Ayn Rand

Last night, Pat Kidist and I thought it would be a really effective use of our time to argue about the value, definition, and motivation of work for about three hours in the middle of the night.
We didn't have much to do; we've been particularly bored lately. Kidist is simply working on a 10 page paper due at 9am, Pat on a 10 page philosophy due this evening, and me on a 25 pg thesis intro due in 6 days. So, as is evident, we really had plenty of time to discuss the meaning of life far into the wee hours of the morning.
We also, absolutely, solidified the LS and Play reputation while sitting at the Dude shooting the shit for three hours (albeit quite passionately) with our books mockingly open and unread on our desks.
I'm not quite sure how this started, or if we came to any agreement, nor even a semblance of understanding of each others points - but i do know one thing: our pronunciation of Ayn Rand's first name were both wrong. It's "I-ne", rhyming with "mine" - not Ann or Ayne.

Pat napped on an empty beer case, justin on a stolen road cone...

Yesterday was perhaps one of the best, most prototypical "college" days I can remember. Justin, Kidist, Pat, Derrick, and Alejandro all came to my softball game (which I BARELY played in). They cheered like idiots and I was really touched they came. Then, we all went "garage saling" - unsuccessfully. - then went home and napped in the boys TRASHED living room through two movies. Let me detail their house:

-Two stolen road signs (one of which I did with Justin, other just appeared), both massive, one almost completely blocking a stairway
-Two massive road CONES, also stolen
-One smaller road cone
-100+ empty beer cans on the floor
-Smashed in projection screen TV (with smaller, 20inch TV sitting in it working)
- Shards of screen all over the floor
-Chairs flipped over
-Smashed bar stools

...this was the state of the living room when we all returned to it and decided to nap ON TOP of it all. Justin and Pat and I were on the floor, Alex on one couch, Kidist on another, and Jesus in the chair. Justin was wrapped in a sleeping bag, out, and snoring within minutes, using a small road cone as a pillow. Pat was identical, minus the snoring, and switch the road cone for an empty beer case. I bas between the two of them, in pats blanket, having cleared the carpet of beer cans and screen shards, and buried my face, laughing, into the beer-smelling pillow of Justins purple jacket. ....

One of the perks of sleeping with someone you live with is that you can go storming off to your room at all hours in just a pair of socks...

McDonalds Frosties Perhaps Will Get Me Laid

I don't have much more to say than that. I could not have more interesting, attractive men in my life and I could not be happier. I miss aspects of being a relationship to be sure, but I do not intend to give up kissing on fire escapes, being tackled with lips pursed in bathrooms, or licking frosty off good-friends faces. This is going to be one INSANE year. Happy there are still 11 more months of it. ;)

Mini Fridge, permanent marker, and an ex boyfriend who used to jump naked on his bed pretending to be a chimpanzee....

I opened my old mini-fridge today, for the first time in over a year, and found quite the surprise. There was a love-note, from Pete, in freakin permanent marker, ALL over the inside of the fridge. He's insane. He had written quotes, song lyrics, and the names of our "children" (Walter - our son, embodied in a neon blue mini stuffed bunny; Jenny - the 'lost' daughter we could never find; Francios - my plant; and Rhett). He also wrote a note to me: "Everytime you open this I want you to think of Cedar Point and eating ice cream with me afterwards. Good time, great year, fucking amazing girl. Love, Boy."
I miss that, I miss flying off to Mexico on a whim and stealing from Whole Foods and sating a guy who loves and laughs at life and showers me in the most over-the-top, obnoxious sorts of love and who isn't afraid to take permanent marker to the inside of a fridge.

Pat, Justin, & Alejandro made my weekend. (Sexy lip-ringed latino is baaaack... i'm spoiled senseless with attractive males populating that house next door...) The football game was a Michigan blow out, complete with flasks. The rest of the weekend resulted in a plethora of bruises and blood, a bunch of rolling around drunk on the pavement and in bushes, being bitten on the neck by Justin in a bar, and having a MOM covering our whole tab (5 college kids drinks AND nachos) because justin was hitting on her, under the guise of asking for college advice for her disinterested and embarassed 14 yr old son. (yeah ok that was an incoherent sentence with absolutely improper grammar. you get the point; justins a man whore, we're the pimps that get his extra perks)
Continuing with the weekend... Pat went missing (was found and returned to the game, drunk, by a kind person), we had a 90's music dance party, moved a 50 inch projection screen TV in the pouring rain, and rode 4 people in the back of a 2 seater BICYCLE taxi for two blocks. If only it ended there: kissed alejandro outside the boys house, attended a pudding party, started dating Charlie again, and had Pat and Justin fighting (quite aggressively at some points) drunk in my bed. On that note, a few great lines from Justin: "Pat, were gonna fuck this bitch tonight!" "I have a booooooner" and then having to call Pat, who got freaked out by his sidekick and left, to take drunk, babbling, aimlessly humping, Justin out of my bed and back upstairs. (PS, Justin and Kidist slept together last night. I feel this might become a recurring byline in these posts.)
I will never forget the image of Pat walking back into my room, in boxers and a white tee shirt, and going "Come on dude, get up, she fucking CALLED me to get you out of here!"