I tend to miss it a lot, and not in the way that I want to go back and live it again, because reading The Great Gatsby often enough (and, you know, living life) will pound into your head that such things aren’t possible. No. I miss it more in the way of remembering how awesome a time I had for four years and then being a bit jealous of myself, and then a little annoyed because maybe I didn’t appreciate it quite as much as I should have at the time. But no one ever does, because if they’re anything like me, they’re having too much fun to notice. As it should be.

May Day, just like Birthday Ball, is a major Washington College holiday. For those of you who have no idea of the traditions of my alma mater (and why should you?), May Day is generally known as a time of naked dancing around the flagpole. Usually at midnight. And usually large quantities of alcohol are involved. But I don’t really associate May Day with nudity alone. (I never did participate in that particular element anyway.) I associate it more with the general happiness that the semester is over, your work is (mostly) done, and it’s time to sit on Middle porch with some beer and some friends and some bullshit. And one year, a makeshift barbecue of Foreman grill proportions. I feel like that’s a particular feeling you don’t get very often in life, and even less so outside of college.

In any case, because I’m at work waiting impatiently for the metaphorical bell to ring so I can get on a train to London for a weekend break, I’m wiling away my time trolling through the WAC website looking at all the stuff I miss about sunny Chestertown. And pining. Maybe not for my college days in particular, but just for that ‘Hey, it’s summer and this beer is good and I’m not really concerned about anything else right now’ feeling. Because it’s a good one.