Some Things Never Change

I don’t remember if I ever wrote about the time my roommate, Lindsay, and I drove down a blocked road under construction in the middle of the night during our junior year of college right after we stole a whole plate full of brownies from the Dining Commons. I probably didn’t write about it because to this day my parents still do not know that is how my car got scratched up in the front. But, it is too good of a story to not share with others:

It was a Friday night in November and my three roommates and I were getting ready to go to one of our friend’s birthday parties. Megan and Emily made themselves dinner in our apartment and Lindsay and I decided to go to the DC on campus to eat. While we were eating, we kept eyeing the dessert table. When we were all freshmen we would rally as a group and walk out of the DC with one of the platters of homemade desserts and bring them back to the dorm. This was a job well done because the people working at the DC were usually strict and enjoyed embarrassing you and made you pay extra if you took food out of the DC (I kid you not my friends and I still had one of the DC’s platters in our apartment cupboards this past year). Well, on that particular Friday, Lindsay and I thought it would be a nice touch to take one of the brownie platters and bring them with us that night…I mean, after all, we were going to a birthday party. Besides, we thought it would be pretty awesome to be able to tell people that the two of us alone stole a platter of brownies while the scariest DC worker was there.

So, we quickly mapped out a plan, grabbed the plate of brownies and walked out of the DC casually while tables of freshmen stared at us wondering if they should go tell someone what we were doing. Once we got outside, we ran for dear life to my car. We were laughing and joking about how this night was already promising to be good.

We drove off of campus to meet our friends at Katie’s house for her birthday party. Lindsay called our other roommates to get clear directions, but neither Lindsay or myself really knew where we were headed. What do you do when that happens? Just guess. So, we drove down the dark and bumpy streets of Huntington trying to find State Street (if you know Huntington, you know the roads are crooked, bumpy, and broken). We got to Division Street where we thought we were supposed to turn. Blocking Division Street were two “Road Closed” signs with one gap big enough for my car in between the two. Behind the signs was this street with gaping holes and cones and big metal things sticking up from the ground making it nearly (and I say nearly because of what I am about to tell you next) impossible to drive down.

I don’t know why we did it or what made us think we could do it. Maybe it was the adrenaline rush from the brownie incident, but without any hesitation, we decided to squeeze through the “Road Closed” signs and navigate through the broken down street. Right after my car got through the signs, there was this giant cement block we failed to notice earlier. I went over it and then looked at how long and awful this road looked. “Uhh….Lindsay? I really hope there aren’t any cops around.”

Navigating through that street made me feel like I was playing Mario Cart or something and my car and I were one of the characters. It was terrible scary. Lindsay kept saying things like, “We are almost to the end, keep going, you can do it.” Finally, the end of the road came, but there was another even larger cement block I would have to go over head first. This would surely do some damage. Then Lindsay said, “Oh…I think we now know exactly why this road was closed.”

Right then and there two cop cars pulled out of the Dairy Queen with their lights on. Panic. I’m not going to lie to you here, but a part of me thought about running. Then Lindsay and I in utter nervousness wondered if we should just hit the cement block and try to go forward or try to back ourselves up out of the road and escape. Too late. We were in trouble.

The cop asked what we were up to and Lindsay and I explained that we got lost and were trying to find our friend’s house. He took my license, was gone for what seemed like hours at his car, came back and laughed and said he would just let us go and that he thinks we learned our lesson. He even helped us drive over the giant cement block.

Lindsay and I were scared out of our minds, but it was probably one of the dumbest and funniest times of that year.

Just two weekends ago I really realized that some things just don’t really change. I once heard that you know who your forever friends are when after years have gone by you are still making new memories and not just sitting around remembering the old ones. My friends and I have had some really, really great times in the past. I was always nervous that after college that would be it. Instead I have found, that with these people it is so far from ‘it.’ The times just keep on getting better and better and new memories pile on top of the old ones.

After a two nights of frozen yogurt, strange conversations and shopping, two Sundays ago a bunch of us decided to go to the Pioneer Festival in Huntington. It was a chilly and rainy day, definitely not ideal for an old fashioned festival. Lindsay and I (much like the incident two years ago) rode together to meet our other friends at the festival. On our way there, Lindsay made a wrong turn several times. One of the times we were turning around we did so in a creepy looking driveway with a sign that said ‘No Trespassing.’ But, I think you know by now that signs mean nothing to Lindsay and I. Of course, there was a scary man in the barn who came out and gave us a look that made us crouch as low as we could in our seats and speed off in the right direction. Then, when we got to the festival, we parked in a no parking zone and after the festival could not find her car until 15 minutes later. Oops.

But during that ride and the couple hours spent drinking cider, petting gross camels and singing along with an old man playing the ukulele, I think we all laughed so hard we couldn’t breathe. This was not the first time these last few months that has happened, but during that day spent in a muddy park walking around people dressed up like pioneers with some of my best friends in the world, I realized that some things never change: we are still crazy and we are still making great memories.

(And, I know you are all dying to hear about this past weekend...don't worry I will post again soon!)