(tattoo)

it was cool in the bay area that night, but not nearly as cold as my recent trip back to chicago for christmas. the trip when brady had showed me the tattoo he'd went ahead and procured along with an attitude as to whether or not i was serious when i committed to getting one with him.

that attitude being that i was a lost cause. brady can be pretty impatient sometimes.

hence his solo trip to the chair.

back in the bay, i was long past my decision phase...which had admittedly taken a very long time. inspired by brady's tat i'd been doodling in econ class and during the downtime i had between weights and soccer practice, honing in on an image that i knew i could live with for the rest of my life.

something i was going to see every time i took my shirt off. something i'd be explaining to people for years to come.

i had it. and i needed a needle.

deuce and i rode up route 280 along the coast to san francisco, a city where tattoo artists are not only readily available, but chocked with talent. it was dusk, and i wasn't sure how i'd pick a place to have it done, so deuce patiently hung around with me as we walked up and down columbus, nervously indecisive.

how do i pick a place, i thought. it's gotta be perfect. this is forever. like a bride and her wedding dress, i was determined to find the perfect place.

after a few window shopping-ish walkthroughs, an artist in one shop came up to me and asked me what i was looking for. i showed her my drawings, and i explained to her their significance. she told me she loved what i'd done, and asked if she could prep a sample for me. i asked her how long she'd been drawing, and she told me she'd given janis joplin a tattoo.

it was a small, quiet shop with only one other patron, getting her entire back done in three or four sittings, this being her second.

i felt comfortable, and the drawing this woman brought back to me was just what i was looking for. with a lighteness in my gut like the first time you ride a rollercoaster, i paid her to ink my chest.

i've always been a bit of a contradiction...a mix of subversiveness and mainstream...hopefully not quite what i look like.

what i am, without any shred of doubt, is a happy product of my family. extremely fortunate to have been born to the parents who raised me the way they did, into the enormous and close family we have all over the world.

my tattoo would reflect my wonderful family.

i've treasured it ever since.

it's a half sun kind of thing with the four flames discreetly shaped as the first initials of each one of my immediate family members. the sun, being half-shaped, is in the shape of a stemless "D", thus surrounding me with family.

i know that when i have my own family (i.e. wife and kids), i'll get a matching tattoo on my back over my left shoulder blade, directly behind the tat i already have. they will draw a line through my heart.

(graduation)

this weekend my youngest sister graduated from college, and i drove down to st. louis and back with my middle sister to attend the ceremonies.

stacey is the youngest memeber of our generation on my mother's side, which includes some 20 odd cousins, most of whom have managed to turn themselves into doctors and lawyers.

the majority of them live on the east coast, and as such a simple family meeting would suffice to up and decide to turn ourselves into a very powerful east coast irish mafia organization.

that aside, stacey brought up the rear with a stellar university career highlighted by her Magna Cum Laude honors* and degree in International Business and Accounting**.

she's moving to japan to teach english in two months, which made her one of the few graduating seniors in her class that had an answer to the most-asked question on grad weekend; "what are your plans for the future?"

st. louis is a quaint midwest city full of terrible drivers.

it doesn't help that the city doesn't paint half of its major roads, and it also doesn't help that the people in st. louis are predominantly from missouri.

the actual graduation ceremony, of course, was soul-crushingly boring.

the fact that our nation's nexus of higher level thinking celebrates its participant's success by standing around in robes puking cliches about the future is ironic and depressing.

can society's intellectual elite not think up a better way to honor graduates?

how did the keynote speaker to stacey's business school graduation end her speech, you might ask?

"be all you can be."

i mean.

really?

an old army slogan is all you could muster up?

after that two-hour fiasco, the weekend was a whole bunch of great weather, food, and alcohol.

how was everyone else's weekend?




*my other sis was Summa Cum Laude, and at the ceremony i leaned across her and told my parents, "well...there's Summa, there's Magna, and then there's me."

**at which point i realized i'm the only sibling in our family with a Bachelor of Arts degree...both my sisters have Bachelor of Science degrees...the evidence of my lack of comparative intelligence is piling up.

