Why I hate George…
Let me start off by saying that I don’t know what I do without George in my life, he makes happy times feel happier, but he also has an annoying habit of bringing up old feelings, and thoughts, that you thought were long buried.
You know you’re your just sitting there caught up in work and someone says something, a phrase, a place you used to go, and you immediately remember that memory, and it brings a smile to your face (happy or sad, because you can have a sad smile), and you just sit there with that thought for a moment and have a warm fuzzy feeling. That’s how George makes me feel. But that doesn’t mean I can’t hate him for making me feel that way.
George came into my life in college. I’d like to think that I have always known George in some way. It was the year I was living in the sorority house, and a few of the girls just loved George and couldn’t say enough good things about him. But I just couldn’t bring myself to liking him. You see, I went to school in the U.P., that’s kinda like backwoods, not big city, where things closed down for opening day of deer season, and the thought of snow shutting down a city was obsurd. It was a happy place, where flannel jackets were in style before the Seattle made them “grunge”, just talking about it makes me smile. Boy those were simple times.