As promised
Wrapping up the week in style.
That night we reconvened in NDG for a round of Edward King-Can Hands (adapted because we felt that 40s on our hangovers would be a bit excessive). As Jordan said to me later, "Caroline, its amazing how a very mundane night like sitting around drinking King Cans of Molson Dry sounds really boring, but throw in a roll of packing tape and you make an amazing night in." We stumbled around with beer on our hands, Petie and I had an interesting bonding experience, and overall the evening went off without a hitch... that is, until I woke up on my previously single-occupancy futon to find a snoring scot to my left and another boy passed out on the couch to my right. I ended up moving and sleeping in another room, very uncomfortably.
That Thursday we mooched free pizza and I spent a blissful few hours with Curly. Over the course of this trip I must say that he was the company I most enjoyed. Every time we see each other it is as if we become closer. I can't wait until next time, which I hope will be over his reading week. I tried to convince him to come out with promises of tea and effective schoolwork, but I think we both know that it would become he and I talking until ungodly hours every night. It would be well worth it.
Thursday night was perhaps more of a gong show than my birthday, if for no other reason than because I remember all (most?!) of it. We started out at Peel Pub, and hit the wall. After a bathroom pep talk which brought to light the fact that neither of us were willing to back out, and we decided to (for lack of a better phrase) just giv'er.
We went in search of coffee, ending up at the patio of Cafe Depot on a busy street corner. After finding out our venue of choice was closed until midnight (but snagging some passes in the process), we sat down to consider our options. Petie spotted some guys she had met the previous weekend, and we all decided to grab some very cheap beer at the dep down the street - 12 beers, 5 paper bags and $12 later we were back on the corner. We stayed there through all the beers and some crazy rugby initiates.
At midnight, or just before, we finally hit the club. It was the usual insanity. I was waiting for the bar when someone offered me a beer. I warily accepted, only to be faced with a large bottle purchased for me by our new friends. The night was downhill from there. They played two of my requests (having told them it was my birthday) and I was abandoned and rediscovered time and time again. Oh the joys of Cafe Campus. Late in the night I spotted a cutie in a baseball tee hovering by the stairs. His friend caught me looking and asked whether I was interested. I played coy, but eventually ended up in his arms. A phys ed teacher and a surprisingly good kisser considering the circumstances. My drunken logic prompted me to lie and tell him I couldn't come home.
We got pizza and chocolate and bundled into a cab, home at 4am. The next morning as I lay on Petra's bed after four hours of sleep, I lamented my decision to stay alone. She laughed. "Care, I love how your drunken logic is more responsible than your sober logic." I guess that's the story of my life? Not really.
Friday I moved back into downtown, crashing my stuff at Curly's before meeting Jess for breakfast. The rest of the story is history. Friday night we hit the Bifteck for one last hurrah, and Trouble proved to live up to his name. Not enough beer and not late enough, still, I had reached the end of my rope. I came home with Curly and we stayed up all night talking. Three hours of sleep later I was dragging myself through the airport and on my way home.
That night we reconvened in NDG for a round of Edward King-Can Hands (adapted because we felt that 40s on our hangovers would be a bit excessive). As Jordan said to me later, "Caroline, its amazing how a very mundane night like sitting around drinking King Cans of Molson Dry sounds really boring, but throw in a roll of packing tape and you make an amazing night in." We stumbled around with beer on our hands, Petie and I had an interesting bonding experience, and overall the evening went off without a hitch... that is, until I woke up on my previously single-occupancy futon to find a snoring scot to my left and another boy passed out on the couch to my right. I ended up moving and sleeping in another room, very uncomfortably.
That Thursday we mooched free pizza and I spent a blissful few hours with Curly. Over the course of this trip I must say that he was the company I most enjoyed. Every time we see each other it is as if we become closer. I can't wait until next time, which I hope will be over his reading week. I tried to convince him to come out with promises of tea and effective schoolwork, but I think we both know that it would become he and I talking until ungodly hours every night. It would be well worth it.
Thursday night was perhaps more of a gong show than my birthday, if for no other reason than because I remember all (most?!) of it. We started out at Peel Pub, and hit the wall. After a bathroom pep talk which brought to light the fact that neither of us were willing to back out, and we decided to (for lack of a better phrase) just giv'er.
We went in search of coffee, ending up at the patio of Cafe Depot on a busy street corner. After finding out our venue of choice was closed until midnight (but snagging some passes in the process), we sat down to consider our options. Petie spotted some guys she had met the previous weekend, and we all decided to grab some very cheap beer at the dep down the street - 12 beers, 5 paper bags and $12 later we were back on the corner. We stayed there through all the beers and some crazy rugby initiates.
At midnight, or just before, we finally hit the club. It was the usual insanity. I was waiting for the bar when someone offered me a beer. I warily accepted, only to be faced with a large bottle purchased for me by our new friends. The night was downhill from there. They played two of my requests (having told them it was my birthday) and I was abandoned and rediscovered time and time again. Oh the joys of Cafe Campus. Late in the night I spotted a cutie in a baseball tee hovering by the stairs. His friend caught me looking and asked whether I was interested. I played coy, but eventually ended up in his arms. A phys ed teacher and a surprisingly good kisser considering the circumstances. My drunken logic prompted me to lie and tell him I couldn't come home.
We got pizza and chocolate and bundled into a cab, home at 4am. The next morning as I lay on Petra's bed after four hours of sleep, I lamented my decision to stay alone. She laughed. "Care, I love how your drunken logic is more responsible than your sober logic." I guess that's the story of my life? Not really.
Friday I moved back into downtown, crashing my stuff at Curly's before meeting Jess for breakfast. The rest of the story is history. Friday night we hit the Bifteck for one last hurrah, and Trouble proved to live up to his name. Not enough beer and not late enough, still, I had reached the end of my rope. I came home with Curly and we stayed up all night talking. Three hours of sleep later I was dragging myself through the airport and on my way home.
posted by Care @ 9:45 p.m.
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