Here’s a revelation both astonishing and trite: my course is over and I’m very nearly devastated. I really don’t know what I’m going to do with myself. In particular, next Monday I’ll sharply miss:

• the morning adrenaline rush as I run to catch the GO train
• finding Tom on the last train car and talking so much that we miss our stop every single day. “This morning we’ll get off at Bloor!” Uh, nope.
• Anne’s ‘good morning’ smile
• wondering who will drop “I’m pulling this out of my butt” or some variation thereof into class discussion. I said this in the first week in regards to a terrible grammar lesson and I never lived it down.
• looking at Lara’s shoes, Rachel’s skirts, Mary-Lynn’s shawls, & Jeremy’s t-shirts
• getting the first spot on the dominoes at break and waiting in the sun for everyone else to straggle back with their coffee and snack
• being downtown, on my own, completing serious business. I haven’t been this happy in years.
• Yulie’s understated sense of humour
• peppering Steve with stories about how his Ramones album has completely infiltrated the Blake’s consciousness. (Hey Ho! Let’s Go!)
• collecting compliments on my “Powerpoint without Powerpoint” presentation last Monday
• knowing that the compliments are genuine. I kicked ass in that presentation.
• the genuine concern when I spent two days in the hospital
• reading subtext into everything Princess does and says, including her compliments. (Fun in a snarky way!)
• eating downtown. Oh. My. God. I can’t stand the thought of being cut off from the buffet at Noah’s.
• thriving and blooming as an English teacher
• Marty’s compassion and sense of humour. It’s hard to call a professor from the hospital; he made it much easier.
• laughing with Lara’s comparison of us two (“you’re like the Mini-Me!”)
• trying to figure out D. Thomas (6 years in MUN has to count for something)
• wondering if Jeremy will be late; wondering if I’ll be
• trading hippie festival reminisces with Christine and showing her the wonders of Noah’s
• listening to Jeff tear a strip off me in debate because I wasn’t being logical (I know. I have weird tastes in discourse.)
• watching Darlene giggle about the time I referred to dangling phrases as “danglers”
• talking to Rachel about her God
• Ashleigh’s indefinable resemblance to Pixie
• Mary-Lynn’s dandelion clock mind: diffuse and beautiful
• the possibility, however slight, of running into Preacher again
• very subtly avoiding any group with Princess in it
• reading research and becoming comfortable with the idea that I, too, may produce publishable insights some day
• Akaran’s amazing ability to encourage the Blake into a wild frenzy of headbutting
• Steve’s crotch-seeking helium dirigible (which started life as a balloon and a Tim Hortons coffee cup)
• Jeremy’s hands: birds that never rest.
• the chance to (once again) explore the world of poorly-planned interpretative movement
• Rob speaking Italian to me every morning and afternoon
• Rob. Just everything about him. The snarky comments, the pained honesty, the outrageous compliments, the beautiful shoes. There’s too much here for a bulleted list; during today's last-day pub lunch I sat with his arm around me for 20 minutes and that seemed about right. And also not nearly enough.

Today was our final hour, lifted from the classroom to the pub. I drank too much and didn’t cry. Somehow I think I got it backwards.

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 7/28/2005 08:12:00 p.m.