T'aint so bad. Cheap thrills abounded. I didn't really want to write about this, seeing as it would sort of immortalize an event I'd really rather forget. But then I was like, "fine, take the joy out of giving your scanty number of readers a good laugh."

I was inebriated. But let me start at the beginning. I wisely bought an overpriced slice of pizza before I went up, as well as downing a coffee. I promptly sat next to R, who really doesn't like me much, and I don't know why. Perhaps I said that he resembles Toby Maguire in every way possible too loud one day. In short, he didn't talk to me, so I talked to my good and fun aqquaintance T for a while, and claimed my one drink ticket (which I feel I had no right to- one submission? Omygod) and got a slimer. One of many slimers. They're pretty gross after a while. Anywho....the night sort of trudged up until Fenton got there, and I passed the time talking to S and crowd (though pretending to be interested in R's faux brand of chauvinism was tedious) and slamming back a few more drinks. Fenton arrives. Immediately scopes out every "hot chick" in the crowd. Gross.

We drink profusely. I hug my favorite sports dude a LOT. He's so sweet. My favorite sports dude buys me a drink for all my hug whoriness and a promise that I will help him out if he ever gets caught in a sports pinch. And really, I mean it. I would help sports dude in a second if he needed it. We egg on Ross. Sixteen beers? One night? He made it to fifteen, and my god can the kid hold it. And then, I click into mental deterioration mode. I talked with D for a LONG time, and man, he's really interesting. I could totally dig that guy if so much other shit wasn't hitting the fan around me already. Plus, I don't think he'd dig me. I have the impression I was good for an ego stroke. He kept saying, "I'm so grateful for your compliment!" He also bought me a drink. A slimer which I coyly (yeah, I think I am coy when I'm drunk, but I'm probably just a buffoon) traded for his cranberry vodka instead.D chokes down slimer in humored disgust, still keeps smiling and talking. Drink rotation to cranberry vodkas. Much better. Fenton by this point, is surrounded by people. I join in after D runs off to catch the last train. I discover I really like talking to "no head box", he's a cool guy. Also, Fenton is hilarious when drunken. But at this point, everyone seems cool to me. We stayed for EVER. We were the last people to leave. I was slightly embarrassed, but also completely caught unawares, because it cleaned out really fast.

Fenton and I decided to make a walk of it down to Whyte, and it was hilarious. I enjoyed the walk as much as I enjoyed the party, which is funny. Our cab (which I flagged, like a pro) was SO cheap. I kept giving fuzzy directions (reminders of the same weekend last year involving the Strat...eek) though, so I'm surprised he didn't kick us out to freeze in a snowbank.

And we went home. And that was it. I feel like such a huge buffoon for various reasons, but the fact remains that it is a once a year thing (ok, twice a year) so, whatever. I enjoyed it. But really, I am such a buffoon. I really felt like a slob last night too. I mean, I put effort into looking ok, but I really realized last night just how much "one of the guys" I can appear to be like when I don't dress up. Thus, no action. Next time, I will wear a skirt so I at least get authentically hit on when someone has beer goggles = the only way this ever happens.

Lastly: Fenton is a complete oddity. I will never really understand how that kid's head works. But he's a damn good friend.
  ¶ 6:25 PM