this is my dull life. this is my dull life on drugs. this is a haiku.

Saturday, March 18, 2006

Our house is broken. [PICTURES/VIDEO!]

Every party we host seems to be a learning experience.

One of the invaluable house party lessons of yesterday evening was this: Do not ever, under any circumstances whatsoever, throw a party -- an event at which drunk and unreasonable people are prevalent and encouraged -- Do not throw one of these things when you are low on toilet paper. Trust me. Once your stock runs out, people tend to improvise and get "creative", to the detriment of those who own the house.

Here's the damage for the night:
  • broken screen door
  • 3 broken windows
  • glass in my bed
  • someone's barf in Andre's bed
  • 3 gallons of water in Coleman's bed
  • like 7 of Andre's shirts ruined
  • a towel with -- ugh -- on it (hint: it was in the TP-less bathroom)
  • downstairs bathroom door ripped off

It's hard to decide where to begin. Let's see... As alluded to yesterday, I ripped my pants before heading out to the biochemistry faculty mixer. Being that I was already pretty intoxicated, I elected to leave the same pants on and just head over to the mixer as-is (see picture below). In hindsight, it was one of my patented BAD ideas to go to a social event in a pair of pants which left my boxers showing, especially considering that my profs and the head of the department were also going to be there. So I show up wearing the most attention-seeking get-up possible, consisting of a reflective green novelty vest, an orange construction hat, and a squirt bottle full of booze at the hip. I didn't buy a single drink the whole time -- just made my own rum & cokes. They let it slide since it was my birthday :)

So at some point I decided that it would be a good idea to go talk to Dr. Mulligan, the head of the department (extreme right in picture below). This man's a great guy, having always been cool to me, since I get like 90s in his classes and I talk to him fairly often. But, this being said, he IS pretty straight-laced and proper, so he doesn't drink. So I go up and join in on his circle. A few minutes later, there's a lull in the conversation, and one of the secretaries from the Biochem office just says "Oh dear...". I look down and see that my pants are hanging particularly wide open on the right-hand side, exposing pretty much my whole leg up to the belt-level. Still sitting in the circle with the faculty, I quickly take off my reflective green novelty tie and use it as an elastic to wrap around my leg and hold my pants together. From my (perhaps distorted) viewpoint all seemed to go well from there, and as the mixer wound down I mentioned to some of the professors (half jokingly) that there was a party at 12 Hatcher afterwards.

Back at our house, things began to get fuzzy. I know that we walked home around 8pm, bringing a trail of people with us. I also know that Dr. Nag, the prof for my Biological Membranes class, did show up and was drinking at our house until like midnight. Since I don't feel like telling the story of the whole night, nor am I even reasonably capable of doing so, I'll let the pictures do the rest of the talking. I only have those from the pre-party portion of the night, since my camera went MIA for quite a stint once people started arriving. Due to the lack of evidence of both a cognitive and photographic nature, I feel I need to stress this: The place was apparently packed. Pretty much our whole three-floor house was packed shoulder-to-shoulder. Lovell says that I personally spent half the party standing/dancing on tables, and this was simply because it was the most efficient means of transportation. It would literally take the non-table-oriented folk several minutes to make it across the room, given that every surface was occupied by the throngs of swaying drunks. Estimates from the people I've talked to place the numbers at between 80 and 100, but it's hard to say since not everyone was in the same room. There were people in everyone's bedrooms, on the deck, in the driveway, crammed into the living room and kitchen -- You name it. OK, so on to the pictures!

Before going to the mixer, we did some setting up. Since we don't own a vacuum cleaner, we found some pretty nasty scenes under the couches we tried to move. Instead of actually cleaning it up, we just shuffled furniture around (bringing up the couch from my room) so that space was maximized, while all the exposed dusty spots were minimized. Looks pretty clean in the end, doesn't it? I assure you that it's all an elaborate deception.

I found an old lamp which, despite being extremely fun to play with, had somehow managed to elude any of us tenants since we'd moved in, way back in September. I found it under a bunch of crap in the front closet, and immediately began swinging it around with reckless abandon. I was smacking it into walls and furniture and people for quite some time before it lost my interest. I rediscovered it this morning and plugged it in as we talked in the living room. Periodically, when conversation would start to die down a bit, I'd just be like "Well... back to work." and then I'd throw this big friggin lamp over my shoulder and just stand in the middle of the room with it dangling by my waist. I also wore it around for a good few hours as I cleaned the house, since the long cord gave me a pretty good range of motion. Maybe I'll wear it to class on Monday...

For reasons beyond my current sober-state comprehension, Andre and I were head-butting each other for a few minutes. Yeah, I know... I'm blatantly feeding the stereotypes for college-aged males, but what else can I do? Not head-butt people, you say? But that's preposterous! I was wearing that hardhat all night, and since there happened to be an old hockey helmet floating around too, the stage was set and it was just waiting to happen.

Me and Andre and Ash getting/being drunk before the party. Nuff said.

The next morning, since a bunch of our clocks had been changed, I barged into Ashley's room claiming that it was 11AM instead of 9. I changed her clock to the "correct" time. When she figured it all out, she got kinda mad at me because she'd forced herself to get up when she thought it was so late in the day. Mhen. Loves ya Ashley!

So yeah, we (Chipper, Ashley, Alisha, Coleman, Andre, Kim and me) sat around all morning trying to piece the night together, before moving on to the cleaning/repairing. I've got a video of Coleman explaining what Andre had been doing after some unknown jerks threw an iceball through his window and shattered it. I think it's pretty funny. Just to let you know though, the mention of me and poop was based on a previous conversation that we'd been having, and is in no way -- I repeat, no way -- based on reality! I guess that since my recollection of the evening was so hazy, they'd tried to get me to believe that something had happened when it hadn't...