So let me tell y'all about one of the best nights ever. I laughed so much I surprised myself. If you know me even a little bit then you know that has got to be a hell of a lot of laughing.
I walked back from band and rushed into my dorm. In the hall there was a circle of giggling girls standing directly in my path. At first I was frustrated because, well hello, there was a group of giggling girls in my way and you know, people. So I tried to squeeze by the best I could when I realized there is a cat! Someone's mom brought their cat for everyone to pet! Ah! So, of course, I pet the kitty and continued on my way in totally the best mood. Just wait. It get's better.
Then it was time for a hall RA event: Wednesday Write Night. It was all planned out with a theme and everything (Bad Poetry) for 9:30. Only question was where the heck was it happening? I went to find Julia and head over to the event, but since we didn't know where we were going, we decided to send an email and wait it out in her room until someone told us where to go. We were too lazy to go look around ourselves. Oops. As we waited, Julia gave me a cider mill donut and a mug full of apple cider. Ain't nothin' wrong with that. I happened to be sitting in front of her mirror, so obviously I couldn't stop looking at myself. Of course this led to a conversation about Narcissus, and then of course Narcissa Malfoy, because Harry Potter. 30 minutes later and we finally knew where Wednesday Write Night was happening, delayed! The lounge!
So we headed to the lounge. While we waited for the now 10 o clock RA event, we decided to watch the next episode in Julia's DW adventure. As Sally Sparrow ducked, we realized no one was showing up. We checked our emails again and of course, wrong lounge.
So we headed upstairs! And here's where the night really gets good!
A few of us shared some of what we considered to be "bad poetry". I shared a poem that I had read for AP Lit and totally not gotten (Howard Nemerov's The Lobster) (Sorry Mrs. Tay but it was just really bad). Didn't like it then, still don't like it. Then we listened to a few bad high school analogies about trains and hummingbirds. There were some definite gems in those. And then... we wrote our very own bad poetry! And when I say bad, I mean it. All of us had to write about a kid named Dennis and Julia's braid. We all worked very hard, and we definitely all succeeded in writing some of the worst poetry out there. We read them aloud, laughed our faces off, then traded poems so we could read them again. Because that made sense. They were still just as good and still just as funny. We laughed so hard we cried. Of course, being a narcissist, I loved hearing mine read most. I got to hear it in slam too! Golden! Then we found out the whole time had been recorded by one of our lovely hall mates who I still don't really know what to call (Dandy?). Excellent! We listened to them for a third time! STILL JUST AS FUNNY!!! Every. Single. Time. So. Funny.
Then I walked past a girl talking in another lounge. She was telling someone about her day in the sun and she said, "I sat out in the sun today! I think I photosynthesized!" I don't know if she was trying to be funny, but seeing as I was already in the laughing mood, I found it hard to contain myself. Sorry girl if you read this, but really?
So over the night I laughed so hard for so long that by the time I got back to my room I had a bad case of the hiccups and the after-laughs. You know those laughs that happen because you started thinking about something that was funny that happened earlier in your life. It was great. My roommate thinks I'm insane. But this...
Interested in reading my bad poem? You're in luck!
Dennis's name was like a boy's name called Dennis
He sat on the floor when I met him
A braid on the side of her face
The left side. That means not the right
I guess that's significant
Dennis wore a green hat that was green like grass, not the yellow dry kind.
His hair was long like long hair
It will be donated to people who don't have hair
Maybe the girl with the braid will donate her hair
She probably won't because she likes her hair
Like a kid who likes cake, likes cake
She isn't as nice as Dennis is
Because she won't donate her hair
Like a boy with a magnifying glass being not nice and killing ants
P.S. I laughed when I typed this out again. What a night.
P.P.S. Title brought to you by my RA's bad poem. What a great one.
