Living & Arts

Sneaking a snowball fight into the schedule

In print | February 12, 2009

“I regret to inform you that …” pretty much summarizes the theme of this past week. Not only did it signify the closing of certain doors for a while, but it also meant that I had to once again prove my own strength and pick up the pieces. For with each rejection follow at least two more new job applications, though, I admit, despite the disappointments, it is kind of neat to still have a clean slate ahead of me. But, as graduation grows near — February 20 marking 99 days to graduation! — the open slate cannot stay this open or else Kendal is heading back to life in bumble, facing days of boredom and being forced to hear the words “I told you, you should have gone to grad school right away,” if not vocalized, at least implied every time my Dad looks at me. (Ugh! I hate when they’re right!)

Putting the pieces back together, I spent last weekend applying to yet another fellowship and decided to reward myself by checking off a small bucket list item: watching the Super Bowl in Mephistos for the first time. While it is not the bucket list item I’m writing about today, it is worth mentioning, as I think watching the Super Bowl in Mephistos is something everyone should do once before they graduate. (And underclassmen, if you continue to ask us seniors “what we’re doing next year,” be prepared for a similar fate to that of the koala bear in the CareerBuilder.com Super Bowl commercial. No, I am not bitter).

The real bucket list item I would like to share with you took place on Tuesday, February 3. That morning I woke up at 7:30 a.m. in a panic, realizing that the refrigerator I could not bear to look at upon returning from winter break was still shoved under my bed … 3 weeks later. I had dreamt that the gag-full of mold infesting my fridge had climbed its way up my bed and suffocated me into a mummified mold-induced coma. AHH!! That said, I cleaned it … and anyone who was walking to an early class had the benefit of witnessing me in my pj’s, hosing down my fridge outside — amid ice rain at 8 a.m. (Think what you will.)

After that, my day consisted of heading to Denny’s for that Free Grand Slam, courtesy of Super Bowl commercials, followed by seven hours of class, six of which took place at Penn. After a long day of music, Hungarian, LSAT work and walking through the snowy wind-tunnels of Philadelphia, I was heading out of class around 10 p.m. (ready to head home and write two more job applications), surprised to see so many inches of REAL, beautiful snow! Although I was exhausted, cold and ready to crawl into bed, seeing the city like a winter wonderland, my first thought was: I can’t wait to see Swarthmore in this snow!! My thoughts then changed to “This could potentially be my last real snowfall at Swarthmore,” then to “I have not played in the snow since freshman year!” Then to, “I have never had a snowball fight at Swarthmore!” And, before I knew it, through a few text messages, I had organized a Dana-Hallowell snowball fight. I hopped off of the train, running full speed until I reached Hallowell. Let the fight begin!

A few hours later, I had thrown dozens of snowballs at the Dana clan (I do believe Hallowell won, as Dana retreated behind the walls of the Dana-well trailer, scared to face the wrath of the our forces), been flanked from behind by a David Kemp/Mertz clan who had received an anonymous tip regarding our whereabouts, made a surprise attack against a beloved Paces milkshake chef, slid down the walkway to Willets, surprised by the lack of underclassmen enthusiasm for the snow, overcame an unsuspecting Worth crew, had a run-in with a group from ML who were obviously out of their element, unable to use bikes and shuttles to weasel themselves out of an encounter and even clobbered a few groups camping out in the amphitheatre. Marching through campus with sleds for shields and Sharples trays for quick escapes, our crew conquered the night. I came back feeling as though I had gone to battle in a snow globe; terrible hits were taken, forceful blows were given, and always, always, always, a magnificent swirl of beauty was present in each clash.

With each throw or chase or piece of snow eaten (yes, I admit it!), the stresses of the past week — rejections, applications, a tough loss for Arizona, hours of LSAT prep, class and thesis work — seemed to fall away. I felt like I was a freshman again, excited about my first snowfall here at Swarthmore. I forgot about all of the “what ifs” of senior year and just enjoyed “being” for those three hours. A very wise Mr. Mike Brady once said, “Wherever you go, there you are.” That’s what this semester is about for me. And, on Tuesday night, I was. I was at Swarthmore, flipping and waltzing my way across campus, armed with friends (and faced with some “well-known” enemies), enjoying every second.

The papers would be there whether I took some time off or not. The applications would be waiting whether I did them that night or not. But, in 117 days (yes, I counted), Swarthmore will not be here in the way it is right now. Throughout my time at Swarthmore, I have frequently “had too much work” to do and have turned down many spontaneous adventures. I regret that now. Make sure you play in the snow at least once a year. And seniors, for those of you who were caught inside of McCabe or Hicks last Tuesday night, make sure that with every spontaneous adventure you turn down, you replace it with a different one. Let it inspire you to take on the next adventure you come across and just ENJOY. And, for those who were with me on the battleground that night, I have a stash of snowballs locked away in my now-clean freezer, so beware; while the weather might be warmer this week, winter has a way of creeping back up on you. Take it in stride.

Kendal is a senior. She can be reached at krinko1@swarthmore.edu.