Of Miles Rausch

I hadn’t been in college more than a week and I already needed a new roommate. I had the choice of staying in my room (and quite possibly getting a football player for a roommate) or I could ask one of the other two single rooms if they would be my neighbor. Well, roommate. So, like a live in neighbor. And all his stuff is in your room, I guess.

Anyway, the choice was clear. I had to figure out which of these two guys to pick. One was Don Krell (who, to this day, I haven’t had a conversation with) and the other was Adam Hafner. Well, Carl made up my mind for me. “Room with Hafner. He’s cool; he’s from Mitchell.”
I didn’t know Carl that well back then. But I followed his advice.

This was how I met Adam Hafner. A huggable, lovable LOL type of guy, Adam is amicable almost to a fault. He pats you on the back, shakes your hand, meses your hair, and calls you “Little Buddy.”

The first night, we lay on our back staring up at the stars (about 150 of them, glow in the dark, taped to our ceiling) and we talked for hours. It was obvious that this was the start of a solid friendship.

Now, though, Adam has, in light of certain events, become an RA on our floor. So he is moving all the way down the hall. For this reason I am writing this touching, funny, heartfelt goodbye to Adam. I mean, he’s not dying , but he’s going to be way way down the hall.
Plus, after he reads this, he’ll have to walk way way down to my room to give me a hug.

I am so evil, but here goes.

Hey, Adam, remember that time when you came back home and I had that Budweiser sign up?
Oh, wait, that would be you.

Remember that time I tripped walking up the stairs?
No, that was you, too.

Remember how everyone would come into the room and scare me and take my stuff?
… you again.

Remember that time I was driving us to Pamida, and I was trying to remember what the title of the song was on the radio and I almost killed us by driving into the back of another vehicle?
Scary as hell, but that was still you.

Man, looks like my memories are confused. How about these.

Remember how Collin would always come into the room and play your guitar and I’d get all pissed and I finally got you to ask him to play in his room?
Oh wait – that was you wasn’t it.

Well how about all those times I asked you to play the keyboard song, which you wrote on a whim, but seems to be your most popular song?
No no no. That was all you.

How about when, last year, you’d have class, then I’d have class, and we were always on opposite schedules? And I’d always come back when you were in the room, and I’d think it was locked, so I’d actually end up locking you in the room and me out of it. Then I’d try to door and it’d be locked and I’d kinda fall into it. Then I’d swear, “Goddamn sons of bitches” and I’d have to unlock the door, and I’d come in and you’d be laughing your head off, and I’d get that grin on my face, and turn red, and say, “Shuddup” without any ‘t’s in it.
Oh. That was DEFINATELY you.

Ok. I will try one more time. I just had two AWESOME strawberry Fantas (Erin) And I’ll see if I can’t get it right this time.

Remember that time we all went to Pizza Ranch but all the guys kept calling my little sister “Girl Rausch,” and I was getting really pissed, so after we got done eating, you and I ran to the car and left Carl, Jeff, and Collin at Pizza Ranch to walk?
Well, Girl Rausch doesn’t sound as good as Girl Hafner. I must have that wrong.

Remember that time I was in bed, and it was morning, so I got out of bed, and to steady myself I used the towel holder to steady myself, and it gave and I fell and I popped back up and said, “I’m allright” ?
… ok, that was me.

But at least I can say that you’ll be missing one of the best buds you’ve ever spent 3 semesters sharing the same room.
Oh, wait. I guess that would be me, too.

Blink Blink Blink

Guess what? New emoticons!! Jeff and I painstakingly associated, bit by bit, emoticon to text so that we can have moving ones (I was very animate about this) and so that you can have more.

I also have many many hidden emoticons. In fact, there are 22 out of 29, which means that there are 7 hidden ones for my own usages.

Ones like : :spidey: , :wow: , and :poke: .

Jeff and I also discovered something very very very very very nice about this new setup. Look at this :

Oooo man, that’s funny.

My monday sucked. Tuesday ended horribly. Wednesday was sad. Thursday isn’t over.

Once again, walk with my as I recount my day (from this Thursday night’s perspective) in chronologically forted stylistics.

What?

Anyway…

I woke up at 1015, and I was pissed. I have nothing against 1015, except that it makes me fifeteen minutes late for Assembly Language. That class seems to be my biggest problem with this semester. And that’s only because I keep missing it.

Bad start. I didn’t feel good. I spent all of Sunday night, and an obscene amount of Monday morning doing homework. Assembly language, actually. Oh, right, and I was studying for a Math test. Just the thing I wanted to do.

I felt like crying. In fact, I did all day. My eyes burned, I couldn’t look up, and I felt like dying. So. I made a decision.

I walked to Assembly with my printed assignment, and I then wrote Tom a note. I spelled out how bad my day was (already) and how I had worked and worked on the program, and was sure that it worked, just not sure why it didn’t for me. I would later figure out that the problem was NOT my program, but other elements in the equation.

I walked around head down to get something quick to eat, then I came back up to the room, showered, ate, and studied for Math. I decided now would be a good time to start reading up for my essay rough draft, which was technically due on Monday (that day) but was not expected until Wednesday (for all intensive purposes.)

