2001-01-21 - 23:19:33
Wow. The party last night was cool. Either that, or it's been way too long since I last partied at that level. (Which could very well be, because I haven't really gotten as into the swing of any party so far this year.) There was loud music, drunken dancing, fairly good dancing, people brooding in the corner, people making out in a chair, people crying for the people making out in the chair to get a room, people crying for no apparent reason, people smoking something illegal upstairs, people drinking next door, some freak running around in painted pants with two pairs of women's pantyhose on his arms and dancing like an idiot, people crying for readily apparent reasons, me walking in on two chicks using my room as an impromptu spot to kiss and make up and then kiss a make up some more, more blatant lesbianism in the hallways, Bohemian Rhapsody, more alcohol than I care to admit, the Time Warp, minors who had had too much puking in the first-floor toilet, people attempting to cheat on their significant others, people succeeding in said cheating, lecherous alums, brooding and anti-social alums, clingy drunks, prudish drunks, and the campus authorities busting in to find a flagrant alchol policy violation.
All in all, a night to remember. And I'm probably one of the only people who will remember that much of it. That's the problem with parties, although not being able to remember how much fun you supposedly had is a great impetus for doing it all over again as soon as possible. I think the next party we have should be a nostalgia-themed party. "Remember all those great parties we used to have? Neither do we. So let's get drunk and dance like white people."
And yes, I went to bed alone. And stayed that way. So don't bother asking. And I don't wanna know who you scored with, either. Whether you're happy about it or whether you rolled over in the morning, opened your eyes, and started screaming. I just don't care.
I got another book signing from the average girl I told you all about. I was enthused to the highest order. As soon as I finish here, I'm off to start reading her diary to find out who the hell she is.
I got to go to breakfast with George today before he left. Even though it did involve getting up at 8:40 or so. I find that drinking heavily does wonders for my appetite. Food never tastes quite as good as breakfast the morning after getting rip-roaring drunk. Instead of getting a hangover, I just find that I happen to love the taste of biscuits and gravy and bacon. Go figure.
Okay, I'm not being particulary amusing right now, so I'm going to quit torturing you all.
Ken
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