House Partay

There are many rights of passage in our culture. When a boy discovers cooties, when a girl gets her first visit from Aunt Flo, when a boy gets in a car accident while going to pick his brother up at work, when a girl find the boy she wants to trick into marrying her. All of these are solemn occasions in America.

Another right of passage is the purchase (by legal or other means) of a place of residence without the aid of an “adult.” To paraphrase this, buying a college house. This is what Jeff, Carl, Brandon and I are going to be doing, hopefully. The thing is, that with a house come rules.

When it was decided (through careful consideration) that Carl and Jeff (and later Brandon) would be rule makers, it was also realized that I was the only one left. And so Carl, Jeff (and later Brandon) made a nifty list of things I am allowed to do and things that I am not allowed to do and things that I must ask permission to do.

This list came about when Carl would say, “Hey, Jeff. Miles is not around. Shall we have an important House Meeting?” and Jeff would say, “What?” and Carl would say, “Great!” Then they would basically assign all the fun things to them and all the painful things to me. Check out the lists they sent me by email (they won’t even TELL me the lists).

List A (things allowed):

• Breathing, limited to moderate or shallow breaths
• Eating what is preapproved by the board (Carl)
• Drinking what is preapproved by the committee (Jeff)
• Doing whatever the board or committee or the democracy (Carl, Jeff, and Brandon) decide

List B (things not allowed):

• Everything, pretty much

Carl seems to come up with things on the fly that he thinks will become rules. He’s nice that way, to give me the heads up. Like:

• Miles shalt carry either Carl or Jeff or Brandon up steps or steep embankments upon request.
• Miles shalt chew either Carl or Jeff or Brandon’s food upon request.
• Miles shalt mow the lawn. End of discussion.
• Miles shalt *** **** ** ****** **** ** **** ** ******** **** *******. (damn * key got stuck)

Without Carl, I’d be breaking those rules a lot because I wouldn’t know that I’m supposed to do it. Thanks Carl!

I guess when I look back at it, I’m pretty lucky. I look at it this way, at least I can listen to “Peanut Butter Jelly Time” at 3 in the morning. Oh, new email.

Oh, great.

Maybe it’ll have to be [ this ].