Take my hand.

hand.

And,

Oh, oh, oh, oh,

September 29, 2014.

That was the first time I wrote in the new and improved college planner that Penn State reprinted at my request,

with a little help from Josh, of course.

Like I suspected, they were a hit, and the campus bookstore sold out of them in a week.

I kept track of every date, every assignment, event, everything in that thing, including the going-ons in my life.

Sometimes it was only a sentence or two. Like, Bobby stole my last chicken tender

at late night dining, rude.

But other times, it was like a diary.

September 29th was the day of my first all-nighter.

Bobby was out of town for his sister's wedding and Josh and I were studying for an art history exam.

My academic advisor had said I needed to branch out and wasn't allowed to take law school seminars as an undergrad.

Once it hit 4 a.m. Josh said that he had a surprise and he took me to the theater on campus.

He was running sound for the fall production of my fair lady.

I couldn't remember the name of this one Renoir painting, Dance at the Boujeville.

It's this couple dancing together at a party,

completely entranced in their own world.

Josh threw on a yellow hat and extended a hand to me, mimicking the man in the painting,

and we goofily danced around the stage, laughing hysterically, killing time

...