(san diego revisited)

the edward hopper exhibition ends on saturday, and i haven't seen it.

i want to. i'm thinking friday sometime after lunch. join me.

the main concern this weekend, however, is the arrival of my dear friend SauSau from san diego. you may remember the band's trip to san diego.

Sau took us all over san diego, first to pacific beach then to del mar and she's the reason i stayed another day and switched my flight while i was standing on the beach.

my buddies fell in love with her and decided she needed sunglasses so they bought her some, because she wouldn't buy them for herself.

when we're all together we tend to wear our sunglasses.

so she's in town saturday, and we want to take her to a delicious and fun dinner, followed by a deliciously fun after-hours venue.

i want your help.

what are your favorite spots in chicago for entertaining out of towners?

(get tested)

a fried of a friend has leukemia and is waiting on a bone marrow donor match.

she made this video, to encourage people (especially minorities) to get tested.



the video made me think, man,

there's so much life out there.

we should share it.

(first place)

this seems like a good time for a bracket update, because i'm winning my bracket, and that's the kind of thing that doesn't always remain true for very long.

of the sweet sixteen teams, i have 12 right.

i didn't pick villanova, west virginia, xavier, or western kentucky.

yeah; i did pick davidson. they're really the reason i'm in first place.

some other notable picks (i feel like this will be my last chance to brag, so bear with me):

first round: villanova over clemson, western kentucky over drake.

second round: obviously, davidson over georgetown. i mean stephen curry over georgetown.

that kid has scored 55 of his 70 points in the second half.
nice weekend, kid.

so going forward,

unless he can do it again against wisconsin,

i'm a little nervous about my lofty seat atop our pool.

(twin trees)

thank you, trees.



before i headed out to celebrate easter with my family,

i just had to say,

that that game yesterday:

was. awesome. and. terrifying.

(ncaa)

this morning, with it's cascaded sunshine and crisp but comfortable smooch on the cheek as i walked to catch a cab marks the start of the madness that is college basketball's race for the coveted national championship.

the big dance.

when i was a younger man, my list of priorities was topped by two words:

NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP.

as a freshman it wasn't something i thought realistic...i'd chosen to play for a relatively unremarkable program in the face of offers to join arguably more likely contenders for the sport's top collegiate prize.

i'd sacrificed a bit of soccer prowess for a bit of academic prowess.

nonetheless, my last game as a freshman was played in front of 20,000 fans and broadcast across the nation on ESPN, as we lost to indiana 3-1 in the national championship game.

who knew?

from that point on, my priority was a return to the Final Four and a better result than our first trip.

a ring.
undisputably the best.

my sophomore season came to devastating end when i missed a penalty kick at the end of double-overtime and shoot-out against our biggest rival santa clara at home, in front of a packed crowd of 10,000 of my friends and classmates. it was a sudden-death, one off between me and one of their guys, winner take all.

i was unhappy with the result...let's just leave it at that, mkay?

my junior year we made another run at the title with renewed focus and a battle hardened team with tournament experience. we found ourselves matched up against SMU in our home stadium, vying for a spot in the Final Four, the two top-ranked teams in the nation. we'd spent all year ranked #1, firing on all cyliders.

but alas, a late goal turned our dreams on their head, and we watched a group of texans pack up on their way to the Finals.*

so senior year arrived...and nothing else mattered. i was the best player i'd ever be, a co-captain with The Lee on a fortified team of professionally bound players. we couldn't see anything but success. we were favored.

oh, fate...you little bitch.

this time we cruised through the playoffs and earned our ticket to the Final Four. we were decidely and by most accounts the best team and playing our best soccer. our parents were pretty excited. our girlfriends were flying to ohio to be there when it happened.

and it didn't happen. again in front of thousands and again on ESPN we watched the clock wind down to the last five minutes of our semi-final game against UCLA...we looked up at a scoreboard that showed us ahead 2-0.

i was taken off the field. i was battling mono, and i was done. after three long months of fighting a silent illness just hoping to make it one more weekend, i was un-useful and looking ahead to the championship.

and i turned around to watch UCLA put two unlikely shots into the back of our net.

i sat there, on the sideline of my dream, and saw UCLA take our immediate future away with a goal in overtime.

i watched it all in desperate horror.

and i never got the national championship i so wanted.

and i'm left with this...in a way that's not just knowledge but in a way that i can taste and hear and smell and feel:

it's elusiveness is its beauty and its venom, that national championship .





