I'm still sort of stunned that it's over; that I've completed two years at university and that there's only three more. While I wait for the feeling to settle in, I'll throw down a quick rundown of the last few days:
Monday: Last exam - Psych 218. Afterwards, I hung out with the E7A crew, then drank with Tim and a bunch of other people.
Tuesday: Moped at home. My parents went shopping, so I cranked the volume, cued up a list of things I can't study to because I have to sing along to them, and belted out things ranging from Hawksley to Blur to Kylie and back to Young and Sexy. That was relieving.
Wednesday: CAPTURE THE FLAG. Scads of fun. Some crazy guy thought we should have weekly games. There was some serious shunning going on after that. In any case, I guarded the flag the first game, and then did a little spy work for the second, and didn't do any real running except for that one time I decoyed. After that, I killed a little time in the office, and then ran into Camille in the SUB. I intended to walk down to the village and buy alcohol (because I can now!!), but I ended up in Fairview, helping Tim and Adam move the last of their stuff out. Then Tim and I grabbed Meal #2 (neither of us had eaten lunch) and I found that the LDB in the village was closed, so I went on a mini-adventure to 4th and Alma, where everything went smoothly. Well, one almost-hiccup.
CLERK: ID, please.
(Gerald hands ID to clerk - licence and carecard)
CLERK: I don't know... this is a bit suspicious.
GERALD: I've got more if you need it. (smirk)
CLERK: I know. Just messing with you.
From there it was a bus ride to Spencer's, where I did a bit of cleaning and had a quick shower (having been gross from the capture the flag game) before the party started.
And did it ever start; Kent and Karl walked in with a cooler, and it was on. It was a party - not as epic as the RBF kegger, but one to be appreciated in its own right.
As per usual, awards and prizes were handed out; I received the "Graham's Keeper" award, along with a purple self-inflating whoopie cushion. I have no idea how they're connected, but cutting off Chris and Chris with fart noises was fun. Other awards of note included the "Barrington's Choice", given to Paige, and the "We Stared At You From Control Through Binoculars and We're Not Sorry" for Lianne - you had to be there for cleanup for it to make any sense.
stuff of note:
Jamie Oliver (famous chef, Naf's celebrity crush) also blogs.
also, his newest cookbook is pretty damn cool.
tired.
bored.
need to do decently on this exam, but all the greek symbols do nothing more than confuse me.
and fuel my desire for calamari.
bloody required-for-major stats courses.
props to Everyone's Favourite Instituition for hosting the predrink shindig, and to E7A for an excellent year as well as a bitchin' party. Also, the pie was excellent, and the icecream cake was a nice touch, if a little bloody.
I won the "Most Enjoyable While Intoxicated" award for "One More Keg Stand for the Road", as well as the "The J K Rowling – Turning Our Kids Back onto Reading" award for promoting Transmetropolitan.
along those lines, here are some other things you should read if you haven't:
maintaining two blogs seems like a fruitless venture.
although I can't get LJ looking quite like I want it to, the comments, friend system, and community are sort of swaying me.
at the same time, I'm attached to the blogger because I've been using it for a year and a bit already, I enjoy making my own templates without having to pay, and using blogger just scored me a GMail account.
so, I leave this to the readers.
stay on blogger, move to LJ, or rock both?
(x-posted to the LJ)
[current tally: 5 "both", 2 "LJ", 2 "get your own domain", 1 blogger]
just as I step out of the shower, I hear my phone beep.
it's a phone number I don't recognize, but appears to come from burnaby.
which means, in all likelihood, that it's for an interview.
sod.
over on Alasdair's blog, I've been nominated for several Gage E7A Awards.
categories include:
Best Guest Appearance: given in recognition of the most memorable guest appearance by a non-Gage resident.
Most Enjoyable While Intoxicated Award: given in recognition of the individual whose debauchery brought the most joy to those present at the time
The J K Rowling – Turning Our Kids Back onto Reading Award: given to the individual that has done the most to promote literacy in Quad E7A
Best Blog Award: given in recognition of recipient’s devotion to presenting an up-to-date, insightful blog that is enjoyable to read and inspires comments from readers.
awards are friday.
until then, please cross your fingers and excitedly repeat "OMG GO GERALD GO."
It's not like you have anyone else to cheer for.
Unless you're Neil.
I'd forgotten how much I hated this place.
For the last few weeks, it's been nothing more than periphery; sleep/food/clothes before I head back out to do things.
The Fair, the birthday, exams.
It's mostly over, now, and it's taken only two days to remind me why I can't stand what life becomes in Delta.
I want to live in Vancouver again, to not have to leave two hours before needing to be anywhere, to have spur-of-the-moment plans actually involve moments. I miss the kidnappings, the freedom from bus-related worry, the lack of not-so-subtle guilt trips on the ride home from the skytrain.
I'm tired of living life in shades of grey.
And my closet's still being occupied.
Tupping liberty.
post below this is about how my sister has decided to move back in with her husband.
I'm not a huge fan of him; reasons are myriad and can be found scattered throughout the archives.
also means I'm not going to game 7.
sigh.
linked comic refers to the ridiculousness of self-indulgence on public forums.
fuck, why do I even bother?
on the upside, I get my closet back.
entirely not worth it, though.
wake up.
hugs from everyone, including stupid older brother who has literally just fallen out of bed.
doctor's appointment. even though my date of birth was on four separate places, she didn't say anything. go fig.
breakfast at IHOP. we go, we eat, my mom goes to bathroom. she comes back, and we finish eating. as we're leaving, the waitress brings out a piece of cheesecake (at 10 am, no less) and says. "I've been to red robins, and I figure you're pretty embarassed about now, so I'm not going to sing."
