and you can sip your drink, truly happy with the world about you.

• Pre-gaming events that aren't OK to pregame for

Many of us who have lived at BOX were self-proclaimed alcoholics, me being one of the biggest, and perhaps most sincere, of those. For an alcoholic, it is extremely convenient to have at your disposal someone willing to drink with you at a moment's notice. Quite literally, there was always someone at BOX willing to drink with you, at any given time. And I think it is here that separates BOX from the typical college student. Any college student is used to pre-gaming for football games or the bars, but I don't really remember any events in which we didn't pre-game for at BOX. If you wanted to pre-game for class, there's usually always someone who woke up still drunk who wants to do a couple shots with you before class. Christ, I pre-gamed for my own graduation. As we all move on with our lives and slowly attempt to infiltrate the real world, I think we will all find that pre-gaming many events is simply unacceptable to the real world. When in BOX, you could simply spit on the expectations of the real world and come drunk to anything you wanted.

• Socially Unacceptable Amounts of Pre-Gaming

I often heard college students remarking on how they pre-gamed too much before the party. "Wow, I got way too drunk before the party," I would hear. I remember thinking to myself, "thank God I'm in BOX". Yeah, college students get too drunk sometimes. For each person who got too drunk before a party that one time a week, we were getting too drunk before parties 5 times a week. BOX took it to another level. If we were going to a bar or to a party, it was blackout or bust. People would consume an entire fifth, two 40's of CSI, or 15 beers before going out, and then we would still outdrink everyone at the party after that. Now that I've experienced the outside world for what it is, I've realized that drinking half handle of Old Crow is not what most people do before hitting the bars. That normality, I will surely miss.

That's all for now, I've got more, but I'm a bit drunk to continue writing. If only I had something else I miss from college to keep me going...

Long live the blog. Love you all. If anyone's alive out there, post your own memories.


- Brick (my google account somehow got deleted?)