*i scored the best goal of my career in this game.

(a different kind of relationship)

after italy, and back under the warm and tender blanket of my hometown, i first glimpsed the idea that soccer might have an endpoint for me.

at seventeen years old, nearly everyone is simultaneously invincable and miserable.

two seemingly disparate sentiments might seem as if they can't coexist, until you look back into the conflicts of your teenage years, and realize that you found immeasurable joy in the situations that made you comfortable, and an equal amount of distaste for whatever didn't fit into your (typically self-absorbed) framework for the world.

a world which, in no way, bears a semblence to the 'real world'.

soccer, for me, filled up almost all of that little world in that little white suburban environment.

(girls and passive rebelliance topped off the remainder.)

soccer took me to foreign countries.
soccer fueled my hormones, dictated my diet, chose my closest friends.

it gave me an outlet for anger and pain.
it gave me a tightknit group of talented teammates to enter battle with, week in and week out.

it sketched pictures of things that you can't see: loyalty, trust, teamwork, and respect.

and in so many ways, it was just my thing.

right at that point, after italy, i was officially a member of this nation's national team, on a short list of the best players in the country. i was captain of my highschool team, which was arguably regarded as the country's best.

newspapers were following my college decision process.
things were going very well, by all counts.

(i hope most of what i've written on this blog prefaces those statements with the necessary humility, because i cringe at self compliment.)

in light of all that, this period of my life was intensely emotional.

i'd never been so conflicted.

the attention and the pressure was suffocating, and as cliched as it seems now...all i wanted was to hang out with my friends. duck away from the decisions and the finality of home ending, and the future beginning.

i fought with my parents. mostly my father.
i pouted about filling out college applications and bitched about every single college visit i was asked to go on.

which turned out to number eighteen, if i remember right.

i'd just been honored with the sport's highest honors and it's resulting array of choices turned me into a resentful and nearsighted genuine pain in the ass. i was happy to do anything that didn't involve college.

when i think back to that period of my life, i see the fortunes i was handed...i see the best kind of problems a kid could have, dining on choices and gobs of opportunity. i almost feel guilty writing about it, and i very much regret the wedge it drove between my father and i, as he nearly begged me to consider stanford and schools on the east coast in the face of the choices closer to home or to my then girlfriend's chosen destination.

and i remember making my decision almost entirely so the process would be over.

and hoping that i could reverse it if i hated the west coast.
knowing i wouldn't be able to reneg in reverse..it was stanford now or never stanford.

a romance had been fractured, during that long and painful schoolyear...soccer and i had our first fight, and what had always been a fruitful and bumpless road had ever so slightly been thrown off course, and for the first time in my life i thought our relationship might not last forever. the honeymoon was over, and we'd have to work on our relationship in the times to come.

as i look back today, that experience made my relationship with the beautiful game stronger. we made it to college, where i became ten times the player i ever was before. the game showed me it's dirty secrets...trusted me with it's intricacies and taught me how to push it's buttons.

i flourished on the west coast and thanked my lucky stars i'd arrived where i was almost every day thereafter.

but i never forgot that time, and i kept with me the glimpse i'd had of a little notion, tucked away in the back of my mind...in the back of my heart.

soccer and i weren't destined to spend our life together.

(introductions)

on saturday night a college friend's brother was introduced to me, and he looked at me and said, "wait...didn't you streak the stanford graduation?"

my immediate response was, "i've been waiting for this moment ever since. yes...that was me."

