He’s Here, He’s Gay, Get Used to It: Senior Year, Here We Come

Hey friends!

‘sup, peasants? It’s been a while. Literally over a month. I guess life and my demanding internship and the other half of my job (running the incoming first-year Facebook page) got to me and I haven’t had the time to write. But I’m here now and it’s past 1am on September 2nd, 2014 and I am blessed to be here and you are blessed to be reading this because it means you either have a smartphone or a computer and basic literacy skills.

Well, where am I?

SKIDMORE. *winks.*

But let’s rewind a heckin’ bit, okurr? My last post was July 25th, which is when I was at home from Abroad (I was in ENGLAND ¬†#godsavethequeen) and working at the Bushwick Starr, a theatre started by Skid alum. It’s in Brooklyn, in Bushwick, on Starr St. How appropriate. I was a minion there for the summer, and it was insanely rewarding.

Then I came up here on August 22nd, to start to prep for Orientation week! I was the volunteer coordinator this year, which essentially means I got to walk around with heart-shaped sunglasses on holding a clipboard looking fabulous.

Being up here in the summer, or at least the late part of the summer is odd. No one’s really around at the end of the summer after summer classes end, so it’s like that thing where if a tree falls in the forest does it make a sound except with me it’s more like if a gay screams across the quad and there’s no one around to cringe do I really even make a sound? I jest, I jest. It was actually pretty nice getting up here early and getting to set up my room and not have to stress out about moving in and watching the slow trickle arrival of my friends and fiends was also thrilling and slightly overwhelming.

On move-in day, as I mentioned, I was all clipboard and business and terminally delightful. A smile on my face, a spring in my step, and a Vera Bradley headscarf holding my hair back. I had a blast on both move-in days, for Pre-Or and regular move-in days.

Pre-Or and Orientation are always a weird time for me,¬†because I’ve never ben formally involved with the process, as a peer mentor or as a pre-or advisor, so it’s like once everyone gets to where they need to be and campus gets quiet again, what’s Kevin to do? Cry, usually. Cry.

This year was a blast though. The peer mentors kind of let me in to their group, and I’ve befriended a lot of them. This is the year where I make more friends. I promise.

On Sunday night, we went to the Ice Cream Social, an event/dance party for the first years. I obviously danced until I lost all feeling in my legs. I had the opportunity to dance with Rochelle Calhoun, the Dean of Student Affairs, literally two queens dancing with each other. And then the end of the night got weird and I did a dance solo to Bulletproof by La Roux, using the entire Spa (first floor of Case Center) as my stage. I mean, normally the entire world is my stage, but last night, the stage was just the Spa and I owned it. It’s on my Facebook. It’s real.

My living situation this year is amazing. I’m living in Sussman K9 (woof woof) with three of the best gals in my grade and our house is GORGEOUS. It’s like a ski chalet. Downstairs is a kitchen/living room/lounge/performance space and two of the bedrooms with a bathroom. Upstairs is my room, another bedroom, and a bathroom, which I’ve decorated with One Direction wall decals, obviously. It’s so great and I’m looking forward to calling this home for the year. #BlessThisNest.

Well, I guess that’s that.

This week, classes start, theatre auditions happen, and the first-years start to make it through the night without waking up crying. #HomesickBabies. Just kidding. Skidmore is their home, they’ll quickly realize. I did, three years ago. And look at me now.

I’ve never been happier.

Let’s do this, senior year.

 

Measure in Love,

Kev

About Kevin Berry

jamba juice. mennonite. enneagram.
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