Three Cheers for the Weekend - Cheer Number One

I just had my first real Oberlin weekend - that is, a weekend that did not include at least one night spent sitting in my room with Whitman gazing at our respective screens. (Although it might yet. We'll see.)

I'll summarize it chronologically, rather than, say, alphabetically, which would be a lot of work and not very enlightening for any of us. Therefore, Friday night:

The curtains open on me, in a fairly comfortable chair reading Jared Diamond; Sam, on the couch, reading some other, indubitably less prestigious book; and Whitman, in one of the lopsided wing chairs, staring pensively at nothing. He and I began a game of chess, but were interrupted by Brenna 2*, Kelly and the glimmer of a plan. We'll fast forward to the four of us (sans Sam, still studying) climbing up the stairs to the astronomy tower to take advantage of public stargazing night. We enjoyed ourselves immensely. As well as the dome telescope, trained on a ring nebula, there were four smaller scopes set up to view other celestialities. Once we'd seen everything, we stood on the edge of the deck and talked about fall break, and home, and homesickness.

We next headed to Slow Train for a performance by Isabel Roth and Friends. The highlights included two songs she wrote as a freshman: "Fearless," a reaction to the then-new admissions campaign; and one whose name I didn't catch, but included the lyrics:

"You are wonderful all of the time / but I just don' t have all of the time. / And if I'm honest with myself, it's probably / better for my health / if you and I take some time for ourselves."

Her upbeat, catchy tunes are still stuck in my head. Less pat, though, was The Hurt Locker, which we decided to watch in our room. The experience was a study in contrasts: four college students, cozily wrapped in fleece, then thick walls, then campus security. We are protected from war by borders and oceans and parents who love us. We sat on my bed and watched men die, silently, horribly, and did not move or speak except to arrange the blankets.

And then it was midnight so we turned the movie off. We got granola from the kitchen. Whitman and Brenna went off to bed, and Kelly and I did Midnight Crew, and I went to sleep and forgot all my dreams in the morning.

I woke up in a wonderful mood! I ambled around the internet, then downstairs to sniff out breakfast. After a few lazy hours I biked to Wilder to get a package of mine.

Well, that was the plan.

I went around back to one of our bike racks and my bike, Jeffrey, was gone.

Now, I always have to qualify that "my" right there, because Jeffrey isn't actually mine. It belongs to the bike co-op, and was supposed to be my temporary bike before they opened. I was going to rent a bike that was a few inches taller, and could brake in the rain. However, they were a little short of rentals this year, and so Jeffrey has just stayed mine. I'm sure I owe them hours for compensation. We'll work it out.

Anyway, that doesn't change how I felt: Jeffrey was gone, and I was devastated. I knew I should have locked it up. But I never did, and now it was gone, and it was awful. Whit let me borrow his bike and I cruised North Campus, searching for any sign of my beloved. I made it down to Wilder, the Student Union here, before picking up that package at the mailroom and heading back.

The package contained Virginia salted and chocolate-covered peanuts, which brightened my mood considerably. (Thanks mom! Made my morning!) I went out for one more round before giving up for the afternoon and giving Whitman back his bike. And I found him! (I mean, found it.) Jeffrey was in front of the dining hall, about fifty yards from Keep's back door. The thief - borrower? - had left my water bottle in the holder and neglected to use a lock, so I ran home tugging Whit's bike with one hand and mine with the other. 

"I promise to lock you all the time from now on," I told Jeffrey, loudly. Some passing girls didn't even look up. This is Oberlin, after all.