Grinnell Reunion by the Numbers

285: the number of miles between Powderhorn Park (Minnesota) and Grinnell College (Iowa) 183: the number of times I said that I didn't want to get my new Keens dirty

120: my heart rate as we arrived at Grinnell and I contemplated the fact that I was going to have to talk to people that I hadn't seen in a long time or, horror of all horrors, people I didn't know

87.9: the FM frequency we used to listen to Luisa's iPod through the car radio with her iTrip thingamabob that appears to work on pure magic

50: the number of times I saw other people's children and missed my own

13: the number of butter balls used to create my small sculpture at the dinner Saturday night

10: the number of years I shaved off of my life by inhaling second-hand smoke at The Pub in town (I have been spoiled by the Minneapolis smoking ban)

7.5: the total number of hours I slept in two nights at Grinnell

6: the number of bottles I broke with my bare hands

2: the number of women that showed me their bras (this does not include the women of the class of 1991 who flashed the class of 1992 as they had their class photo taken)

1: the number of jars of live cicadas that were sold in the Hometown Auction

My feelings about Grinnell are indescribable. Going back and spending time with some of the people who made life so enjoyable the first time around was incredible. I also had some great times with people I didn't know (or didn't know well) while I was a student. I know...that's what is supposed to happen at reunion but I never knew it could happen to little ol' introverted me.