(red bunz bunnery)

i spoke with my buddy deuceman (other aliases: 2, kooter, koitzy, donkeyballs, bunners, red bunz bunnery) all the way to work this morning, because today is his 28th birthday.

the man's simply a legend, and as i think i've mentioned before, i spent the first few days after i'd met him, a decade ago and the first day i set foot on stanford's campus, sort of grossed out by him.

he creeped me out.
he was greasy.
he was smallish.
i couldn't figure out if he was an upperclassman or a rookie, and i was a bit disshevled at the prospect of sharing my rookie year with such an oddball teammate.

on the first night of preseason, as i silently wondered what life in california would entail, our upperclassman demanded that the six freshman put on their sunday best and Meet The Team in the reading room of the dorm we were lodged in.

we stood at the room's entrance, next to the women's freshman, drinking vodka and sprite, peeking into a big room with big, scary college soccer players lining the walls, ready to interogate us one by one.

i wore a tie, button down, and jacket.

koitz looked like this, roughly:



as i'm sure you've surmised, it didn't take long for me to realize i'd totally underestimated this 5 foot 4 ball of energy, style, and a self-confidence, so a month or so later when preseason ended and we'd been integrated with our fellow classmates and he decided his assigned roommates just weren't worth his time, i was happy to have him simply move in with me and my two roommates.

he spent his entire freshman year living out of a bag filled with nike dri-fit clothes and sleeping in whatever bed, futon, or closet wasn't occupied (or was occupied, but had room...there's always room for a koitz).

it sounds odd, but only if you haven't met the dueceman.

what began there turned into one of the most unique and rewarding friendships i'll ever have, and i have a lot of deep, spectacularly rewarding friendships.

kooter, though, makes the world vibrate.

our friendship has always been an adventure...in practice, in emotion, and with vigor.

i heap passion into describing the relationship i have with chalise now, as the two of us find ourselves within walking distance of one another. but the open emotional ties and spontaneous exploration of life i'm able to share with her now was practiced and perfected with the grey goose pounding, fitness freak you see pictured here.

we'd be in class before breakfast and in LA by dinner. we'd run off to san francisco to have one drink at the W hotel in between set-up and the kick-off of our annual fraternity toga party, just because people at the W are beautiful.

we streaked graduation together.

one of the most entertaining pieces of video i've ever filmed was koitz dancing shirtless with (or sexually molesting) a refrigerator.

and if i ever find that again, you'll undoubtedly see it.

but in the end, among the truly gifted and seriously cool people i got to know in college, this man stands out as a giant among elves...an integral piece of quirky fabric in a funky quilt of truly killer individuals.

koitz, i'm sorry i underestimated you.

and i'm honored to be one of your inner circle.

happy birthday, bunners.

remember me when the world catches on to you, and your inevitable rise to fame begins.

(flirting tactics)

"hi, um, excuse me...hi. what's your name?"

"um, i'm chalise."

"hi, chalise...what dorm are you in?"

"i'm in bromley, with a friend from home. how about you?"

"hendrick."

"oh i hear that a sweet dorm!"

*awkward silence*

"so chalise, where are you and your roommate from?"

"oh we're from a suburb of chicago."

"me too! do you know any soccer players up there? i played soccer...just wondering if we knew the same people."

"yeah, like all my guy friends played soccer...what's your name?"

"oh, sorry...i'm D."

"D what?"

"D S*******."

"D S*******? D S*******."

"yeah...why?"

"the soccer player? the really good soccer player who was like all-american? that's you? like..."THE" D S*******?!"

"yeah! why, have you heard of me? i was the guy at st. charles...we were supposed to win our third championship last year but we blew it. that's so funny that you've heard of me!"

"oh, i've definitely heard of you. in fact, you're my ex-boyfriend and my best friend. and i just put you on a plane to california!"




when chalise called me to tell me this story (like four seconds after it happened) we both almost cried at the irony of it all. his name was really gus...and they were actually kind of buds for a while!

as many chicagoans have been noting, we're under snow here in the windy city. i honestly can't remember where my car was parked, having not driven in a few days, and there's so much snow out there i'm not sure i'll be able to identify it when i go look for it.

but i love the snow, and the mildish cold temperatures, and i'll find that damn car eventually, right?

so let's finish up that interview with alexis, yes?

-+-+-

if someone i'd never met asked about me, what would you say to describe me?

He’s genuine, loyal, seeks out interesting people and conversation, engaging, thoughtful.

He’s one of those people you can pick up with right where you left off and no harm’s done, as long as the relationship was always important and legit because he has an acute eye for pretense and falsehood.

