Prep – Freshman Fall



I think that everything, or at least the part of everything that happened to me, started with the Roman architecture mix-up.  Ancient History was my first class of the day, occurring after morning chapel and roll call, which was not actually roll call but a series of announcements that took place in an enormous room with twenty-foot-high Palladian windows, rows and rows of desks with hinged tops that you lifted to store your books inside, and mahogany panels on the walls—one for each class since Ault’s founding in 1882—engraved with the name of every person who had graduated from the school. The two senior prefects led roll call, standing at a desk on a platform and calling on the people who’d signed up ahead of time to make announcements. My own desk, assigned alphabetically, was near the platform, and because I didn’t talk to my classmates who sat around me, I spent the lull before roll call listening to the prefects’ exchanges with teachers or other students or each other.  The prefects’ names were Henry Thorpe and Gates Medkowski. It was my fourth week at the school, and I didn’t know much about Ault, but I did know that Gates was the first girl in Ault’s history to have been elected prefect.

The teachers’ announcements were straightforward and succinct: Please remember that your adviser request forms are due by noon on Thursday. The students’ announcements were lengthy—the longer roll call was, the shorter first period would b—-and filled with double entendres: Boys’ soccer is practicing on Coates Field today, which, if wouldn’t know where it is, is behind the headmaster’s house, and if you still don’t know where it is, ask Fred. Where are you, Fred? You wanna raise your hand, man?  There’s Fred, everyone see Fred?  Okay, so Coates.  And remember—bring your balls.

When the announcements were finished, Henry or Gates pressed a button on the side of the desk, like a doorbell, there was a ringing throughout the schoolhouse, and we all shuffled off to class.  In Ancient History, we were making presentations on different topics, and I was one of the students presenting that day. From a library book, I had copied pictures of the Colosseum, the Pantheon, and the Baths of Diocletian, then glued the pictures onto a piece of poster board and outlined the edges with green and yellow markers. The night before, I’d stood in front of the mirror in the dorm bathroom practicing what I’d say, but them someone had come in, and I’d pretended I was washing my hands and left.

I was third; right before me was Jamie Lorison. Mrs. Van der Hoef had set a lectern in the front of the classroom, and Jamie stood behind it, clutching index cards. “It is a tribute to the genius of Roman architects,” he began, “that many of the buildings they designed more than two thousand years ago still exist today for modern peoples to visit and enjoy.”

My heart lurched. The genius of Roman architects was my topic, not Jamie’s. I had difficulty listening as he continued, though certain familiar phrases emerged: the aqueducts, which were built to transport water … the Colosseum, originally called the Flavian Amphitheater …

Mrs. Van der Hoef was standing to my left, and I leaned toward her and whispered, “Excuse me.”

She seemed not to have heard me.
“Mrs. Van der Hoef?”  Then—later, this gesture seemed partially humiliating—I reached out to touch her forearm.  She was wearing a maroon silk dress with a collar and a skinny maroon belt, and I only brushed my fingers against the silk, but she drew back as if I’d pinched her.  She glared at me, shook her head, and took several steps away.
“I’d like to pass around some pictures,” I heard Jamie say. He lifted a stack of books from the floor. When he opened them, I saw colored pictures of the same buildings I had copied in black-and-white and stuck to poster board.
(Prep, Curtis Kittenfeld, pages 4-5)



J P Morgan Chase Logo 2008 1.svg
270 Park Avenue (WTM by official-ly cool 100).jpg

The JPMorgan Chase & Co. headquarters at 270 Park Avenue in Midtown Manhattan
Traded as
Industry Bankingfinancial services
Predecessor Bank of the Manhattan Company founded September 1, 1799; 217 years ago
Founded December 1, 2000; 16 years ago
Headquarters 270 Park Avenue
New YorkNY 10017
Area served
Key people
Jamie Dimon
(ChairmanCEO & President)[1][2]
Marianne Lake

Marianne Lake is the Chief Financial Officer of the bank JPMorgan Chase.[2] She was appointed on 20 November 2012, replacing Douglas Braunstein. Blythe Masters and Lou Rauchenberger were also considered for the role.

Her office is adjacent Dimon’s.[3] Lake has emphasized the company’s role as a technological innovator.[4]

ML: It’s also been a massive opportunity to learn and grow. I think there are always phases in life when things get intense or difficult, whether it’s the sheer volume of work or personal circumstances. And I’ve definitely had tough moments. The way I approach them is just to tell myself that this too will pass, and take it one day at a time. Soon enough, you look back and see the forest for the trees again.

Open – Rhye -Woman [Full Album]
Mix – Rhye -One Of Those Summer Days …
Famous Jehovah’s Witnesses – Interviews, pictures and status
Jamie xx – Far Nearer
Rhye- Woman [Full Album]
(My phone, a Google phone, February 7, 2017)

February 9, 2017, approximately 3pm.  About Me.  Etta James is singing At Last My Love Has Come Along [here at Starbucks], two “homeboys” [two of those young black males whom I love so very much] are sitting next to me drinking tall containers of some kind of McDonalds beverage and boxes of Buffalo Wings, they purchased Starbucks cake [I asked if I could take a picture of the Victory of Experience Victory of Pain Buffalo Wings box but I’m too mentally and emotionally exhausted and in too much pain to upload and post the pictures-they two are now plaintiffs in a legal case against Berkshire Hathaway, Citi, Accenture, JPMorganChase, Verizon and other corporations including the Mormon Church of Satan, cc all Mormon attorneys), listening to, what, I do not know; I’m feeling easy button laser beam pain in my head.  Shattered glass, one of their cell phones.

It seems that this pain is never going to end.

It seems that the stock market is never going to crash.

Could it be that I’m mistaken about a stock market crash, worldwide?

Could it be that I’m mistaken about everything?