Monday, Second Week
"I know how you hate abbrevations.... so.... I just laughed out loud." -Dylan, 09/25/2004
Sickness destroys everything I've worked for!
Granted, that wasn't much.
Friday night was movie night. There was much groping. We're still not sure by who or onto whom, but it was definitely there.
Saturday night was Carlos's barbeque. There was much groping. Leah made fun of my groping abilities, and then forbade me to chew on her hair. But it smells so good!
Speaking of smelling good, I found out the other day that she's been manipulating me since the day she met me! If that's not awesome, I don't know what is.
I'm gonna go add it to the Awesomeness Scale right now.
Friday, First Week
"All you need is a good ear, a strong voice, and a desire to awaken the sleeping Cossack within you." -Noel Taylor
Finally, some quotes. And two weeks worth of update. Raiiight.
No-Week happened. First years happened. Classes happened. Franz Ferdinand happened. These things happen.
But now for the real news: my new couch. It's at least seven feet long, and just happens to be the exact colour and pattern of the loveseat I already had. Thus, I now have a beautiful blue motif in my living room.
And I'm going to buy a DOC pass.
Tuesday
I cannot seem to find any trace of either 1945 or The Return on the Internet. This is extremely bothersome.
So, Anna came back today. Alex woke me up so he could do laundry. Vanessa got chewed out by Jolyon for selling shot glasses in the lobby (even though she had permission from housing), and I bought a shirt I'm not supposed to be able to buy. It's awesome. I also ate three dinners.
The second night of No-Week was so-so, until the cops broke it up. After that, it was pretty good, even if I never took my pants off. Friends of the hosts were allowed to stay, so I did. There were also two first-year girls who stayed, one of whom had been 'hiding' in the closet after the cops came. Her name was Mame. The other was Joules, whom I walked home because she lives in Shoreland.
I wasn't the only O-Aide there this time, though I was the only one not drinking. All the other O-Aides left when the cops came, because they were threatening to ID. As I a) am over twenty-one and b) had not and was not going to drink anything, I wasn't too worried; I just reminded them to hide the cash box. Then we all sat around talking, and most of us sat around drinking.
I'm excited for Friday. I may have to pass over Critical Mass for.... other things. I suppose it depends on what the weather is like.
Avast!
Monday
So. Fire alarm. I had only been asleep for maybe three and a half hours. Grr.
After I woke up the second time, I did stuff. The only thing remarkable about it was how otherwise unremarkable it was. Then, I learned something.
You see, "O-Week is a Dry Week." However, No-Week is not, and it kicked off tonight in somewhatgrand style. I really hope no first years are reading this. Lorange invited me personally, how could I refuse? After Second City, I help a few first years pick out classes, and then I headed out. I, of course, did not drink; a promise to a cold, heartless institution is still a promise. I did not tell and first years about it, and even while there, I refrained from so much as pointing out where the bar was to first years. It's all about the letter of the law.
As for the party, it was alright. I had brought my own drink umbrella. I was told to take off my pants, and of course complied; I even got someone else to join me. I hung out with that Matt kid a fair bit, and got to know some nice first years. Oh, yeah, and I have 'SØber' written on my right hand and 'Victør del Nemø' written on my left. I hope it's not permanant ink.
Oh, yeah, and I'm the Ambassador to the Peanuts.
Sunday
"He was like, 'So this one time.... Milk.' And that was the whole story." -unknown, 09/19/2004
Fishbein = So Rock.
First night: lots of conversation over dinner, no one started to leave until just before the house meeting was about to start anyway. After that, movie night. Labrynth. The one with David Bowie in too-tight pants and that song no one can get out of their head. Then, stayed up talking with a first year until nearly bedtime, when I kicked him out.
Second night: House Activities Night. We traipse about downtown in groups, then rejoin and split into different groups for activities. My group swung by the House of Blues, then the Billy Goat Tavern, then a Portillo's, then just walked up Clark for the fun of it before coming home. The whole time, every time we saw a Walgreen's, Althea (first year) would say, "Hey look, a Walgreen's; let's go!" That is, until she realised that there's a Walgreens approximately every three blocks. After we got back, Shannon threw a dance party in her room. Bridget and Flow brought the music, I brought the blacklights and the first-years. We all brought the groove. I invited some of the new Deweys, but they only stayed ashort time and didn't dance. Poo. The dance party lasted for maybe an hour, and then all the first years got tired and left, and we sat around talking until Danielle (first year) came in, at which point we promptly sat around talking. Then Flow and Danielle left, and Bridget and Shannon fell asleep on the couches, and I came home and made drapes, or rather, a drape, and hung it. And then I wrote this.
Tomorrow, I think we could pull off a game night, ne?
Wednesday
Moved in. Not unpacked, but moved in. Already staked down the best mattress, the desk I like, and the dresser I want. I left the walk-in closet alone, however, and I took the bookcase that's falling apart. It should be fine if I brace it against my bedframe and the wall.
Speaking of the bedframe, I now have a bedcave. It is so cool. I love it. Dearly.
There are two main things that take away from the awesome that is this room: No couches, and a full-body mirror set in the bathroom door, facing into the bedroom. The former can be fixed. The latter will be. I will not abide such a thing in my bedroom. To let it remain is utterly reckless, and I for one, made sure to stock up on reck before coming back to college (though I'm sure I'll have run out by at least sixth week of spring quarter). My current plan is a drape of some sort; I threw a sheet over it for last night.
Oh, yeah, and the three-o-clock club is making a comeback.
Saturday
Well, I'm near Chicago now. I forgot to not pack the postcard I was going to send Leah, so I'll have to wait on that until I'm in Chicago proper. Until Tuesday, I'm here in the 'burbs with my aunt, uncle, and adorable cousens. Elli talks now! Not very coherently, but well enough.
As promised, some of the best question/answers:
(Leah) Would you support a law banning pants?
No. I believe that in this nation, people have the right to wear whatever they want, within the realm of decency. Were I the benevolent dictator of another nation, the situation might be different; however, I love, adore, and respect pants, and would never outlaw them.
(Leah) If it passed, would you wear a skirt?
Call it a skirt if you want. I say it's perfectly masculine.
(Stan) In response to the skirt question, can we expect to see you sporting either skirts or kilts this coming year?
If you could get me a kilt in my size....
(Stan) What about a skirt? (a bit more feasible and also comes in a pleated plaid this season)
It'd have to be at least below the knee, you know. I may not be a girl, but I'm still not that kind of girl.
(Clara) Are you a pirate?
Not often. Not professionally.
(Stan) How does one define the mood pirate exactly?
Piratically. Failing that, erratically.
(Anna B.) Why?
The ethical is composed of three realms: the moral, the practical, and the aesthetic. In a perfect world, these three would always align, and what is right, what is useful, and what is pleasant would lie along the same course. As it is, they are fractured, and often compete with each other for governance of individual behavior. Because of this internal battle, individuals are often confused as to the reasons, sometimes even the ends, for their behavior. In others, one of the three may acheive total dominace, or total extinguishment -eg. the miser who only does what will increase his wealth or the boor too wrapped up with his morality and his position to appreciate beauty. Thus, the question of "Why?" is not only different for every person, but very rarely does that person actually know the answer, even should he think he does.
(Anna B.) Why not?
*blush*
(Patrick) Should I worry about being sexiled/makeoutciled this year?
No. Because worrying doesn't solve anything.
That's your dose for now; there are, however, More good ones, and I'll get around to posting them later. I'm having troublr typing in the dark.
"Zombie justice, where are you?"
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