So, I trotted off the Math. I was on time this day (I’m usually late), but why, I asked myself? I took the test, which was not as bad as it could have been, and I got to leave early, which was not as good as it could have been. I had fifteen minutes before my next class. Where did I go? I went to that bathroom on the second floor of East Hall (the one I talked about in that “relativity” post) and I just stood there. Coat, bag, all, again. I just stood there and waited. I hated this day.

I went to my class, where I played Bejeweled the whole time, kept my head down, and urged the day along. The rest of it played well. No large speed bumps. Most people did note my unusually depressed self, but I told them that I would be better later, not sure if I would.

Then the play. You can’t act when you’re depressed. I had to cheer up, and so I did on the way up. I was still dampered, but I was in a good condition to perform. And so I did. I said the same lines I have so many times; I made all the guestures I’ve made time and time again; and I acted as I know how to do.

Guess who was there? Alicia. So, after those dumb pictures (“Miles, you can only take three pictures, Miles. Miles!”) I took Alicia back to my place and me … uh… talked to Adam. She wrote on my wipeoff board, signed the loft, and then (after some confusion) we walked out to her car, where we … uh… came back in the building. She hadn’t met Jeff!

So, we went up to Jeff’s room where we …uh… talked to Jeff. We talked music and stuff, and then Alicia swore (which shocked me) and then she swore some more. It was crazy. Finally I walked her to her car. We said goodbye, and she drove off.

Well, everyone who met her (and some people, like Adam, who had already met her) were asking who that hottt chick was that I was showing around. And then Adam says, “Hey Miles. Why don’t you tap that?” And to tell you the truth, I don’t have a good reason.

It makes me wonder…

Then I did homework until 330 am.

I woke up way before my first class. I felt a lot better. Sleep does much to your outlook on things. It tends to brighten mine. I attacked the day with vigor.

I don’t remember what happened during the day.

Then the play happened, and we got the worst audience ever. Ugh they make me so mad! (for you, Jamie) But seriously, the only good thing to come out of it was that I became part of a three person … person named “Rethleb” which involves Me, Heather, and Rob. We are three equal persons (not unlike the trinity) though we don’t have any special powers (like the trinity) and Rob gets TWO letters of the name, which isn’t at all fair.

I then went home and worked on homework until 330 am again.

I made it to ASM today! Hoooo man was I stoked! Then I made it to all my other classes! Not much happened today. At least, not much comes to mind. The final night of the play.

We had the play, and we had the best audience ever. I couldn’t believe it. They laughed at everything. I had to bounce for practially 20 minutes to make space for the laugh lines. It was great. This energy was surging through me. I LOVE THAT FEELING. That’s why I act. When the script, actor, and audience all come together. Both skits garnered piles of laughs, which I hope to trade in for a cool pen flashlight. No, not really.

They don’t have those anymore. I’ll get a green Alien eraser.

I got a number of compliments from people saying that they thought my skit was the funniest and that I was the “best actor up there.” I’m serious! I don’t know what to say to that. What do you say? I say, “Well, thank you” and try to bear the awkward silence. I would normally have a witty saying to it, but I can’t think of anything. These people just rob me. I would love to say back to them something corney like, “Well, you know, it was the synergy of the whole group. I got to work with some really talented and funny people and it’s an experience that I will treasure for the rest of my life” but they’re usually gone by then.

Alas. The day ended on a sad note. As Jamie gave me a ride home, I reflected. This play marks the end of a lot of things. Some of these people I am never going to see again. Jamie, Heather, Amanda. It makes me sad. I like these people! Others, I might see but never get a chance to hang out with. How is THAT fair? You spend so much time with these people, that they become a family.

I didn’t cry, but I felt meloncholy. I hoped, deep down, that I was just being dramatic.

Almost up to speed. Today went well. I went to SAD, and everyone else in the group showed up, too. Wonderful.

Mike had this program on his VIAO (is that right??) where you basically run this skier into things because it’s funny and he’s violently thrown about. Kinda like another program I discovered today: Porrasturvat. It was written in ASM, which is cool and at the same time depressing, and you basically throw a guy down a flight of steps.

There is this badly conceived and convoluted story about WHY you do this, but it doesn’t hold up. It’s funny (in a sick way) to watch his body fly down the steps. OH, and you get points for this.

I had a Flash final, which I didn’t get all the way finished with. Oh well. I’m hoping the cool things I tried to get done shine over the simple things he asked for and that I couldn’t complete. I tried.

Before that, however, Jeff and I went to see Bob (Jackson) who had a copy of my snow speech (finally!) and also has his “Buffy: The Vampire Slayer” poster hidden behind his door for fear of ridicule. At least that’s what he told us. We had a nice chat before going to Flash.

After flash, I had a SAD meeting in Val’s room. We got a lot done, but I got nothing done. I was shelled out. Useless and space absorbing.

When I got back, I went down to return Mandy’s nail polish that I borrowed. No one was in their room, so I gave it to Erin to give to Mandy. Then Erin and I talked for a very long time. It was a nice chat. I enjoyed it.

