May 12th, 2002. Sunday
 

    Right now, I am drinking a Zima.  Yes, a Zima.  Something I have not had since freshman or sophmore year in college.  Even then, it was not cool.  And I was mocked.  For some reason, when I was in the deli the other night, buying some advil and a single bottle of beer, I felt compelled to buy a Zima.  It was probably their commercials.  They're making a concerted effort against the new trendy "ice" drinks like Smirfnoff Ice and the Skyy drink.  And you know what, I don't care what anyone says, Zima is a damn refreshing drink.  Though I will admit, when I was opening it, I couldn't believe it wasn't a twist bottle.  It seems like the kind of thing that should have a twist top.  Anyway, before drinking, I was wondering where the taste would take me to,  I'm very sensitive to tastes and smells, in the nostalgia aspect.  Smells and tastes always remind me of places.  Especially when I haven't experienced them for a while.  And when I took the first sip, the first place I thought of was Dan's dorm room in Graham-Lees dormitory, at Washington and Lee, my residence from 1994-1995.  Living the sheltered suburban life I did, Dan's room was the messiest, dirtiest place I'd experienced with regularlity up to that point.  The thing you had to remember in Dan's room was, if an open beverage container went untouched for ten minutes, the chances were pretty good that it would wind up an ashtray.  So you always had to keep your eyes open.  Anyway, that was where we pretty much hung out and drank in the dorms. His room was right next to Jed's and across the hall from mine.  Anyway, this messiness, as well as the open beverage container policy, would play a large role for the next few years, culminating in the notorious occupation of the SHOE.  But at the time, it all seemed so innocent.   Thinking about it now, I'm very nostalgic for those days.  And that room and the weird things that went on in it.  Other alcohol related events-  large amouns of Southern Comfort consumed by me, which lead to the discovery that Mountain Dew makes a very poor mixer with Southern Comfort; Dan trying to hide the fact that an entire handle of Jack Daniels broke in his room when the RA came knocking; and of course the many discarded PBR cans and plastic cup filled with mystery liquids and cigarette butts. How I miss it all so much.  

Weekend recap on Monday...

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