Hi friends,


It’s Thursday night/Friday morning. It’s nearly 1:15am. I couldn’t sleep, so what did I decide to do but log on to the good ole cyberspaceinterwebz and write a neat little blog post for y’all.


Since Tuesday, it has gotten chillier and I have descended deeper into my fiendish love for coffee and I went to a Yom Kippur break-fast dinner which was super tasty and I love latkes. And knishes. And the word “baruch.”


Yesterday we had off from classes because much of the Jewish population of the school was on yontif. So I wrote a paper and cried a little bit and drank some coffee and wrote a bit of my new play, Eden on the Long Island Sound. I sent some e-mails to some playwright friends of mine, I called my dad, texted my sister, called my grandparents, the whole nine yards. I watched an episode of The New Normal, which I’m still forming an opinion on. I think it’s kind of tasteless and stereotypical towards gays and every other minority, but it might be good and I love Ellen Barkin to death because she’s incredibly fierce as an actress. Anyways.


Today, I handed in my paper and in class we watched a documentary called The History of the Joke. I and the professor were the only ones laughing, and occasionally a junior/senior/not sure which would chime in as well with a giggle or a chuckle. The class is an American Studies class that looks at American Culture through the eye of the stand-up comic. There are no pre-reqs for the class, since it’s an intro level course. But there should be one: A good sense of humor. When kids in the class try and make jokes to impress the professor, who was a stand up comedienne in her day, even the crickets stop chirping. It’s awkward at times. But I like it. So the documentary was funny and Robin Williams is a genius (S0rry, Dad.).


After that, I told myself: “No lunch, Kevin, no lunch.” I cried some and then got coffee and then went to Theater and Culture where we had a rousing discussion about Pompeiian theater. After that, I moseyed on back to my room, and went to work out. Showered (TMI?) and then headed to dinner. I was pretty hungry by now and I had skipped lunch for a reason: CLAMBAKE.


Tonight was the first of several theme dinners in d-hall over the course of the school year. It’s free food for everyone. And tonight’s theme was Clambake. I don’t eat clams, so. But everything else was AMAZING. Special burgers, special corn, special potatoes, and the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth in d-hall: butternut squash with some sort of sauce. The sauce was made from marshmallows and I straight up died. CAUSE OF DEATH: DELICIOUSNESS. 


And then came the dessert, as if that wasn’t enough. Pumpkin bars. I don’t even know what it was but it was pumpkin. I love pumpkin. If Minny from The Help made me one of her “special” pumpkin pies, they’d be calling me Whole Pie Kevin because I wouldn’t just eat two slices, I would eat the whole thing. I love pumpkin. And they also had some delicious apple dessert, which I also had, but the name was in French, so I will just call it apples with raisins in the core. Delicious. At least there weren’t real apple seeds in the core because apple seeds are deadly because in them there is enough cyanide to kill you.


After dinner, I moseyed (a lot of moseying tonight) on over to Filene, where I went to an enlightening lecture entitled “I <3 the Female Orgasm.” It was lovely and enlightening. I don’t know if I liked it because it was SO SO SO SO SO scripted and the speakers were trying way too hard to be cool with the college kids. Also, it wasn’t just about the Big O, it was mainly about communication during sex, which is something that’s rather important, I think. It was fun and there were some good laughs. The gals in front of me were not enthused with the speakers. Like, talk about Grim Reapers coming to steal the smile out of my heart. When I saw how sad they were, I felt like I needed a chocolate bar because I felt like Sirius Black after having the Kiss performed on him by the Dementors.


After that, I came back to my room, did some work, sang Les Miserables, and Skyped with one of my best friends from home. Then, at the end of the finale of Les Miz, there was a severe silence. I turned my fan off and was getting ready for bed when suddenly a piercing whistle starts blaring. I cuss several times loudly and wander into the hall to see if anyone else was there. There wasn’t. Was I going crazy and hearing this whistle? Why wasn’t anyone reacting? Why did they have to cancel Lost? It was definitely a fire alarm. One by one, which is also a title of a song from The Lion King, my floormates began to wander into the hallway, because the alarm wasn’t as loud as normal. I called Campus Safety and they came and helped us out. I brushed my teeth and got into bed and unable to sleep, here we are. But I’m tired out now and it’s nearly 1:45 and I have class at 9:40.





Measure in Love,



About Kevin Berry

jamba juice. mennonite. enneagram.
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