Memory Lane.

13 May

I make a lot of jokes on this page. I make up a lot of whimsical yarns about a man (myself) that does incredible, earth-shattering things. But really, I’m just a regular guy– I’m just like you (if you had a bounty of god-given talent, good looks, and piles of money in your closet).

In honor of how normal I am, this entry is completely, 100%, true.

Here’s a true story about me in my music appreciation class freshman year.

Background info:

Attire: I’m a freshman, so of course, I’m the coolest guy in the room. I have long, curly hair, a headband, brown Pearl Jam t-shirt and torn jeans. I am wearing no shoes.

About like this.

About like this.

Setting: I’m in a large room with extremely high ceilings. This room was built to house music classes, so the acoustics are fantastic. I’m surrounded on all sides by people. There are roughly 40 people in my class. At the front of the room is the professor, a lovely, curly-headed woman that reminds me strangely of Arnold from The Magic School Bus.

We’re listening to audio samples of various composers: Bach, Mozart, Schumann, Brahms, the works. The room is cool. There’s a door on the east wall of the room that’s open to the outdoors, letting in a subtle breeze. At this point in my freshman adventure, I’d given up the idea of ever going to bed before 2 am (I can still remember at one point thinking how awesome it would be to get to bed at 1 am). The previous night, I was up until 2 or 3 am and woke up at around 8 the next morning. I’m tired as hell. I have all early morning classes, because I’m still under the idea (propagated by UNT staff at orientation) that morning classes were a great way to get the most out of my day, to get my classes “out of the way early.”

Anyway, Ι’m sitting int his class and…hold on a second. I think I just realized something. Pretty much since freshman year, all my friends and I have tried at all costs to avoid early classes. All the UNT orientation staff were upper classmen…who hated morning classes…and every one of them told me to take morning classes. So if they wanted to ensure that some freshman wasn’t going to take their seat in the 2:00 poli sci class, they needed to be sure he took it in the morning.  Shit. I was conned by those I trusted to guide me. So hurt. I however appreciate my 2:00 classes, so I will in no way attempt to change this situation.

Back to the action.

So, I’m sitting in this class, slouching (in order to really give off that ‘aloof genius’ look) with my arms crossed (because I’m also vulnerable, and it’s the closest thing I can do to hugging myself in public). The music is quiet and soothing, with little or no talking between samples. I’m incredibly comfortable and incredibly tired. All that stuff I mentioned before, the cool room, the breeze, the lack of sleep, the music, it’s all created a “perfect storm” for dozing off. As I lean back, I feel myself drifting in and out of sleep. My head starts to nod forward or back, then I wake up and it’s jerked upright. This is uncomfortable to my neck, and you’d think comical to those around me, but after a couple of these classes, this spectacle seems as natural as somebody taking notes.

I keep slipping into sleep, beginning to dream for a few seconds, then shaking myself out of it and trying to pay attention again. It felt like I was dreaming every time I closed my eyes. The last time, I close my eyes and dream I’m in bed, so I stop fighting it, thinking now it’s ok to go to sleep because, well, I’m in bed. Blissful. A few seconds into my sleep I feel a kind of bubbling in my stomach, like air trying to escape. But hey, what the hell? I’m in bed. I’ll just take care of it here and now. So, while still asleep, I lean over slightly and let out a huge, echoing fart. It’s so loud it wakes me up. I open my eyes and look around, completely embarrassed. I try to play it off and just look straight forward, but it’s no use. The girl next to me is looking directly at me, and when I make eye contact she immediately averts her gaze. Oh yea, she heard it. Everybody heard it, and I could tell with absolute certainty when every single person glared at me as they left the room.

Shortly after that I deficated in the Music Building bathroom and took a nap on some grass outside. All in all, a pretty good day.

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One Response to “Memory Lane.”

  1. John Mayer May 13, 2009 at 9:03 am #

    Another great post from my best bud, Kyle Irion!

    Hey Kyle, fly to LA this weekend and let’s hang out.

    Corey

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