Homecoming. Seriously.

Remind me never to go out for Homecoming ever again. I drank too much (shocker), and spent four hours of my life at the Times that I will never get back. When I left my place to go out on Friday night, I knew that the combination of the Times and what turned out to be a god-damned CUA reunion would not be a good one. I don't know that I actually had a real conversation all night, as no one was really interested in anything anyone had to say. It was all "remember that time freshman year when..." and "one time at this party junior year I..." I woke up on Saturday morning in Chevy Chase at a house with eighty thousand people in it and had to walk about a mile in heels to the Metro to get back home. I think I scared a few passengers along the way, as I didn't even look in the mirror before I left MD. (And no, Cary, I did not make out with any freshmen.) I finally got home, saw that I looked like the bride of Frankenstein, scrambled some eggs, and drank some coffee before settling in on my couch to waste an entire day watching shitty movies on Comedy Central. I actually watched Bubble Boy. I really didn't have any food in the house, either, but I couldn't move to go out and get something. So I ate chickpeas and Wasa crackers for dinner. The whole experience might have been better had I been able to participate in any Homecoming festivities on Saturday, but the perma-nausea and mild vertigo I experienced from the hangover prevented me from joining in any reindeer games. Considering that I spend my days in school and rarely drink anything harsher than orange juice any more, I am surprised to be conscious right now. So there's my Homecoming story. I know all of you in NYC and Chicago and Europe, etc. are really jealous that I had oh-so-much fun this weekend, but we all can't live the dream like I do...