Smallhouse Log

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.

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