my memories
I am so evil. As an extreme sentimentalist, I feel it is my duty to enumerate thirty seven memories of TASP .. one for each ‘TASPer’. I know this is going to be super long. sorry. i love you all even though it is not readily evident in my administration of the ensuing torture.
Memory Number One: Tosin
Sometimes, I kneel at the side of my bed and pray thanks to God for having Tosin and Brandon in the same room as me when I was in seminar. Some mornings just seemed too early and Tosin and Brandon could just go on and on, it seemed, in vehement (and perhaps sometimes long-winded) argument.
Memory Number Two: Dammit Janice?
Wow. It was really late in the TASP and I thought I knew everyone. But.. who was that girl that was so fervent about Hannah's PubSpeak? First impressions are always lasting, but Janice's was amazingly so. Before that night I remembered Janice's name by singing the Rocky Horror Picture Show song imagining the subjects of Wood's American Gothic painting singing monotonously 'Jannette' (which somehow sounds like 'Janice' in my head). But after that night, my memories of Janice were of a great conversation, learning not only of Hannah's home perspective, but of Janice's very different one. Gochu manchodto twao!
Memory Number Three: Ashley (Apples)
Barefoot for the first time in the kitchen with both a feeling of grueling dirtiness and college on my mind, Ashley fell victim. What colleges are you looking at? I don't remember the response exactly, but I do remember the names of a couple small liberal arts colleges. I inquired about the 'Harvard girl look' of which she gave me the impression. I'm not sure if Ashley was offended or disgustingly curious, but a long conversation proceeded. It wasn't until pretty much everyone else's day at Buttermilk when I really knew Ashley, but that's a whole 'nother memory.
Memory Number Four: Davie
We were bad, bad children. Sitting outside of the House.. after eleven pm?! Who let these kids into TASP?! (lol.) David sat across from me, being a slightly worse TASPer than I was (according to the TASP Commandments), and we had a rather depressing conversation. Shhh.
Fortunately I have many other memories of Davie -- both TASP and post-TASP.
Memory Number Five: Dustin
In a milieu of amateurism, the air of a lieutenant that emanated from Dustin as we played Risk on the floor of the basement was most enthralling and rather forced me to resign as commander of (what was it?) Australia quite early in the game. That, and dinner clean-up duty in the kitchen right in the middle of the game.
Memory Number Six: J
Oh so many memories of Jordan. What? Aporetic apple eating? An impeccable impersonation of Dara? Smacking me of the bottom with a metal stick as Phiddipides (was it for the sake of perpetuating Sadism or Classicism?) Drawing his face on a Fluxus Balloon? Oh man! ? (in a Scandinavian influenced Japanese.. ) 'Anatano ochinchin sawa'te ideska?' Being Emily Dickinson while gleefully enjoying the penetration of Satan's spiked phallus? A plethora of post-TASP conversations? -- I love compound memories.
Memory Number Seven: Alina
In the early morning hours of the opening of the Motherfluxer happening, we all eagerly anticipated the sight of the rising sun. Something happened and Alina ended up rolling down the front lawn and scraping her knee. Its all fun and games until someone gets their knee scraped. What the heck .. i was still fun and games afterward (just a bit more cautious-like)
Memory Number Eight: Greg
At lunch on the first day, Greg was the kid that thought broccoli was the best thing that came in it's shape.
Memory Number Nine: Rachel
Rachel, Rachel; oh how I miss you. I remember it was like the third night and we had a quasi-successful discussion on the Apology that lasted until pretty late. I think Jordan was the first to leave and then Tina came and all of this shifting happened. Eventually I think it was pretty much Rachel and I that were left and a great talk ensued. Little did I know that many more would too.
Memory Number Ten: Brendan
Just looking at the spelling of Brendan’s name makes the Pixies blast full-volumen in my head. Images of Brendan’s really convincing, sage-like voice also arises in my head as he spoke during seminar. Also, a high Rocky Mountain scene with a Hawaiian seascape at its foot. But those aren’t really memories are they. Oh well, I like it and I’m leaving them.
Memory Number Eleven: Alexis
The memory that most sticks with me with Alexis in it is rather sad. I made an ass of myself in this memory (not unlike most of my memories, in general). But in this one, I tenaciously didn’t believe Krishanu when he was trying to tell me something serious, thinking it was a sick joke. After that day, I always regretted acting like such a social clod in front of Alexis, who barely knew me.
