Sunday, October 21, 2007
Pissing Off The Locals, Or The Adventures Of A College Student
It's only been two months, but I already feel like I've been at college for years. Over all, I've had fairly good luck. I have yet to get an hour (working in the kitchen. The penalty for breaking a rule) for anything, which is saying quite a lot. Most of my friends have served several, and one of them has already campused for too many curfew violations (yes, we have a curfew. Yes, if we're late we have to climb in through windows and things in a manner reminiscent of boarding school. So retarded). I also have yet to suffer the pain of a hangover, even though I've been doing some pretty hardcore drinking.This week alone has been crazy. We had our equivalent of fall break, and I spent a goodly amount of it partying. I barely slept in my own bed, had to run from hicks with guns twice, and maintained a good buzz for most of it. We're not allowed to drink on campus, which means we end up huddling over handles of vodka in various dirt patches down the road. We tried to spend one night on top of a mountain, but got chased off by a hick in a white jumpsuit (no, I'm not kidding) with a handgun. We ended up shivering the rest of the night through in one of the aforementioned dirt patches.
Friday, therefore, we decided to play it safe (or so we thought), and just walked up the trail a bit to a spot fondly known as the Drunkrocks. Having established ourselves there, we proceeded to get nicely plastered on vodka and shots of tequila. A few of the boys decided to go back before the rest of us, so we watched them walk away. About ten minutes later, Jake (one of the boys) called and told us to "Get in a group and start praying." We started receiving texts from them saying, "Stay at the rocks," and "Hide." This was more than enough to make the less sober among us (which actually would be all of us) start panicking. Picturing things from farmers with guns to cops to Satan and his entire fucking army, we started to pack up and run. Or try to run, anyway. The Rocks are known as the Rocks for a reason, and they are not easy to navigate in the dark even when you're stone-cold sober. Which we were decidedly not. Furthermore, we had a girl with us who just had surgery on her ACL, and had to be carried.
Turns out, all that was going on was domestic violence at the ranch on the way to the Rocks. On their way back, the boys had heard women screaming for help there, and had called the police. Nobody was coming after us, but the boys were too drunk to convey this properly. Needless to say, we were ever-so-slightly pissed off at them for scaring us like that.
So I've had a pretty interesting week. Alas, it was last week, and this week classes have resumed. There are also about twenty fires in southern California, eight or so of which are near the campus. Oh well, at least we haven't burned down yet, right?
And there you have it. Exciting Things That Have Happened To Me Recently. At least I was nicely buzzed for most of them. Because when you're sober, things are just boring and depressing. Actually, sobriety itself could be said to be boring and depressing. That's why it's called "sober." People just take life too seriously when they're in that state. And taking life, or for that matter, anything too seriously is something to be avoided indeed. That way lies uptightness, judginess, and general inability to lighten up and have fun.
I just realized I'm getting way too serious about not taking life seriously. In other words, I'm turning into the kind of person I hate by trying too hard not to be that kind of person.
Wow. I think that's a pretty good sign I need to sign off and go back to the real world for a bit, before I type myself into utter confusion and despair. Wailing and gnashing of teeth. And whatnot. See you later.
Spudge at 3:53 PM