So the big Totem Spirit week came and went, leaving me dazed and slightly confused in its aftermath. Color wars, homecoming and Glow all (by some miracle planning) fell upon the same day, pumping so much adrenaline into a single sixteen hour span that I needed a couple vodka shots here and there to keep me going through the day. My RA Malindi called Color Wars some of the most fun she’d experienced in residence, and the Dene president Alex called Glow the best night of our lives (well that’s a bit presumptuous, isn’t it?) As it turns out, one was quite right, the other was quite not.
The moment I heard of the points system for each houses, I, naturally, thought of Hogwarts and its magic red, green, blue and yellow stones. Well, while the students of Hogwarts gained their points through good behaviour, it turns out Totem residents get points through far more awesome means: spirit and kicking but in color wars. I like our way. I’d heard that Dene house always packed the pep into everything they did, and this year was certainly no exception; I can count the number of people on my hand who didn’t subject their body to some sort of orange and black paint. We screamed at the top of our lungs, jumping back and forth between each game, never letting our continued losing streak bring us down. Sure, we lost quite spectacularly, but we had a helluva lot more fun than all the other teams combined. We even made up new chants as we went along, such as “Eye of the Tiger” or changing the words of “Hey Ricky” to “Hey Dene”. It really did its job, in bringing me closer to just about everyone in Dene. The team building worked so well that I had a hard time sitting with non-Tigers at lunch a few hours later. Dene-dene-rawwwr!
Too bad Glow that night didn’t pack the same punch. When someone calls something “the best night of your life”, you’re going to go in with high expectations (I’d like to call it the “Grad-night complex”). Turns out that Glow was little more than a club, only instead of going home with someone you’ve never met before, everyone seemed to have no problem that night ‘one-night standing’ with people they either knew, or their friends knew. The incredibly boring DJ didn’t help matters either. But still, the biggest sign it was a bad night? The fact that even drunk, I realized exactly how terrible it was. I’m guessing next year the hype for the glorified dance party will be far more balanced.
Overall, this weekend taught me that I shouldn’t get my hopes up because of what someone else tells me about it; I have to embrace it with new arms and eyes on my own terms, and learn what I can with it by myself. Hey, it’s worked for me so far, what could go wrong now?