Then I went to the Drama Club meeting. Actually, I was late. Actually, they cancelled the meeting but we hung out until 815 (officially the meeting cancellation time), but Bob (Davison) and I talked until 930. Then I came here.

And I worked on some stuff before settling down to write this. So this is all I’m going to type so that Jill can go to bed.

Jeff and I broke up tonight.

I think I’m going to be okay, though. Thanks.

But we’re still friends. He gave me back my copy of Gone With the Wind and he also gave back unto me my “Hoes ‘n Pimps” mix tape. I gave him back his Letterman’s jacket and class ring. But Jeff still has one thing of mine: my heart.

Oh cruel fate! What’s the deal?

Maybe one day our love will again spray forth like the tangerine scent that spouts from my Tangerine Ginger Potpourri air freshener.

Plus, Jeff does drugs.

And this is not just a way to make up for missing a post day.

I’ve had quite a few occurrences these couple days that have had me coming back to this idea(l). Why? Well, maybe if I prattle on, I will stumble into the harsh, blinding, white light of realization and truth. Let’s traverse chronologically.

As I was walking back from play practice, I had a thought. (Sarcastic comments aside) Back when I was in third grade, our teacher, Sr. Jane, would read to us. Her series of choice was by the author Laura Engalls Wilder entitled Little House on the Prairie. Everyday she would read for 30 minutes. I recall one chapter in which a sudden frost had hit the little farm. Laura’s father had gone out to check on the livestock and discovered that all the cows had their mouths frozen to the ground. Now, being a “city” boy, this is by all means possible to me, cows being dumb as they are. If it isn’t, then maybe I remember this
passage incorrectly, but as it stands: here we sit.
Sr. Jane read Laura’s aged words aloud to us. Then she paused. She had said, “Pa went out to the cows and … he did something I couldn’t see.” Something with that sentence didn’t add up for me. My tiny 3rd grade mind sensed something awry. I always had this feeling that our teacher was hiding something from us. Then last night I figured it out: urine. That’s what Pa used to free
the cows. And Sr. Jane censored that for us. She was protecting us and maybe herself from something that was sure to cause uproar in the classroom. But its relative. Nowadays I think, that’s a good idea, in pioneer America. Yesterdays I think, that’s gross!

It’s all relative

Time and Location : relative. You cannot expect some one to stand still. Sorry to break it to you, parents and teachers, but little kids cannot stand still. Neither can adults or wolverines or dirt or tangerines. If you slow time down, sure, we’re really still – deathly still. If you take the point of view of a hummingbird, kids are slow as glaciers. If you speed time up, kids can never stand still. If
you take the point of view of a glaciers, kids are quick as hummingbirds. Awww, nature.

It’s all relative

I took some drugs. Antihistamines, that is. No matter what sort of anti-histamine I take (drowsy or non) I get drowsy. Terribly drowsy, and so it is today. Math let out early, so as I was waiting for my next class. I decided to go to the bathroom.
Ok – calm down. I know what your thinking. Here I am talking about it’s all relative and I start talking about a bathroom visit. Listen, sicko, just hold on. I felt the drugs kicking in. It made me feel everything and nothing all at once. You know how it is – you can feel your heart slow down. I just felt like standing, near comatose, so I walked to the handicapped stall to do it (barring
any derisive comments thence). So, there I stood with my jacket on, my book bag on one shoulder, and I stared at the door handle of the stall.
The handle is metal. shaped like a wide “u” glued to the wall, I couldn’t look away. I stared at the corner, where my reflection stood. I saw myself, only a foot away in real life, looking 300 yards away, and I felt offended. I don’t look that way. I’m no that far away. You, sir Handle, are mis-representing me. But then I again realized –

It’s all relative

I DO look like that. In that metal curve, at this moment, this time, I look like that. It’s quite a lesson.

As if I needed further weirdness, Laffey all but said

“It’s all relative”

in class today. I was, for all intensive purposes, just a little freaked.

You know, though, the same goes for love. (Oh, look how he brought it around to girls). My dad is a flirt. He puts his arm around women and gives back rubs, that sort of “Casanova” stuff. My mother is the opposite. She’ not very physically expressive. So a hug from my mom is almost more valuable than a hug from my dad. Or Jeff. (I try to work Jeff into my posts somehow)
I am like my dad, but I’m more .. scared? It’s an n odd mixture of my father’s out going ways and my mother’s fear of physical rejection (you reading this Mom?). It can tear you apart. So, I’m timid. I touch when I’m comfortable. And as for being comfortable;

It’s all relative

In church, the moment that causes me the most anxiety is the sharing of peace. At this part of church we turn and shake hands (or hug) people around us and say , “Peace be with you.” A menagerie (for you Bro) of physical requests, and physical acceptance and rejection. You can’t know how uncomfortable it makes me. Its crazy! Why? It’s just a hand shake! But, hey,

It’s all relative

But I’m not alone. When we say the our father, we hold hands. So many people don’t – they stand stone-faced with their hands at their sides or in their pockets. Are they afraid of touch like me?
Are they always like this or

Is it relative?