And What She Was Stirring Was Up Trouble
First off, I have a raging hangover as I type this, so please excuse any grammatical and spelling errors. My brain hurts and my hands are still shaking.
So last night we went out for Rachel's birthday, which was fun except we wound up at SoMa which only seems to play rap stuff and as I am the whitest girl ever I can't actually dance to it. Not well, at least. I'm so white I was once approached in Ghetto Eagle by some guy with the line "Damn! You the whitest girl I ever seen! Where you from, Scandinavia?"
And after the bars closed I, in my infinite wisdom, decided it was a good idea to have afterhours at my place. And everyone but Ingrid came. I'm beginning to think that maybe the bars close at two for a reason: because when you keep drinking after that weird shit happens. So yeah, people came here and I drank more but so did they. And we wound up having a dance party, which was good since I was totally unsatisfied by the dancing at SoMa. Plus, my house = my music so while a lot of what we played is lost to my booze haze, I distinctly remember that we were dancing to Blur and the Smiths at some point. Yay! And I learned that Cristin is a Future Bible Heroes fan, which is not something I was expecting. And then, and I believe this was Lex's idea, we played spin the bottle. Yeah, we're all in our mid-twenties but for some reason it seemed like a good idea. I have to say it was a rather chaste version, nobody got any tongue or anything, but I'm still trying to figure out just how that one happened.
And then we were sitting around talking when Ethan, for reasons I simply cannot fathom, decided to bring up the topic of...this very blog. Which I didn't know he knew about and he insists he hasn't read (Ethan, I so do not believe you). Apparently it is the "talk of the program" which is sad on so many levels. First off, my peers aren't leaving comments to make me look popular. Second, I'm pretty sure I know who started telling people and if I'm right it is someone with a weird drive to make drama everywhere. Third, it isn't like I keep a lot of secrets from the people in my program. What are they really going to learn about me from this that they don't already know? It is pretty well-established that I drink far too much, flirt WAY too much (especially while drunk) and with absolutely anyone, just for sport, and that I make exceptionally bad decisions when it comes to boys. At all levels, from flirting to crushing to the naked. Who out there didn't already know that I totally go through crushes like it is my job? Or that (gasp!) sometimes I find this whole grad school thing to be really unsatisfying? Really, the only thing my peers might learn about me from this is my totally out-of-control Meet the Press Habit. And I will defend my love of Tim until my very last breath, dammit! I don't use anyone's names if things are incriminating, not that stuff can't be figured out but anyone who wants to sit around and put together all the clues needs a fucking life.
So what's the talk of the program now, bitches?
Sidebar to Tiff and Jessy: If I marry Brian (ha!), you both totally get to be my bridesmaids and I promise the dresses will rock. And you know I'd have a fantastic open bar.
So last night we went out for Rachel's birthday, which was fun except we wound up at SoMa which only seems to play rap stuff and as I am the whitest girl ever I can't actually dance to it. Not well, at least. I'm so white I was once approached in Ghetto Eagle by some guy with the line "Damn! You the whitest girl I ever seen! Where you from, Scandinavia?"
And after the bars closed I, in my infinite wisdom, decided it was a good idea to have afterhours at my place. And everyone but Ingrid came. I'm beginning to think that maybe the bars close at two for a reason: because when you keep drinking after that weird shit happens. So yeah, people came here and I drank more but so did they. And we wound up having a dance party, which was good since I was totally unsatisfied by the dancing at SoMa. Plus, my house = my music so while a lot of what we played is lost to my booze haze, I distinctly remember that we were dancing to Blur and the Smiths at some point. Yay! And I learned that Cristin is a Future Bible Heroes fan, which is not something I was expecting. And then, and I believe this was Lex's idea, we played spin the bottle. Yeah, we're all in our mid-twenties but for some reason it seemed like a good idea. I have to say it was a rather chaste version, nobody got any tongue or anything, but I'm still trying to figure out just how that one happened.
And then we were sitting around talking when Ethan, for reasons I simply cannot fathom, decided to bring up the topic of...this very blog. Which I didn't know he knew about and he insists he hasn't read (Ethan, I so do not believe you). Apparently it is the "talk of the program" which is sad on so many levels. First off, my peers aren't leaving comments to make me look popular. Second, I'm pretty sure I know who started telling people and if I'm right it is someone with a weird drive to make drama everywhere. Third, it isn't like I keep a lot of secrets from the people in my program. What are they really going to learn about me from this that they don't already know? It is pretty well-established that I drink far too much, flirt WAY too much (especially while drunk) and with absolutely anyone, just for sport, and that I make exceptionally bad decisions when it comes to boys. At all levels, from flirting to crushing to the naked. Who out there didn't already know that I totally go through crushes like it is my job? Or that (gasp!) sometimes I find this whole grad school thing to be really unsatisfying? Really, the only thing my peers might learn about me from this is my totally out-of-control Meet the Press Habit. And I will defend my love of Tim until my very last breath, dammit! I don't use anyone's names if things are incriminating, not that stuff can't be figured out but anyone who wants to sit around and put together all the clues needs a fucking life.
So what's the talk of the program now, bitches?
Sidebar to Tiff and Jessy: If I marry Brian (ha!), you both totally get to be my bridesmaids and I promise the dresses will rock. And you know I'd have a fantastic open bar.
6 Comments:
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Uh oh. Looks like trouble was brewing in Blogville before I got here.
Not trouble, comment spam. Unless you were really interested in low, low refinancing rates?
Hence the word verification thing.
Much more interesting to pretend I'm in some sort of major feud, though.
I had just assumed I'd drunk-commented... at least, you know, this way I could've accounted for my time then.
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