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The Calm Before the Storm

posted by mzemait2 at 5:59 pm.

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A certain electricity is crackling in the Champaign-Urbana air today. The sweet smell of anticipation hangs in the sky. An itch is lingering over the skin of every inhabitant. And no, for once, it’s NOT chlamydia.

The freshmen. They’re coming. And so is everyone else that decided to go elsewhere for the summer. Can you see the sides of the Quad bulge, and the cracks in the sidewalk widening? Because this place is about to explode like a cat in a microwave and turn into the Great American Singin’ and Dancin’ Shit Show Variety Hour. This Champaign is about to pop its cork.

Get it? It’s a pun. An entendre, if you will.

It’s beginning as we speak. Last night, I saw more people on the intersection of Green and Wright than I have all summer. By “more people,” I mean “about 15,” but that’s about 10 more than I normally see. More and more people have facebook statuses akin to “Lisa is OMG I just moved into my new apt and I love it, my gurls are gonna rock it this year!!!”

I’m excited to see this place transform into a living, breathing organism. The Quad will suddenly become a microcosm of frisbee and fire-and-brimstone preachers telling me I’ll go to hell for not believing in God, when in actuality there’s much more interesting reasons why I’ll be going to hell. I’m also looking forward to seeing how many fliers I can throw away on the Quad this year!

However.

It all feels very bittersweet. I am possessive and protective of my Champaign-Urbana summer. I’ve grown accustomed to warm, quiet nights, a small and steady group of (mostly) sober regulars, and more importantly, the Murphy’s summer logo special. And come Thursday, freshmen move-in day, all that will end. The nights will be filled with the smell of ice bombs and vomit, and the sounds of shrieking sorority girls, booming bro-hams, and freshmen making mistakes. And all those friends I’ve created unique bonds with (spending a summer in Champaign is kind of like being in a war together, except for the fact that it’s absolutely nothing like war)? I’m gonna have to share them now. AND DAMMIT, I WANT $2 BLUE MOONS EVERYDAY, NOT JUST THURSDAY NIGHTS, AND I DON’T WANT TO WAIT IN LINE!

And as for the freshmen. Well. I think my friend Charlie put it best when he said, “Fuck, I’m gonna have to make friends with freshmen this year? GODDAMIT!” I’m currently playing a game of life limbo, and these incoming freshmen are 12-year old Chinese Olympic gymnasts — I’ll automatically feel defeated, and want to dispute their legitimacy to be here. I’m old balls (aka, an “alum”) so I don’t feel the obligation like I did this time last year to show the youngsters the ropes and take them under my wing. I am more inclined to sit in the wings and observe their hedonistic tailspins into adulthood, while quietly sipping on whiskey, and letting the string of smoke from my cigarette drift over my face as I make cynical, cryptic remarks and dark techno music plays in background. I don’t actually smoke, but I will still hold a lit cigarette as a prop in order to adequately create this image. And someone find me some dark techno music, quick!

At the very least, the freshmen influx will serve as a reminder to all of us jaded alums and upperclassmen of the inherent possibility and opportunity that surrounds us. And that Station sucks. A lot. Like, a lot a lot. Seriously, don’t go there.

But I look forward to rekindling friendships that were put on ice for the summer, feeling the energy of a campus bursting at the seams (not including the freshmen 15), and seeing how the future molds us. I’ll get used to the hustle and bustle quicker than it takes a freshman to wake up in someone’s else bed and remember the name of the person next to them.

Or I might not even live here, and not have to deal with any of that shit. Please life, get figured out soon.

It’s the end of the summer. And hopefully, the beginning of many other things.

Get ready.

This picture is metaphorical not only for the sudden influx of freshmen, but also for fun mistakes they might make!

Mary Zemaitis: I enjoy comedy. And entendres. Sometimes, Triple Entendres.