Why am I making this interview sound so fucking formal? He rocks. He's always able to laugh at himself, which is probably the best quality I’ve found in anyone throughout my short life.


what fun or funny stories do you remember about us?

oh boy...

Koitz’s Roble room? [editor's note: i refer to koitz as 'deuce' on this blog a lot, and he signs his comments "2"]

Ok, honestly, why are all the stories I can think of about sex? This one’s actually kind of cute looking back; total attempt at being romantic as Freshmen: You had the idea of getting a room at some hotel in Palo Alto and borrowing this girl’s station wagon to get there and, I can’t remember if we went out to dinner beforehand, but the whole point was to be somewhat adult like and have a night to ourselves to be intimate and whatnot. [zing!]

Which we were, but I remember we tried to have sex in the bathtub and I ended up getting pissed off because a) sex in water is never as great as you think it’s going to be and b) I couldn’t come for the life of me, which still manages to piss me off most of the time.

But you were cute; very considerate of the whole situation. God, I think I even cried. Lord.

[koitz...um...yeah. you knew.]

I think during our Sophomore year, we all went down to the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, back when our football team was decent. After the game, and after everyone was drunk, we all ended up finding floor to crash on in someone’s parents’ house.

We were all in the same living room piled up on each other and no one was even remotely asleep yet, and you and I were under a blanket on the couch; I think you were even having a conversation with someone laying on the floor next to us, and completely spooning me from behind.

My god I can’t believe I just remembered that.

This certainly wasn’t so funny then, but looking back now the whole thing cracks me up.

Audience, you should first know that D and I had a very tumultuous relationship throughout college, to say the least (we broke up on two different Valentines’, found out some cheating was going on via emails...just bullshit college stuff).

But after the final time that we broke up during Spring going into Summer, I proceeded to handwrite him a 37 page letter---yes, that’s right, I said 37---and mail it to him at his pre-season for soccer his Senior year, along with photocopies of every single letter he’d ever written to me.

Good GOD. Talk about freaking someone out.

Honestly, I don’t think we really ever talked about that. It was probably too weird. I mean, seriously, how did I have that much to say? [i still have it!]

I think it’s funny, or maybe cute, that during morning workouts (I was on the swim team at school) when we had dry land and I was running the loop (basically just a big loop roadway around campus), I’d run faster just so when I ran by SAE I could stop by and give you a kiss while you were half asleep at like 5:45am.

Talk about inspiration Everybody now: Awwwwww!

what were some of my good qualities? and my bad qualities?

Confidence.

I’m realizing now that’s by far my favorite quality in a man, definitely the sexiest, and absolutely the only common thread between anyone I’ve dated. You could really give a shit what anyone thinks about you, unless it’s you’re good friends, and then their opinions count immensely.

The whole passionate thing I mentioned earlier, and then I'd include with that; inspirational. You have the ability to lead not in an oppressive way, but as a true friend to all those around you.

You’re selfless in a lot of ways, whether it be how you invest your time and energy, to how you commit to other people endeavors or needs or wants.

And not to keep bringing up the sex thing, but being much older now I realize how special it was that you were not a selfish lover. Now I know that’s rare in a man.

You're intelligent, and even more importantly, wise. You’ve always had this weird quality of wisdom that you shouldn’t have had when you were in college, when you were 19, 20. You’re very aware of what problems people might be going through before they do, and even more importantly, you’re very aware of how to approach touchy issues.

When I was dating D, I went through quite a long period of depression coupled with some other issues, and he was well aware of it long before I knew what was going on. To this day, I’m impressed he had any clue as to what I was going through, and even what to do about it.

But beyond my experiences, he’s just incredibly in touch with people. More than they might know.

Now for the bad...he’s non-confrontational. It’s funny because of the aforementioned insight, you should definitely call out people long before you do or before problems happen. I’m not sure about this, but I think you have a tendency to wait for people to figure things out for themselves, when you may in fact be more helpful by confronting them early.

You’re too sensitive to how they might react. No? I don’t know.

what are my faults?

This is a little harder to answer because I’m sure the faults I’d think of have changed quite a bit in six years. Or at least they should have.

But when we dated, I’d say you were trustworthy to a fault. In me...in other’s intentions, etc. This obviously goes right along with being non-confrontational.

