our friends and family are drunks.

Charlee's Slice:
Saturday night I spent at home doing homework and watching It’s Always Sunny clips. I wouldn’t really say that is a sign of how lame school is making me, I would have to say that it is more a sign of how hard my friends party. Peter spent the whole day on the couch nursing a wicked hangover. What I saw of Mike, Sammy, and Connor was on the porch having some hair of the bird that bit ‘em, Bloody Mary style. Austin and Alex finally got their shit together around 4 to drive home for another party that night. Rachel, my sober buddy of the evening had a family event back in Kirkland, so she was gone pretty much all day.
For as hard as my friends may party, there is only so much fun to be had for the sober, especially when one of the party themes is “blackout or get the fuck out” as it was on Friday. The other themes included fancy cocktail attire and crazy hats. It’s been a while since I’ve really gone all out and dressed to the nines for a classy party, and Erin wasn’t even around to see me! My dress was very low cut, and had a very short skirt, and only cost me $0.99 at Ross. My purple tights received like 7 compliments; they were a good choice.
Like I said, it was a fun party, but after a while, it gets to be just too much. I left just after midnight, but since I mentioned the theme was “blackout or get the fuck out” I also wasn’t the first to retire. Alex passed out in his car before 11.
This was kind of a weird week for me. I managed to sleep through 2 of my afternoon classes. Also, the untimely death of my favorite professor has kind of put a damper on school. It’s sad to think I saw the man only hours before he died. Stupid things like pumpkin ale, Canadians, and hormone pathways keep making me think of him. It will be a while before I can have a cup of coffee and not miss having him around. He used to show up for class late, or end class early so he could get a refill of drip. The university still hasn’t officially announced it yet. Sadly, I won’t make it to his memorial service since I can’t miss yet another day of Biology, we do have a midterm on Friday after all.
My professor cancelled class on Thursday after it was announced to anthro majors. Peter and I decided to occupy that time by taking one of Renee’s yoga classes. It was good to be active even though a lot of the moves hurt my wrists. Her music selection was really refreshing, nothing “zen,” there was some sufjan stevens, and fleet foxes, and rogue wave, stuff like that which made it more enjoyable. Another reason the week was a weird onE for me: exercise.
Back to less depressing matters, well depending on how you look at it. I hang out with lushes. Andrew and Connor started drinking as soon as they got up on Sunday. I had already managed to run errands in Fairhaven and Sehome and finish an essay by noon. So when I met up with Rachel, Peter, Connor, and Andrew it was a bit much to see the later two a bit tanked by 2pm. Connor was going on about “Hand-food” (yes it is exactly how it sounds). So we took him to the Horseshoe for some lunch, happy hour, and pool. Pretty sure the waitress thinks he is a jackass, which let’s face it, he kind of is. And don’t we love him for it.
Rachel and I finished off the weekend with a concert. The cave singers headlined, and boy were they good. The moondoggies opened for them, and they just found themselves a new fan. It’s too bad I was sooo exhausted, and that it went till almost 1 am. My 8 am class schedule is really putting a damper on my concert going lifestyle. The lifeless crawl out of bed this morning was well worth it though. So was the 3/10 I got on my osteology quiz…oops! She drops your 3 lowest scores, no worries. I spent the rest of the day doing manual labor. I now have a zillion apples from the apple glean, and there is a good chance they will all go bad. Looks like I’ll be making some pie!
ps. sunday, Charlee had pumpkin pie!


