Chapter 9

Gods and goddesses. Dancing to "Little Surfer Girl" late at night. Two years too late.

Photo by Jace & Afsoon on Unsplash

I chose my college, Ursidae, for very specific reasons. The campus was lovely, well planned and dotted with ivy-covered brick buildings. It had a clocktower that chimed Rainbow Connection every night at 11pm. It was in an adorable little Upstate New York town, with a charming Main Street. There were many different kinds of bars, running the gamut from artsy to dive. There was a shop that sold nothing but donuts in the morning and greasy subs until 4am. It had multiple theatres — a mainstage, a blackbox, and several studios.

Also, they accepted me.

My grades in high school were a direct reflection of who I was and what I cared about at the time, a mixed bag of excelling in English, choir, social studies and health, and nearly flunking science, math, history, French and gym.

How do you fail gym? Easy! You simply don’t show…