-+-+-

alexis i'll again thank you for the things you wrote and the effort you put into writing these answers. i hope some readers enjoyed it, and i definitely did.

lex wasn't sure what she'd written would suffice, or make her thoughts clear, or be entertaining, but i left what she wrote as she wrote it and posted it, because i think it rings honest.

please share your reactions in the comments!

alexis, pictured here, answers some inquiries into our past, and what the person writing this blog might actually be like.

more to come, and a big thank you to her for being so open.

-+-+-



what'd you think when i asked you to do this? what came to your head when i brought it up?

You prefaced it as something kinda crazy or offensive that you wanted to ask me to do, so I was expecting something far worse. Not that it was anti-climactic to be asked to do an interview about you, but more like, “Oh, well, of COURSE.” The prospect was kind of exciting.

If anything, I thought it sounded like fun. Especially because our relationship is something I, of course, haven’t thought about in depth in quite awhile.

I will say though, that I wondered, a) what prompted you to ask me to do this now, and b) why you asked me to do it over some other ex-girlfriend. Or over another friend of yours, for that matter.

I mean, you know the kind of shit I’m going to say about you...

ha! the floor is yours. so, what kind of person do you think i am, based on the time when we knew each other best?


Passionate.

And that’s in equal measures passionate about other people and their lives, interests, problems, ideas, and abilities...etc.

Actually, this was the first word that came to mind, and I thought I’d immediately come up with better ones, but it’s definitely the most fitting. From how you played soccer to how you dance, how you kiss, sexually, all of it.

Also, I think about the fact that I really listened to you and your thoughts and opinions (which is not something I do in general with anyone) and trusted you because you were always genuine, always convincing; this is 100% due to your level of passion.

Even down you the music I listen to …it’s completely a result of your influence (audience: note that I did not listen to or know any classic rock before I met D. Honestly, I really didn’t start listening to much music until after meeting him).

One of the many things I love about you is that you wholeheartedly respect and engage your full emotions in other people’s expertise in such a positive way: you’ve always appreciated what others can do really well and commend them hugely for it. Perhaps this is something I’ve taken note of specifically because I have a strong tendency to get irritated or annoyed if I’m not as good at something as someone else.

But you’ve always immersed yourself in the appreciation of others’ talent and skill.

-+-+-



and like i said...there's more! stay tuned.

i've dated two women since college began.

well...two and half (i'll open that can o' worms soon).

lately i've been exploring some of the memories of my most recent relationship with kate, and i haven't really explained why that is. at this point we've only gotten to that relationship's first kiss.

as some point soon, i'll move that along.



for the moment, though, we're talking about alexis.

during college i got deeply involved with alexis, and it started right out of the gates during our freshman year.

i lived in the biggest freshman dorm on campus at stanford; a two floor, two-winged complex that uniquely placed freshman in two-room, three-person pairings.

by some nearly impossible stroke of luck (as stanford randomly pairs every freshman by design) i walked in and met my roommates only to find out one of them, taylor, was not only a soccer player, but going to be a walk-on for the team. he'd even grown up with leemo (national team co-hort and fellow stanford teammate) and was basically the nicest kid in the world.

tayfunk and i became instant friends.

tayfunk and alexis went to senior prom together.

alexis was housed right below us on the first floor.

i immediately wanted to know why tayfunk wasn't after alexis; she was drop dead gorgeous, fun, athletic, and just seemed ideal for the kid (as he was all of those things too).

he brushed those inquiries off with the same fervor that i brush off those inquiries into chalise and i. they were childhood friends. that was it.

which naturally resulted, eventually, in my own pursuit.

lex was (and is) spunky, artsy, outgoing, and sharp.

she was (and is) exotically beautiful, an olympic-caliber swimmer, intensely driven and motivated.

and eventually she saw something in me (god knows) and we inched our way into a long, intense relationship.

over the years that relationship explored every corner of emotional, intellectual, and physical connection that two young adults are capable of, both good and bad.

in some ways it was tender and supportive.
in some ways it was an all out fist-fight.

at times it was honest, trusting, and reliable.
and at times it was dishonest, manipulative, and confrontational.

it was far more great than not.

it made us both better versions of ourselves, without a shred of doubt. and for an unsuccessful relationship i think that's, in a lot of ways, the most you could ever hope for.

