takes me back

after a rousing conversation with brian and daniel the other night about materialism and stewardship and generosity and compassion...i took a walk down to my old stompin' grounds of West Chester U. Ah the days of parking my truck on Church St. and riding my bike all afternoon to class. Walking down the sidewalk in front of Main and hearing my name called just seconds before dave brindley's frisbee would hit me in the ear. Watching greg munz knock himself out running into that iron piece of abstract art in the quad. sweating over my drawing project since i couldn't draw. seeing my teachers face when i pulled my ceramics project out of the kilm and it was a mouse trap and a coaster set that still sits at my parents house in a box. trying to concentrate in my anthropology class as my teacher's three little boys ran around the classroom. trying to remember excel equations while my teacher stared over my shoulder. falling asleep in the study lounge. the smell of the pink hand-soap in the bathrooms. i miss those days. i miss that money i spent on those classes (mostly because i'm still paying it off). i miss those chicken ceaser wraps i used to get in the cafeteria. i miss jammin' with pete m. outside of burrito loco as drunk guys from the rat sang along after cru. almost makes me want to get my masters in undeclared.