Rachel’s Slice:

Whoa! Our second blog of the month—it’s been awhile since we accomplished that one! Is it really just school that’s keeping me from having the time to update you lovely readers on our crazy adventures, or am I just not as interesting as I used to be? I’ve been thinking hard on it, and I have begun to notice that I am not the wild-child I used to be. It’s been a good while since I’ve had a drunken hook-up, tumbled out of a guy’s car with my shirt on inside out, or generally just made out with a random guy at a party. Charlee and I were musing last night via text that maybe our pool of eligible men is dwindling. I’m blaming the cougars.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about the break down of gender norms that play to the patriarch and all that. Tell me this though: since when are 20something hot-body babes not good enough for Scruff-faced men under 30? The cougar has become the new ideal, or as Charlee so eloquently put: “It’s a crying shame that old hags are stealin our men. What ever happened to gracefully aging into a spinster? Now they’re botoxing their ways to slutdome!” Here I am, an apparently attractive girl, sitting at home on a Monday night watching Jenna Elfman become impregnated by a super hot 22 year-old that get this, wants to stick around??? I can’t even get a guy to call me back or go out on a second date!! So, I’m just wondering if I’ll have to wait till I’m 38 to get a 23 year old to commit to me. This makes my late twenties look even bleaker.

Whew, needed to get that little rant out of the way. Let’s talk some party re-cap shall we? Charlee and I in our sober state were really able to take in the utter ridiculousness of it all. I tied ties for boys who were too drunk to see straight, went on multiple adventures to find my safari hat and was crushed when I found out that an adorable friend of the neighbors was only 19! (So young! So full of dreams!) When Charlee started getting bored, Austin and I walked her home, the proceeded to have some bonding time together. Austin is slowly becoming my most favorite A of TripleA. I spent the remainder of the night on the front porch slightly drenched. Which didn’t seem to hurt my appearances any since Mike’s freshman year roommate offered to walk me home at the end of the night. It might have helped that Mike told him I was a “Trivia Goddess.” Now that’s a title I can get used to. There was some mud wrestling on the front lawn, and a run in with the cops before we all hauled in from the warm rainstorm. Being the only sober female, I took it upon myself to convince Conner he should probably let me clean the dirt and leaves off of his bleeding arm. I finally made the five house trek home when I simply couldn’t take listening to Andrew awaken from his drunken slumber on the couch to inform us that “Jurassic Park could happen,” every time there was a loud change in the soundtrack. At first, I tried to let the guy down easy, tell him that the possibility of viable DNA just wasn’t there. He told me that if they can clone sheep they can clone dinosaurs. I actually had a crush on this guy six years ago??!!

The Battle in Seattle was last Saturday. It was the first I’d gone to, as well as the first at which my University wasn’t involved. No, of course I wasn’t there to cheer my Vikings to their Valhalla of victory—I was there to watch my sister and the DanceCats shake their pom-poms. I went with Kate, Alex and Tyler to the game, driving the four of us from Kate and Al’s in West Seattle to Safeco. They drank their Bud Lights and I tried desperately not fall asleep. We snuck into the Club Level, mostly because it’s ingrained in our DNA to find the nearest bar. I was barely able to make it out of there sober, and had to tell them that the reason I was going back up to Bellingham that night instead of bar hopping with them was because there was a nice gentleman that I was really hoping might be the one to take me off the market. Lies of course, since I ended up coming home to watch the first half of Ugly Betty with Charlee and hang with Peter, Mike, Sami, Andrew and Conner for another evening. Again, Charlee and I were the sober ones. I stayed till two, tucked Andrew in on the couch, said my good-nights, and blissfully for the first time in months slept in till almost noon. Charlee gave you the happenings of Sunday already, and there wasn’t much else to add. Apparently though, besides being a Trivia Goddess, I’m kind of Mom-ish. After it came to light that I was the one to clean up Connor’s war wounds and the frosting from his ear *and* tuck Andrew in with a blanket—Connor decided to take it upon himself to call me Mama for the rest of the weekend. Whatevs, it’s better than Wifey.

Well, let’s hope not much is going on for the remainder of the week, too much more of this crazy life and I’d probably pass out in the middle of class. Keep it classy, dear Readers(as in, don’t drink boxed wine out of a Diet Coke can that you bought with the explicit hope to emulate your favorite TV show since your life has no direct meaning or purpose of its own. This by no means is a diss on a certain TV show, simply one on a certain misguided fan).

XOXO, Rachel