July 15, 2005

Hello Boilers,

There has been a long absence of diaries, and I apologize for this. But who better to get things rolling again than the Big Unit himself. And if Scott Warner doesn't fill in his Scantron wrong, his computer doesn't crash, or he doesn't hurt himself doing box jumps, his diary should follow mine shortly.

My summer officially started as I bubbled in a wild guess on my last question of my business law exam. Boy did it feel good to be done with the semester. My first ounce of fun kicked in when a couple of teammates and I called up Maddawg Kayak Tours and booked an excursion. Our guide ended up being the Maddawg (Coach Madden) himself. Unfortunately Lafayette was in the middle of a drought and it ended up being more of an urban kayaking experience, as I dragged my rear across every rock in the creek due to some new added weight resulting from my lovely knee injury. Meanwhile, the rest of the crew - lightweights Sounak and Scott - zipped along with no problem.

Next on my agenda was a weeklong escape with a little fun in the sun. The posse expanded to a whopping 10, including: former Purdue tennis greats Scott Mayer, Troy Havens, Ben Conant; recent graduates Filip Koziell and David Robinson; current members Scott Warner and me; and three lovely ladies who shall remain nameless to protect their innocence. The trip started out great for everyone except Scott Warner. In anticipation of a long car ride we all brought some means of entertainment. Scott packed a DVD player, a CD player, and a book. Scott is the only guy I know and will ever know that will bring a DVD player but no DVDs, a CD player and no batteries, and to cap things, off a book that he has already read. WOW. As you will find out later, Scott puts the icing on the cake with his next genius move. Twenty-two painstaking hours later in the Ford Excursion, which witnessed the busload turn delirious around sunrise, we finally made it to good ol' Marco Island in Florida.

Some highlights from the week include: 1) D-Rob and Scott Mayer wasting no time and engrossing themselves in pointless debates of politics and religion. 2) Late night, intense battle-of-the-sexes games of Scategories. 3) Troy and Scott Mayer in constant search of ladies. They finally found some our age that turned out to be a pair of Division I volleyball playing sisters. Fast forward. What started out as a little flirtatious game of volleyball quickly evolved into an ultra-competitive match. (I know what you're thinking ... Scott Mayer being competitive? No way!). Anyhow, the Boilers were victorious. Following the victory, Scott ruined any further relations he or anyone else would have with these girls.

Next up: a fantastic boat ride on Grandpa Rose's Ramblin' Rose. While at sea, Scott Warner tried to make a phone call under the water to the fishies. Who besides Scott Warner would jump of the boat with his cell phone in his pocket and then swim around for another 10 minutes without noticing?

It was time to look for some more trouble, so we called up the rightie, Sounak, from the minors, and hit the big leagues in South Beach. After a long night of hanging out with Jay- Z and fellow Roc-A-Fella Record rappers at the clubs and experiencing an emergence of the saying "Hot Boys," it was time to head back north to the great Midwest. Although nothing would compare to our legendary night in South Beach, the drive back was still entertaining. We saw the world's largest alligator, ate at the best Chinese buffet, and saw rookie driver Sounak not crash my mom's car in pouring rain driving through the Smoky Mountains in the wee hours of the morning.

Before the start of Maymester I got a bit of gutting news, as I learned I would have to have surgery on my ailing knee. I brushed it off and continued on with the fun. Maymester was a blast, as I got to see my teammates working like dogs in the weight room. David and I did our largatron workout while Sounak watched in awe. I logged many hours at the pool, hosted numerous grill-outs, made two more trips, and studied a little bit of Economics. The first trip was a visit to the city of sin (aka Las Vegas). I went with Colin Foster, teammate and partner in crime, for former teammate Derek Miller's bachelor party. Former legends Dan Swan, Laith Al-Agba, and that charming Brit Andrew Wakefield also attended. (By the way, Andrew and I had a great doubles relationship my freshman year. Since his departure my doubles has not been the same. I have gone through partners like yesterday's news.) I guess the saying is true: what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas! Especially when the diaries are under strict censorship. Another return to the Sunshine State and a final exam later it was time to go under the knife. Although surgery is not something you want to have done, it definitely has its perks. I got some great drugs (and by drugs I mean painkillers), my mom gave me more attention than our dogs, and I had the best male nurse: my little brother, PJ. I came off this high when I soon realized that my mom had put me on house arrest. I ended up getting blood clots in my leg, which required me to give myself shots of blood thinners in my stomach twice a day. And soon the post-surgery royal treatment vanished. The blood-clot debacle, which led to a tour of emergency rooms in my hometown area, also uncovered the fact that I have asthma. Hmmm. But through it all, my loyal male nurse and trusted pal Sounak kept me entertained. In Fil's absence, Sounak and I have been spending quite a bit of time together. Maybe I can infiltrate their exclusive partnership.

Other than doing countless hours of rehab and being a drain on the economy, I have stepped into the role of personal assistant to my mother Zofia (also know as Zorsia, Mooshka ... you don't want to mess with her). In this position, I get to go to the grocery store, Starbucks, Coldstone, etc. at the snap of her fingers. I was fortunate enough to go shopping for towels and drapes at Bed, Bath and Beyond the other day. As luck would have it, with me on the verge of losing my sanity, I got the clearance to play tennis after my three-month sabbatical. So next for me is a beat down on Coach Madden on the Varsity Tennis Courts in West Lafayette. Although it seems that I might be vulnerable, I have received a scouting report from an undisclosed source that Coach Madden has spent the last couple months fishing, stuffing his face at the Chinese buffet, and indulging himself in peppermint patties.

Well, that is summer so far in the shoes of Paul Rose. I hope you have enjoyed living my life vicariously. And froshies, I am still going to be a froshie killer this year. Maybe even a super-froshie killer with my new leg and expanded lung capacity.

GO BOILERS!

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