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How to beat the Blues

Friday, 6:45 A.M. Place: my dorm room. My alarm is set for 8:00 A.M., the latest I can wake up without being late to class. Despite 8:00 being a long way off, I’m vaguely aware that it’s morning. I’m trying to get back to sleep because I’m going to leave for spring break in the afternoon. But the world has other plans.

A flash.

No. It can’t…

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Ugh. Get out of bed. Remember the keys this time. Put on my sandals… but they’re already packed. I put on my tennis shoes without socks because I don’t have time to put on socks. Follow everyone down the stairs and outside. Ah dang, it’s cold. And now we wait.

I asked the RA, who was trying to keep warm by draping herself in a blanket, if it was a drill. I was pretty sure they wouldn’t have a fire drill before most people were awake, and she said she hadn’t heard about it, so it was probably a legitimate incident.

I was lucky last semester when a 7 A.M. fire alarm woke up almost everyone—I had just left for my dreaded first-period physics lab, and I wouldn’t have even known about it if everyone hadn’t complained about it for a week. That was the only time I was ever grateful to have a first-period physics lab. But this time, I wasn’t so lucky.

After about a half an hour, we were allowed back into the building, and I went back to bed and tried to sleep until my alarm went off. The day continued as usual, except I may have ducked out of my later, more boring classes early? That’s for you, the reader, to conclude. I got home in the evening.

So finally, I was home in South Florida with warm weather and my friends nearby. Yesterday my friend Nick invited me to a hockey game. Kind of an unusual thing, I guess, considering I’ve never been to one. (Unbelievably astute readers will remember that I won tickets to a hockey game in my freshman year of high school but gave them away.) But our friend Carly had two extra tickets, so we were invited. I had consciously chosen not to pack my sweaters, thinking I wouldn’t need them. And now I’d be going to a hockey game. Luckily, I had an old sweater at home.

Also, we had box seats. Pretty sweet, I know, but it wasn’t the first time. I am pretty sure we had box seats when I went to see the Dalai Lama at this same venue. Yeah, very strange, but apparently he was doing a tour. But yeah, box seats are great because they have free food in them, viz. Caesar salad, chicken wings, various pizzas, cookies, brownies, soda, and beer (for those over the age of 21 in our puritanical society).

To be sure, the game was exciting too. The Florida Panthers took on the St. Louis Blues. I didn’t know any of the players, but the Panthers had this guy named Booth who was supposed to be good. Whenever he had the puck, the fans would yell his name, which is an unfortunate name to have if you’re a sports star whose fans shout your name. There were a lot of theatrics in the form of music, fog machines, and whatnot. The Panthers won 5-3.

Also, did you know that hockey teams have cheerleaders? The Panthers do, anyway. During the third period, a couple of them visited our booth to pose for pictures and sell Panthers cheerleader calendars. If I had had more than a dollar on me, I would have helped give financial support to those young women. But Nick and I had the satisfaction of having our picture taken with them.

Today we went to the beach. It was fun.

A Virgin Airlines passenger writes a letter to Richard Branson about the quality (and nature) of the food on his flight. Is it the world’s best passenger complaint letter? I don’t know, but I’m going to be flying with Virgin in June. I hope I don’t get hungry. (Via All About Me – And Then Some)