Bars that suck
I made a horrible mistake Friday night. First, I went to Opies. If you're a Normanite, you know the gravity of this poor decision. After narrowly escaping the lure of the mirrored dance floor, the gang headed to Seven47, a popular bar on campus corner. Actually, it's really a haven for Shain and I to drink Hendricks and tonic and confuse the waitress when we ask for cucumbers because we are pretentious pricks. Last time Shain and I were there (last week, so?) we couldn't stop commenting on the amazing number of bartenders, barbacks, and waitstaff that kept pouring out of the clown car of a bar. They were hydrating and caffeinating as if preparing for an exam or something. Now I know why. Seven was a fucking shit show Friday night. That place blows serious balls. Fucked up drunk chicks + retardedly high heels = a hot, clumsy mess. It smelled like a frat basement, piss and all. You couldn't walk without your feet sticking to the floor, if you could walk at all. Sure, they have $2 Pabst, but I drew the line when I had to wait 20 minutes in the longest bathroom line ever only to be cut off by two drunk bitches who literally pushed me. PUSHED ME. I flipped my shit in the only way I know how. I yelled something sarcastic and got the girl behind me on my side who pulled them out of the stall. I stole their TP in the meantime.
Yay Sam! As I awaited the announcement from ESPN, I couldn't help but notice the difference in quality in the little bios prepared for each candidate. Colt's from small town America, but with a big heart. Sam played all kinds of sports and was a cute kid. Tim performs surgical procedures on orphans in Manila. Oh, blow me. Also, Sam won, so suck it. Gators are goners.
My roomate is getting married on Saturday. His bachelor party was Saturday night. I was told the after party would take place at our place (the only evidence that I can find that even a modicum of fun was had is a blow up doll that's currently staring at me - I'm not sure that's a good sign), so I vacated to the 'rents house for the night so they could party in peace (e.g. without me trying to drink all their shit and DJ). It was weird sleeping in my old bed. And far more comfortable. Which leads me to this landmark decision. I want to get married. Considering the recession, I'm pretty sure it's the only way I'll ever get anything I need to, you know, live life. Roommate is taking his washer and dryer to the new place on Thursday. WTF! I have to buy my own now? Is it cool to handwash everything in the kitchen sink? They're like more than $100, which is my limit for any expediture. He's also taking the coffee table. And a lot of other shit. Blast! I got rid of almost everything in a bizarre personal belongings holocaust back in the MA, so I really don't have much, nor do I need much, except, you know a bed that works and a washer and dryer. If anyone has one they're looking to sell, let me know! I'm in a funk about this. Why isn't it kosher to register when you get out of school, get a real job and realize how fucking broke you are? That's when you need shit. Not 10 years from now when I've bullied someone into a shotgun wedding.
I know it's stupid, but I don't want any of my friends to be friends with the ex boyfriend, especially since he's yet to respond to the card that I sent on his b-day in my effort to be mature and adult and all that shit. Petty, yes. Rational, no. I would really like to not be reminded of his existence if possible. And now I am. Blech.
Smith is weird
I caught wind of Smith's reveal of the new mascot/spirit mark/I'm not really sure via Facebook. I headed over to the college website to encounter this video. I just don't get it. I don't think I'm impressed. I know that much. Also, I know that when Smith does weird shit, or drops in rankings, I want to call them and ask for my money back. I feel like* I went to a different Smith.
*Trademarked Smithie talk.
Things to come
My top eight songs of 2008. Excited yet? You should be.