Birthday Ball Thoughts

When I graduated college I was pretty positive I would never be going back there during the school year.  But then, I was also positive Freshman year that I would not being going to Birthday Ball all four years I attended.  The moral of this story is: I’m often wrong.  Yes, from this post you can gather that I will be returning to Ctown next Friday in order to celebrate the birth of our great father with my dearest friends.   What brought on this change?  Well for one, I haven’t seen most of those asshole for close to ten months, and that is just not acceptable.  And two, I really needed an excuse to wear the Hufflepuff tie I bought.

Now, last year I had planned on writing about Birthday Ball, but of course, I was way too lazy and probably still drunk for days after.  So I’m making up for it now.  First I will start with why I did not want to attend Birthday Ball at all in my younger years. First: I was pretty self conscious and shy my first couple years at school.  I clearly wasn’t going to wear a dress but hadn’t yet become myself enough to say “fuck it” and show up in pants, a shirt, and a bitchin’ tie.  I’m also not a fan of crowded loud places because they give me anxiety. 

The first problem was solved when I realized that I didn’t give a fuck.  Ties are awesome and I want to wear them all the time, especially now that I have a black and yellow one with a mother fucking badger on it.  No one is looking at you when you’re having a good time with their friends.  Now I’m done dispensing this sage wisdom. 

Here is how I got over problem number two: I get really drunk.  Now, some might say, “but you do that anyway” which is true, but I generally take it to the next level.  First of all, the first step to getting into Birthday Ball is playing that you’re mostly sober enough to go in; otherwise they turn you away at the door.  (I’m pretty sure this isn’t true because I’ve never seen it happen, but always better safe than sorry).  Next is to keep acting sober enough so you can buy the drink bracelet.  This is more difficult for as you actually have to use your hands to remove your money and sometimes I drop things because my hands are numb.  (From walking there in the cold, you judgmental asshole, not because my body is numb from alcohol (unless it’s my mouth because that always goes numb)).

So there’s dancing and drinking and laughing and merrymaking, but sometimes these things aren’t enough to keep me entertained.  So for this reason I have devised games to play.  These are generally simple I Spy kind of games.  The first being: spot the drunk crying girl.  There are so many this stop being fun quickly.  I generally follow it up by playing, spot the puker.  Now this is more fun because it’s picking out the people you know are gonna vom at some point within the next four hours. Because they may look fine on the dance floor, but you know that fake resolve won’t last much longer.

Basically, I’m looking forward to going back.  I really want a Badass sandwich from Sam’s, and I want to see what awful new things are in Rose’s.  When I wrote awful I think I meant awesome.  I want to see the library renovations and how much the library probably hasn’t changed at all.  Honestly, I really just want to drink at The Bird and I’m bummed I can’t be there for Team Tuesday.  Alas I must depart Sunday and go to work on Monday.  I will probably still be drunk.