Memory Number Twelve: Brandon
How could I forget that eager Michiganite's face asking me to wrestle with him right there in the middle of the common room? How? Just, how?
Memory Number Thirteen: Chris
One word: Strepsiades. I guess that's the best memory of me for me at TASP lol. That was hard to do.
Memory Number Fourteen: (Not Chris) Krishanu
Really excellent development of philosophical abstract ideas. In seminar, the days were otherwise uneventful until an adolescent Indian from Texas raises an orgasmically tight fist in the air in what looks like sweaty triumph as Brandon argues against the omnipresence of Sarah Lucia.
Memory Number Fifteen: Pi
Luckily I did not have to be in the same room as Tina while Dara and Christian gave me the ‘no-PDA’ talk in regards to Tina. Oh jeez: the thunderous laughter that may have occurred if they only knew at that moment that I’d be getting the same talk in about a week concerning Krishanu. Let’s just afttribute this oddity to my propensity for open affection that I didn’t ever have until TASP.
Memory Number Sixteen: Rima
Dyed hair and really high socks. What more can I say besides kinda long walks to and from the Christian Science Meeting House?
Memory Number Seventeen: Blaen
I’m a compulsive photo taker (duh). As a result, the memories that most stick with me are those instilled in the instantaneousness of my photos. When I think of Blaen I can’t help but see that picture of her on the TASP Sleeperzzzz Page of our yearbook.
Memory Number Eighteen: Sid
I'm saddened by the fact that my memory of Sid is rather mediocre and everyone probably has it. But, nonetheless, the memory of Sid freaking out and typing in quick spurts, then pressing backspace a lot, and going back to thinking is amazingly flamboyant in my mind.
Memory Number Nineteen: Guava?
Seyram would always be the quiet kid in my eyes.. if it weren't for that night in the kitchen. It was pretty late in TASP but that didn't keep Seyram from preaching in the kitchen about I-don't-remember-what. A few days later he poured his heart out again at Cafe Telluride Two.
Memory Number Twenty: HAruko
My memories are rather dizzy from that point on.
Memory Number Twenty-One: Isa
It was really late and the discussion began in the seminar two room and continued down to the kitchen. Isa and I ventured to desarrollar the ideas that I would otherwise pass off for another day. We reached a beautiful conclusion after much debated and passing back and forth and bouncing and what not. It was excellent and perfect. I don't remember anything about it, sadly, except that it was really smart. I remember a societal perspective on the film Castaway, but ... damn!
Memory Number Twenty-Two: Miriam
I’m glad our relationship evolved because I’d say for a good two-thirds of TASP there was his weird chemistry between Miriam and I. I think we finally got over it in the late hours of the night (a weird trend is developing concerning the times I interacted with people at TASP) when she, Keegan, Krishanu, and I had a long and awesome conversation about character eccentricities.
Memory Number Twenty-Three: Rafie
The most beautiful combinations of words is that from which I will forever benefit in knowing Rafie. He always had a way of saying just the right thing to convey what he was thinking or feeling. I hope to have that power some day, whether by words or by paint or by melody.
Memory Number Twenty-Four: Alex
Perhaps my most vivid memory of Alex is post-TASP, but I wouldn't feel right talking about it here. But, my TASP memory of Alex is.. not really TASP either! I'm saying it (what the Hell!). It's actually pre-TASP and he and his parents were on a Cornell tour and so were me and my mother. It was fun to listen to his parents actually give the tour since they knew more about Cornell than did the guide (having gone there themselves).
Memory Number Twenty-Five: Hannah
Ochinchin! How appropriate that it rained the last day; it obviously wasn't only the sky that was pouring. I think that alone says enough to recall this memory. But, an equally vivid memory (Memory Number Twenty-Five point Five, I suppose), is on the front porch of the House. I knew Hannah was busy with seminar work, did that stop me from talking to her? Hell no! We talked for a while about painting and our apparently differing views on AP Art, a conversation I was glad to have continued another day. Saranheo!
Memory Number Twenty-Six: the Best Roommate Ever
One percent of my Adam memories (rather ironically enough) did not occur in our room. Is it me, or was Adam always in really athletic clothes? (I think it was just me). But how I best remember Adam (and I know this wasn’t just me) was with a piece of ice cream paraphernalia in his mouth. Fudgcicle? IcePop? Snickers? Whatever was in the freezer, Adam had it. But those IcePops were so irresistible! (who could blame him?)
