i can't find the words

There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.

i found this in the children’s zoo section of the st. louis zoo last thursday:

man oh man, the children’s zoo.

this is a direct quote from the email that my editor-in-chief recently sent to the newspaper staff:

“Last semester there was some disagreement and problems with drinking. I’ve come up with a rule that I think is fair. I don’t have a problem if people are drinking down in the basement because they’re having a rough press night. Trust me, I understand. Let’s just keep it under control. So, no body shots, no shot gunning, no funneling, no kegs…you get my point. The other rule with drinking is that it can’t happen until 10 p.m. and you have to ask the Editor in Chief first if she needs a drink before you buy your own. As with the other rules if this gets out of control and prolongs press night we’ll have to change things.”

hilarity will ensue.

i will say this: i would like to thank the stars for one ms. jennifer marie ferrell.

let me rewind to, oh, april, i guess. i, being the college student that i was, was constantly checking out my favorite bands’ websites to see when they were going on tour. thus, the very moment guster announced an august 3 show in st. louis, i was on the phone with jennifer to make plans.

(i did see guster between then and now, but i would rather not write about that road trip right now)

so, one morning in late may, i woke up at the obnoxious hour of seven o’clock just to make sure that jennifer and i got the best seats in the house. we did not get the best seats, but they were not half bad.

now, plans i make in advance have this tendency to fall apart at the last possible moment, so i fully expected something to come up saturday afternoon and leave me with an extra guster ticket. but when she called (as i was out making my car all shiny), she just wanted to know when i was picking her up and what she should wear (this concert was at the fox theatre, of all places). “huzzah!” i thought.

so i resumed the car-cleaning and then came back inside to change out of my wet clothes into my cool concert-going threads (jeans and a chauncey t-shirt (which, coincidentally, the merchandise girl (who happened to be cute) commented on)). always being one to multitask, i got online to check email and such whilst i was unclothing, deodorizing, and reclothing. of course, since i was multitasking, i was in and out of the room, always thinking of something else i needed.

at one point, i came back in, and noticed that sarah, the wonderful girlfriend of andy, whom i had had the privilege of living across the hall from during the last school year, had messaged me. “hmm..” thought i. sarah and i do not talk all that much.

she asked if i was sitting down. “OH NO OH NO OH NO OH NO.”

it wasn’t a bad dream. andy was killed in an automobile accident last wednesday.

in, well, a negative amount of time, i was on the floor crying. bawling. in pieces. a mess.

yes, i’d dealt with death before. my grandfather, my dad’s dad, passed away when i was in middle school. but this.. this was so much different. my grandfather had had alzheimer’s for years.. it was.. well, it was expected.

andy moore, i’d lived for him for eight months. he was there every damn night when i needed to talk to someone. we won the intramural football championship, went on late-night sub sandwich runs, and took that aforementioned gusteroad trip together. and a million other things.

AND HE WAS ONLY NINETEEN, GOD DAMN IT.

give me a minute.

okay, i’m able to write again. i’ll give you the scene, in case you’ve forgotten: it is approximately thirty minutes before i am to be picking up jennifer and i am on the floor in tears because i have just been informed that one of my best friends was no longer alive.

but i knew, i knew that if i cancelled on jennifer, it would be worse than not going out with her; she has a way with me.

at 5:30, i knocked on her door, handed her my car keys, choked back a sob, and told her why i was unable to drive my car any further than i already had.

again, thank the stars.

no one else could’ve taken care of me as well as she did. she told me stories, made me eat, held my hand – the whole shebang. and we had a grand old time. on a different day, i could’ve written pages about the show, but i think this paragraph is sufficient.

she dropped herself off at midnightish, and gave me my keys, followed by the longest bestest hug in the history of the world.

i made it home in one piece. cried. watched a movie. cried. decided to check email and call it a night.

samantha was online, and after talking to her for all of thirty seconds, i realized it would be much better if i called her.

so i did, and we took care of each other for the next eighty minutes.

and then i was able to sleep.

(andy, you will be sorely missed. and i promise that i will never let the corn grown past my sideburns.)