(okay, there's also the fact that she modeled for a while after college, which is a great notch in the belt. most guys hope to date models, but it's nice knowing you saw it early, too.)

having kept in touch since graduation largely via email, this blog, and chats online, i find that we've fortunately maintained some of the stuff that fueled our connection: we share ideas, jokes, and broad-stroke thoughts on everything from relationships to our experience of this stage in our lives.

which is why, as i mentioned a short bit ago, i felt comfortable asking her for a little interview.

and man, did she come though.

so later today, roughly after lunch, i'll post the first part of alexis' reflection on yours truly and our relationship!


because i'm sure you're quite sick of only getting my side of the story.

in an effort to spice up your tuesday, and to make up for what one of my readers called an 'uninsightful post this morning', i thought i'd share some of my more memorable naked experiences.

no, perverts, not those experiences.

so here's my top two*.

my almost best nude escapade.

my most recent ex-girlfriend's sister went to a local state school not known for it's academic excellence. the two of us went to visit her, pretty early on in our relationship, and ended up in the inevitable pre-gaming drinking game in said sister's apartment.

we were actually playing a drinking board game that The Ex's sister and her roommates had invented, manufactured, and was getting quite a name for itself around campus. part of the game involved some truth or dare.

i chose dare.

a roommate dared me to sprint out across her well-lighted back lawn, touch her car, and run back into the house wearing absolutely nothing. the lawn was huge...the run would be a good 100 yards or so.

that's a football field.

oh.

and it was ZERO degrees out.

i'm not sure, but i think i was supposed to do five pushups or something, to make sure i got to 'experience the weather'.

it's the fastest i've ever run, and i'm sure it was the proudest The Ex ever was of her boyfriend.

my best nude escapade.

this one made even my parents proud.

i went to a rather liberal, rather progressive west coast university that generally treated its students like adults.

every exam on campus was un-proctored. professors could not be around for them, and the honor code was drilled into you as a freshman.**

alcohol inside the freshman dorms was protected from the local police by privacy concerns...which meant kegs in frosh hallways were frequent.

point is, things worked a bit different out there.

true to form, our graduation ceremony begins with the infamous wacky walk.

instead of filing out onto the stadium field for our graduation ceremonies in an orderly fashion, seniors and graduate students are encouraged to swarm out en masse in whatever creative or expressive manner they see fit.

floats, balloons, placards, signage, musical instruments, costumes.

or, you know,

...nothing.

we'd conceived the idea the night before, as a group of us hashed our dining hall (another word for cleaning up after everyone). every other week or so we'd been nudie-hashing after dinners to keep our fraternity brothers from staying late and delaying our clean-ups.

why not nudie-hash graduation?

we woke up early, immediately began drinking champagne (for the nerves), and put on front-covering aprons. we cut eye-holes in white cloth strips and tied them around our heads. we put on big yellow rubber dish-washing gloves and running shoes.

and then four of us nudie-hashed the wacky walk.

in front of about fifteen-thousand people the four of us jogged out onto the field, kicking a beach ball back and forth between us, and began a very long circle around the track and festivities.

as we came around in front of the crowd, people became NOTICEABLY louder and we effected a virtual stadium wave of onlookers as the four of us moved along the front of the seating area.

we pretended not to notice.

we would casually stop and chat...turn our bare white asses to the crowd...hear the volume rise and fall according to our little stunts.

almost right away the newspaper photographers had us surrounded, asking for photos and names. (ed. note: eat your heart out britney.)

fellow graduates happened upon us and snapped their own photos.

condoleeza rice walked by on her way to the podium as our commencement speaker.

after the ceremony, every parent and relative i knew and many i didn't know came up to laugh and compliment our boldness...much to the quiet chagrin of my stunned parents. i know my dad thought it was hilarious.

all in all, it was incredibly liberating and the perfect send-off to what had been four incredible years of growth and experience.

i bet you didn't know taking your clothes off could be such a thing, huh?





*of many.

**yes, students took advantage. i have another great story for another time as a result.