Alright, so things have changed. For one, I have a rather large burn upon my left ankle due to an admittedly foolish desire to remember summer '08 through the medium of cigarette burns (then subsequently telling someone that "I ain't no bitch, light another, the burn's not big enough"). There's been no change in my maturity levels sadly (facial hair is slightly easier to acquire but your mum jokes are just as guaranteed to make me laugh (meaning giggle)). However, I have moved out of my comfort zone quite a bit. I'm in a different country at university (Boston College, in the USA. USA! USA!), which while an experience, isn't necessarily something I can see myself enjoying for 4 years.
Some things haven't changed, I still desire three things in life:
1) To know a little bit about everything in order to have something to talk about with everyone
2) To be sufficiently balanced, that when I say something, it means something
3) To try every alcohol in the world
I'm succeeding in number three.
coffee liquer? check. Absinthe? check. Port? check. Champagne? check, check check...
Number three occasionally gets you in trouble I will freely admit. Indeed, number three occasionally gets you in a great deal of trouble. Allow me to share with you the story of how I managed to get nearly thrown out of my previous institution of learning. Oh Eton...
When your high school has a game against its main rival, I think it's fair to say that you feel obligated to attend. When you're a graduating senior [B-block for the people in the know], it's nigh on mandatory to attend and support vociferously, which seems to entail a great deal of alcohol. If you're classy like all Etonians invariably are, that means 5 quid bottles of champagne, drunk out of pint glasses, of course. I suppose what it boils down to is that when you wake up on your Dame's [House Mother], couch, with the previous meaning being cheering on a friend at bat, it's a rather bad sign. However, on the plus side, it's unlikely that I'll be forgotten anytime soon at Eton. Besides one should always be thrown out of a first class stadium at some point.
So I'm landed at Boston College, and I'm meeting new people and I'm trying new things, (both with the right person, if you know what I mean. Yeah, you know what I mean ;) ). However, once my 21 year old korean roommate moved out, we had two new people move in. One, is a lovely person from North Pennslyvania and the other... well, he seemed nice. Going back to my third stated aim, I threw a minor shindig. Of course, my roommates are invited and as we make it into the wee hours of the morning, I note the shy roommate talking with the girl who's a slut when she's drunk (we all have those friends). 4 hours later when I'm on facebook, I see it's now FBO [FaceBook Offcial, where have you been?]. I eventually get the full story12 hours later. Slutty girl feels guilt over being slutty and goes on date where my roommate pulls out all his smooth moves, classics such as:
"Are we at the stage in our relationship where I should buy condoms"
"In high school, sometimes people would cut holes in the bottom of the popcorn box so they can get jiggy with it in the movie theater. Want to do that?"
"When you meet my family next week, you can't wear that coat because it displays your beautiful tits too much."
Needless to say, we call him baileys because he goes down so smooth.
I hit the blackjack on roommates, as I'm writing this my other one is at the infirmary due to overdrinking. R-E-S-P-E-C-T, that is what it means to me. My life can be summed up in one phrase at the moment:
"Elephants make the best jams, but the hippos are the marmalade masters."
Doesn't make sense? Neither does my life right now...
Loving the herons,
PK
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Friday, August 24, 2007
Breaking the ice
Scene: A private boarding school in England. It's the weekend after exams, and we're under the drinking age with an excellent fake ID. There's a nearby, albeit out of bounds Store that sells alcohol cheaply in bulk.
So my friend and I, steal away at 10:30 p.m. and bike to Tesco's, where using the aforementioned fake ID and our winning smiles we manage to purchase upwards of a 100 pints of beer and cider.
We then take a taxi back to the boarding house, stuffing the cases of beer into a duffel bag. Crawling through the window, we freeze as we hear the voice of the authority figure talking in the room next to us. Fortunately we manage to wait until he leaves and finish stuffing the duffel bags in the room.
