This past weekend was spent in epic fashion. Not only did it involve copious amounts of alcohol, full contact frizbee and more people than I could shake a stick at, but it also lasted 5 days, 4 of which I did not go to sleep before 4 a.m. That’s what I’m talking about. Here’s the play-by-play for the first three days:
Saturday
I left work around 3:00 which allowed me to roll into town around 5:45. It was a wonderfully beautiful day and all I wanted to do was have a big ole fire at my parents house and chill outside drinking beer until the wee hours of the morning with friends. Clearly I had forgotten one of the reasons I had come home: dance recital. Had it started at a normal time, like 6 or 7, we would have been golden. But it started at 8, which destroyed the campfire plans. Fail.
Still determined to salvage the evening, I picked up a case of beer that would serve me well and headed over to Stephs. She was the one dancing and had to leave by 7:30, and true to form, in the 1 1/2 hours that I was there I had already had about 6 beers. It was going to be a good night.
AlexMac and I met up to go to the dance thing which was awesome. I have gone to a few down here but always forget how amazing they are at colleges that actually have a dance program. Included in the program were two well-done dances to Fleetwood Mac songs, a strange dance to CSNY that involved crackheads trying to move chairs around the stage but epically failing and a freaking sweet rendition of Thriller. Seriously. The zombies came down the aisles and a middle aged woman in front of me almost had to be rescued by EMTs. It was fantastic.
By the time we got out of there, it was going on 11 and none of us had eaten. The girls had to go and get changed, and while we were at the apartment I chugged about 4 more beers. We called up some friends, grabbed some pizza and headed to someones house to watch Role Models, which was surprisingly a lot better than I thought it was going to be, partly because it looked kinda dumb but mostly because it has Sean Williams Scott in it. I have to say though, it wasn’t too bad. I think this had to do with the fact that while watching it, I continued to drink. And eat lots 0f pizza.
When we were finally kicked out at 3:30, everyone wanted to go home and go to bed. I, however, did not. I conned a couple of people to go with me to the greenway of the college campus where they were having their annual Relay for Life so that we could bug some of the walkers that I know. While it started out innocently enough, it ended with Steph walking me home and saying things like, “Zach, be quiet, people are trying to sleep.” To which I would respond, screaming “Fuck it! They can wake up! WAKE UP! IT’S MORNING!”
Time that I finally fell asleep: 5:20 a.m.
Total number of drinks: 18 beers and 2 shots of home-made cinnamon liquor.
Sunday
Since Sunday technically ran into Saturday night, my real day Sunday started at about noon with a breakfast at Friendly’s. Only it wasn’t breakfast. Apparently that ends at like 11. Fucking Friendly’s. So instead of an omelette of goodness, I had a “Portabella Fajita Quesadilla.” It was good, if a bit confusing. I think I am going to write Friendly’s a letter explaining that you cannot have a fajita quesadilla because they are two different things. This would be like ordering a large plate of spaghetti lasagna. Doesn’t work Friendly’s, sorry.
We got some killer ice cream and chilled on the aforementioned greenway which included a glorious hangover nap before heading to a wind ensemble concert. It was pretty badass. I had a banquet for my brother’s high school rifle team and was cutting it close for time, so I had to leave right after the concert. It was a nice day and I had a little extra time so I decided to take the scenic route home, which was a good choice because about a quarter of the way home I tried to stop and my break pedal just kept…going. All..the..way..to..the..floor. Awesome. I realized when I got home that I had no brake fluid in my car, which was not a good thing because I started the trip with a full reservoir.
I didn’t let this slow me down, however. I stole my dads car and went back to the Land O’ Friends for a zombie movie night. Except two of the people were shopping. And one was asleep. So, instead of watching a movie, AlexMac, myself and someone else sat in AlexMac’s car in a parking lot for 45 minutes, making fun of the ghetto-tastic people going to the A Plus across the street, the hookers, and eventually reenacting Resident Evil I and II.
Finally everything was in order, everyone showed up and regained consciousness and we started watching movies. I made it through the first Resident Evil with no problem. By the second one, though, I was beat and fell asleep. Bad choice. This led to waking up with Utter Butter on my forehead. Other things probably happened that I don’t know about, and that’s probably for the best. I ended the night back at AlexMacs and passed out on the couch.
Time I finally fell asleep: 4:00 a.m.
The rest of the week-end extravaganza will be updated in the next day or two–I’m still pretty tired and quite honestly tired of typing.
So there.
Posted in Amigo/as, Baby-Jugga, End of the World, Happy Face, Home, Oh My!, Partying, Trolls!
Funkin’ it up
•20 April, 2009 • Leave a CommentI’m in a funk.
I’m not one to complain, but the last week or so have been miserable for me. The weather has been nice, work has been going well, I’ve been reading and writing and running often. I have no real reason to feel as miserable as I do, and yet…I’m still in a funk. This has caused me to think a whole lot about what I am trying to do with my life. My career choice. What I want in a family. How I spend my free time. And I’ll tell you what–the answers I have found have not been very reassuring.
Take my career choice, for example. I want to be a philosophy professor. I enjoy doing the work, I enjoy the research and from the little bit of teaching I have done, I will enjoy that too. I have no doubt that I will get into grad school in the next few years and do very well there. I have no doubt that I will love every minute of it. And yet…it all seems very hollow. Sometimes it feels as if all philosophy is doing is building a nice shiny outer wall of words to protect the inner void. I’ve said this as long as I have been in philosophy: all I do is argue very well for shit that I just made up. The best philosopher is the one who can convince everyone else that s/he is right. And I don’t like that.
Now, this isn’t really the crux of the problem. The problem is that I see any possible career choice as being just as pointless. I’ve done the hypothetical “I could go back to school. What would I go for” game and every answer turns out to be faced with the same amount of nihilistic pessimism. Why should I do x for the rest of my life? For the good of humanity? For a paycheck? To pass the time? There’s a saying in political science circles: “if your young and republican, you’re heartless; if you old and liberal, you’re stupid.” I think I am finally growing out of my young, idealistic self and into the self that begrudgingly accepts where I am. I’m done trying to fool myself that I’m going to revolutionize academia. I’m done pretending that I can change the world. But this, in the face of a generation that was told we could do anything, change everything, save everyone? A generation built on Space Needle sized dreams and high octane ambitions, what are we left with when it all comes crashing down?
Regardless of the fact that I will never change the world through writing about Heidegger, regardless of the fact that my thesis won’t help end child abuse, and regardless of the fact that philosophy is 60% speculation, 20% sophistry, 15% accurate and 5% bullshit, I still enjoy it. And maybe that’s as close as any of us can get to satisfaction. The error of our generation isn’t that we can’t save everyone and create world peace; the error is that we think we need to achieve these things to be happy.
Posted in Epiphany, Explosions, Huh?, Oh My!, Social Commentary