Memory Number Twenty-Seven: Linda Louie!
How relieved I became to find out I wasn't the only person in the world to have taken an interest in the life of Jonathon Livingston Seagull. Then, yoga on the balcony convinced me that Linda is one of the coolest people ever. (one of thirty six or so, that is.)
Memory Number Twenty-Eight: Elise
My most flagrant memory of Elise was the dress she wore to one of the TASP dances. WHOA! Congratulations, Elise, on that thing that was barely there! Elise is by far the most extreme and courageous person I have ever met and that kind of stuff just sticks.
Memory Number Twenty-Nine: Mo' Keegan Dan Keegan, Yo
Walking around on the second floor always entailed an odd attraction to the unusually small-for-three-roommates room. My ear always drew me there because of the variegated and beautiful sounds of Keegan's music selection. Plus the green hair!
Memory Number Thirty: Eddie
Oh how precious it is to see a repented Hispanic (with whom I can very much identify) stand in front of a crowd of his peers and watch as he raps some of that good ol' Old School. Eddie's PubSpeak was awesome .. and so is his yearbook page.
Memory Number Thirty-One: Oh Nikki
Nikki and Alina we sitting on the brown couch on the first day of TASP and were getting along so well that I thought they had known each other well before TASP. When a few of us translocated to the basement to play I don't remember what board game, Nikki said something that made me think 'Whoa! I can't believe she just said that.' Soon I figured out that Nikki's sweet appearance is matched by an equally maniacal cynicism because of which I loved her more.
Memory Number Thirty-Two: Nancy
Oh Nancy. Should I talk about that confusing game, Go, or about the first TASPer I ever met? Had I met any other TASPer first, I'd probably be calling my mom and asking her to take me home (of course, by that logic, it follows that had the kangaroo never existed, the telephone may have never been invented by Bell). The thing I best remember about my first Nancy-esque encounter was my great difficulty in deciding what I should tell everyone to call me. Luckily, you all figured it out for me.
Memory Number Thirty-Three: (Ma) Dara
Arguably, my best TASP memory was untangling yarn in Dara's room. Lol (?). I was in there for a chat during a time when a chat was really needed; it was incredible. Soon I found my obsessive compulsive self untangling Dara's yarn. The conversation continued well into the night. I believe it was two nights later when she volunteered to eat an heaping spoonful of Diamond Crystal Kosher Salt, thus confirming her place as the Cc- World's Greatest Factotum..
Memory Number Thirty-Four: Christian
Oh how I can talk about Fluxus right now.. but, I won't. The weirdest moment at TASP had to be when Christian asked me to go to the coffee shop with him. I immediately wondered if he does that for everyone, and hoped he did. But, during and after an amazing conversation with him on architecture, interests, and all that stuff, I felt really special and hoped that I actually was the only one with whom he did this. I was crushed when I found out that that wasn't the case. (not really, lol).
Memory Number Thirty-Five: Amina
I am certain that if I could remember the thoughts that go on in my head while I am asleep that I would be even stranger a person, perhaps it is this that makes me the ‘strange’ person I am. Whatever the case, I am comforted of this reality only because I am certain that I have had a nightmare concerning Amina turning me really small and then stepping on me. That was, of course, before I found out how great a thinker, and how great a person, she is.
Memory Number Thirty-Six: Nathan
All I remember of Nathan is him laughing at me when I was around. (lol). I have that effect on some people. Other than that, I remember on black-out night when he emerged from his subterranean dwelling and joined us in candlelit TASP life for those hours.
Memory Number Thirty-Seven: K-8 (and Chris)
Mmmm. TASP would not have been as great as it was without the breakfasts, lunches, and dinners and I think clean-ups and cookings gave us all a great appreciation for what all exactly the people who mysteriously seemed to reside in the House kitchen did for our summer experience.
Memory Number .. Shut-Up-Already aka the ‘WaitWait!-I-Have-A-Bonus-Memory Memory
Who could forget being exhausted on a Thursday afternoon (I believe) and sitting in the hot Goldwyn-Smith Building listening to Tom Connelly’s captivating lecture on ancient French poetry?!
that is all.
.christopher.a.rodriguez.

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