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Friday night’s party was largely a success. I’m not exactly sure how many people showed up (I would estimate forty), but the party paid for itself, which is a good thing. Of course, that money doesn’t help return our house to a state of normalcy (let alone Iowa).

I was pleasantly surprised by the number of English department people who showed up… I take back all those mean things I said about you and your inability to have a good time, peeps. Then again, several of the second-year TAs I expected to see were no-shows, so that was a little disappointing. You hearing me Colette/Ryan/Luke/Betsy/James/Zach? Puppies in heaven are crying because you didn’t show up. Jebus might be forced to put one of them down, too. I hope you’re happy.

I was also simultaneously disappointed in and surprised by the Sociology department crowd. Lorenzo and Nick both chickened out, though both sent me apologetic instant messages the next morning. Despite their obvious shortcomings in the testicular area, Dwight, my ex-boss and new drinking buddy, ~did~ make an appearance. Justin, master of subtlety, announced Dwight’s arrival with an exclamatory, “Hey, who’s the OLD guy?”

Other interesting tidbits from the evening:

We made it through two kegs and a case, which isn’t bad considering several persons of female persuasion brought their own flavor of suds.

I got in two mock-fights (we were both laughing pretty hard) with Scott, a something-belt in Tae Kwan Do, which resulted in legitimate pain the next day (it seems I like to land on my left side). I believe I held my own fairly well, undoubtedly aided by alcohol, that great leveler of playing fields, wherein someone with training in Tae is a worthy adversary to someone who plays Mortal Kombat during study breaks. I simultaneously hope he ended up a little sore (I did, after all) and hope he wasn’t ~too~ sore (I think he had a match the next morning).

Six of us (Me/Lisa/Sam/Sammie/Justin/Kelsey) made an obligatory run to Perkins around 4am for pancakes. Proving I’ve spent too many late nights in Perkins lately, several of the people working recognized me. To make the story better, the same guy cashed me out eight hours later during Perkins run #2.

One of Sam’s friends named Aaron passed out on the couch while most of us were at Perkins and woke up without any eyebrows. He then passed out again and woke up bald, save for a small ‘tail’ in the back. He was less than amused the next morning.

I wore my contacts for over forty hours straight, and they didn’t bug me at all, even with the fog machine going while simultaneously hanging out with smokers. My eyes seem to be adjusting really well this time ’round. :)

There’s more I could say, but it’s bedtime. G’night, all.