We have the keys to the kitchen. Some brave, intrepid, silly people sneak down and place the beers in the fridge. We wait until the authority figure is inside his house, we're safe we figure. The carousing begins and having gotten through a few, we figure that it's time to go grab some more.
Another friend and I are the first to make our way down to the kitchen holding a couple of warm beers in the fridge. Where as we're struggling to make out the keyhole in the door (it was very dark, not the alcohol honest), the authority figure rounds the corner and asks what we think we're doing.
"Cooking pasta?"
"It's a little late for that isn't it..."
"totally right Sir.Good night"
As we run for it, my friend's bottle clink together...
"What's that in your hands?"
I continue walking away and tell the rest of the drinkers to run for the hills. Then I get the call to go down talk to the authority figure. I was told later that the conversation between him and m friend went something like this:
"What's that in your hands?"
"Beer"
"Why do you have beer?"
"To Drink..."
My friend is noted for his tact and sublelty.
When I talked to him.
"Do you have any more beers"
"Yes"
"Go get them from your room."
"um, they're actually in the fridge..."
"So! You were illegally chilling alcohol?!"
yes... that's the problem here. the cold beer... I mean I know it's england and all but still...
So I collect three of the beers from the fridge and drop them on his desk.
The authority figure fails to collect the keys to the kitchen ( we still have them) and fails to check the fridge. There's still 70 or so beers left in the fridge. At 4:00 a.m. there were some tired people unloading the fridge.
Apparently his in-laws were there for a week which is why he was in a bad mood. We should have offered him one of the beers.
This story is not representative of my life, sadly but it's vaguely amusing. Good opening I hope.
As a coda to that.
I did this right before he put me on the same floor as the youngest year, for the nest year (I'm going into the eldest) so as to set an example for them. The man is crazy.
So my friend and I, steal away at 10:30 p.m. and bike to Tesco's, where using the aforementioned fake ID and our winning smiles we manage to purchase upwards of a 100 pints of beer and cider.
We then take a taxi back to the boarding house, stuffing the cases of beer into a duffel bag. Crawling through the window, we freeze as we hear the voice of the authority figure talking in the room next to us. Fortunately we manage to wait until he leaves and finish stuffing the duffel bags in the room.
We have the keys to the kitchen. Some brave, intrepid, silly people sneak down and place the beers in the fridge. We wait until the authority figure is inside his house, we're safe we figure. The carousing begins and having gotten through a few, we figure that it's time to go grab some more.
Another friend and I are the first to make our way down to the kitchen holding a couple of warm beers in the fridge. Where as we're struggling to make out the keyhole in the door (it was very dark, not the alcohol honest), the authority figure rounds the corner and asks what we think we're doing.
"Cooking pasta?"
"It's a little late for that isn't it..."
"totally right Sir.Good night"
As we run for it, my friend's bottle clink together...
"What's that in your hands?"
I continue walking away and tell the rest of the drinkers to run for the hills. Then I get the call to go down talk to the authority figure. I was told later that the conversation between him and m friend went something like this:
"What's that in your hands?"
"Beer"
"Why do you have beer?"
"To Drink..."
My friend is noted for his tact and sublelty.
When I talked to him.
"Do you have any more beers"
"Yes"
"Go get them from your room."
"um, they're actually in the fridge..."
"So! You were illegally chilling alcohol?!"
yes... that's the problem here. the cold beer... I mean I know it's england and all but still...
So I collect three of the beers from the fridge and drop them on his desk.
The authority figure fails to collect the keys to the kitchen ( we still have them) and fails to check the fridge. There's still 70 or so beers left in the fridge. At 4:00 a.m. there were some tired people unloading the fridge.
Apparently his in-laws were there for a week which is why he was in a bad mood. We should have offered him one of the beers.
This story is not representative of my life, sadly but it's vaguely amusing. Good opening I hope.
As a coda to that.
I did this right before he put me on the same floor as the youngest year, for the nest year (I'm going into the eldest) so as to set an example for them. The man is crazy.
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