I have no problems with this.
The table of 14 or so people behind us does, and proceeds to belt it out.
sigh.
head to metro, pick up some pants and shirts, and 15 packets of cadbury mini eggs.
say hi to an aunt, drive home from burnaby, listening to the "parents mix" which is two songs each from a bunch of artists.
get home, change, pack a bag, drive to skytrain, start trek to UBC.
get to rob's, eat, go to office get earplugs, head to wolf & hound.
on bus, get text message, "best birthday party you never showed up to"
show up.
there's nothing quite like walking into a room full of people who have congregated specifically because of you.
drink exciting mixed-beer concoctions.
graham shows up, with a flask, a bar towel. flask has tequila in it.
for a short period of time, I doublefist tequila and a snakebite (3/4 lager, 1/4 strongbow).
more drinkality ensues.
waitress interlude: she lilted.
upon finding out that it was my birthday, I received an awesome chocolate brownie, which brought my cake count up to 3.
then we drank some more.
finished the night off with a black velvet, and then off to richard's.
I'd only been to one nightclub before, and that was ages ago, so I didn't know what to expect.
first thought I had was "it's a bit like the bronze, except darker."
ran into a bunch of people I met through Rob, as well as one Rachel Elton.
didn't see tony.
rob bought me a prairie fire. jesus.
I was pretty good through the night, then I had a pair of jack and cokes before heading back to gage to crash at robs, while he slept at lana's.
which is where I woke up, and am typing this.
now, I'm off to get ready, meet Shocker Bunny for breakfast, and then write an exam.
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thanks for coming out, gang. and for everyone who didn't make it: I'm legal now, so we can do this more often!
so, just do me a favor and go listen to Air's "Talkie Walkie" if you haven't done so already.
you'll thank me later.
I'm not sure.
weather.com says there's a 70% chance of light showers, which means that the beach is definitely out.
the irish heather seems a bit weird to get to; I think I'll leave it for another day.
eaton suggested the wolf and hound, which sounds like a good call.
so, um, wolf and hound from about 6-9ish, at which point we head off to squarepusher. "we" being me rob and lana thus far, with the possibility of running into tony there. I figure most people will come out for the pub, and skip the squarepusher.
april 14. the wolf and hound is at 10th and Alma. come.
what I lacked in weak-kneed romance and wide-eyed wonder, I made up for in experience.
--
the DJs were awesome, and had constructive comments. Also, Farshad had me dancing after 12 hours on my feet - what more can I say?
--
to everyone who dealt with the beer tent fiasco: fucking amazing work. staying up on plaza was frustrating as all hell; I came out onto the bleachers a couple of times just to look down and keep myself from worrying.
--
running somewhere automatically seems to give you authority; I ran down to will call to give corbett and jayme a hand with the multitudes of people who were demanding refunds (during beer 1 troubles, so Jon couldn't send a runner), and people simply conceded to me because I ran in and sounded all official.
go figure.
--
always nice to see people I haven't seen in ages; I ran into no less than 8 people I hadn't seen in at least two years. they were hammed and I wasn't, but it was still good to see them.
--
watched AWK from the roof. holy shit awesome.
--
when you tell corbett to bite you, he bites you. ask to see the bruise if you don't believe me.
--
to those of you that met my parents: they had a good time, and you're all good kids. apparently.
--
there's more to say; there always is. I can't do a timeline here, it's been a long week, and I'd like nothing more than to fall asleep in my own bed now, which is where I'm headed. see you at ten. or not.
i'm lying on spencer's floor, and listening to quinn and spencer chat.
i hurt.
spencer claims to want nothing more than an attractive woman to massage his calves.
this amuses me.
graham dropped a coldplay mix for me.
i almost went Kennedy* on him.
of course, this would have involved running across a stage, jumping a fence, making my way on to the circle thing, and then... hugging graham.
*to go Kennedy: to become temporarily effusively happy, and (wish to) hug everyone in sight.
more later. sleep now.
I didn't believe all the hype about Franz Ferdinand before.
I do now.
This is the next CD that goes into the alarm clock.
so, spencer just asked how my parents took my outstanding inebriation of last night, and I figure it's a weird enough topic to merit an entry.
simply put: as long as I've arranged for a ride beforehand, and they know I'm drinking, it's a non-issue. I'll get some friendly harassment the next day about hangovers, but that's about it. I have been more drunk when being picked up before; the elections party in first year leaps to mind, as well as the MASS anniversary.
Why?
As far as I can tell, they know they can't stop me, so they might as well try and keep me safe.
I've also been informed that the "ride home, any time, no questions asked" policy applies to any of my friends; so if I'm around and you need a ride, just ask. they won't judge.
How'd they take it this time? They asked who spencer was (because I'd walked outside with him; iirc he was going to puke discreetly in a bush), how much I'd had to drink (I said 4 beer, which my mom said was too much. I honestly hadn't been counting.) and how the evening went. And that was it. We came home, I stumbled off to bed (and woke up in boxers and a t-shirt; I usually wear pajama pants) and we never spoke of it again.
that was an excellent party.
thanks to Spencer for hosting, and the RBF for throwing.
one thing: keg stands "for the road" are never a good idea; I was pretty sure I was going to puke until we hit the Alex Fraser, at which point I found a bottle of water. And then passed out.
...I have the power!
there's more from my sword-wielding wednesday adventures. links up as I get them from rob.
I'm down to physics and one short english paper.
However, today is far too nice to squander on work.
I'm making pancakes and going to read articles in the sun.
