Damn the Man, Part II

The police stole my sword!

currently playing: Propaganda — Duel

Halloween on Franklin!

I think that there’s a city ordinance that specifies that no skirt may be allowed to come below the knee on Halloween…

Oh you've got grey eyes

Laura mixing it up old school down on the East Side, hanging out with the kids and laying down some flava.

I'm so very sorry.

Horses On Franklin!

Another normal day in Chapel Hill

Poor Old Johnny Ray

No pumpkin carving yesterday. Oh well. When Ms. Hirst rose from her slumber and rushed off to work, I went to meet up with Srav and Stacie. We spent the afternoon eating and watching Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind, which thankfully was as good as I remember it being. Then, off to Harris Teeter because I couldn’t be bothered to go eat somewhere, and to try and find a pumpkin. Luckily, I couldn’t find any; I was sad on the way back to Laura’s, but then it occurred to me that I had no idea how I was going to carry a huge pumpkin over a distance two miles without looking stupid or needing a half-hour shower afterwards.

Laura spent the first part of the night talking to me at an angle; she couldn’t look directly at my macaraed and glittered face without cracking up. Tsh. Although she did say that I did a decent job with the mascara (my first attempt!). And then laughed some more. The dance itself was fun; lots of good costumes, great music (and dodgy stuff too, but of course), and it even overran by half-an-hour. Hurrah!

There then followed a brief tour of Wal-Mart at 2am, so Laura could get hold of some hair dye for her costume tonight, and for the pair of us to look very strange on the security tapes. An original way to end a lovely night out.

(This morning? Helping apply tattoos, being second opinion on dyeing issues, and decorating the apartment in a spooky fashion…)

Damn The Man

So, last night then. Let me start by telling you the title of the party we were going to:

The Republican Log Cabin Sex Party. With Maple Syrup Wrestling.

Erm, yes. Apparently, some of Laura’s friends like to hold parties coinciding with Republican events; to blacken their name, or just any excuse for a party.

I’m also not kidding about the maple syrup wrestling. I saw it with my own eyes. I am going straight to hell, but I saw it with my own eyes.

It was an interesting night, but another of my “if you can’t say anything then hang around in the corner and not say anything ever and get depressed even though it’s your own stupid fault” nights. To be fair, it started out well, but when we got to Collin’s house, I went back into my shell (Larsy, a roommate of Collin, scares me. She seems like a very fiery Russian who’d walk fifty miles in a snowstorm to stab you if you cut her up on the road. I’m sure she’s a very nice person really ;-)), and stayed there for most of the night. We were taken to the party by Hot Steve (as he became known to the rest of the group, even if we never saw much of him again after we got there), and I was determined not to be the Guy Who Follows The Rest of The Group Like A Lost Dog. I saw a few people whom I knew when I was studying here, and watched the wrestling.

Yeah. Sorry to keep harping on about that. But seriously — syrup everywhere, complete with hosing afterwards to make sure the t-shirts were completely see-through. Oh, and people videotaping the affair. So, girl 1 and girl 2: yes, you’ll soon be seen on a website somewhere…

Of course, these things do tend to be frowned upon somewhat, and when the police showed up to make everybody go inside, the party lost quite a bit of its energy, with most people heading off to pastures new. My excellent plan left me ending up as The Guy Who Stands Alone And Looks At The Knife With An Intent To End It All, so I decided to call it quits and become a hapless follower.

The last hour or so that we were there was okay, though. Laura was trying to convince us that she wasn’t drunk, but sadly, every attempt she made backfired horribly. Especially when it took her five minutes to find her pockets (and this was after we had pointed them out to her). We then left, had a odd wander around Harris Teeter, then went back to Collin’s. It looked like we were going to spend the night there, and to be honest, we did, I suppose. Collin got blankets out for myself and Laura, but at 5am, Laura called over and asked if I wanted to go back to her place.

After a rejigging of the cars in Collin’s drive, we headed home. Chapel Hill is lovely at five in the morning; almost deserted, and just as beautiful as it is during the day, but with an added ghost town feeling. And kudos to the group we passed on Henderson, still drinking and laughing out on the street as we went past. Then inside, and bed again.

We were supposed to go and carve pumpkins today, but Laura is still in bed and she has to go to work at 4pm. I don’t know if I should have woken her up; if it was work, then I would, but this is just a trip. If she’s not up by two, then I’ll give her a knock.

currently playing: The Smiths — There Is A Light That Never Goes Out

Ian And The Bull

The flash wouldn’t work probably for Laura, so she ended up with this odd shot. But it looks cool…

The Bull And Leigh

Leigh had done this before, and put us all to shame.

The Bull And Laura

Her first attempt! (she went first; I was too chicken to do it until I had lost control of my reasoning skills)

I Rode The Bull

But I wasn’t as brave as Laura, who did it three times.

I have never seen so many pickup trucks in the same place at the same time. Leigh and Laura did warn me that the bar in Greensboro would confirm ‘all the stereotypes of the South, and then some’, but I wasn’t ready for…for…the line dancing. Nor was I ready for Joe’s special blend of cocktails. The reason we went there, apart from the bull, naturally, was because Leigh’s fiancé works behind the bar, and he was giving us free drinks all night. This won’t mean much to most of you, but to those in the know: these cocktails were stronger than the St. Gabriel’s industrial-strength concoctions. I only managed three. I think the purpose of the bull is to ensure that drunken women (Leigh calls them skanky hoes, possibly because they hit on Joe a lot) get on the bull, and do their level best to make it look as dirty as possible. They’re aided in this by the Controller, who lets the girls ride slower if they get the crowd going. That’s my excuse anyway.

Anyway, we rode the bull, Laura and I got a little drunk (me moreso, I think), there was a hush puppy at some point, and a conversation at the top of the stairs which I’m still a little confused about. But! A top night all round, our kid.

Today? M&M waffle on Franklin with Collin and his friends (really can’t remember all the names; Amber, Joy, Katie, Rachel, Richard?, and someone else who came in late, sat opposite from me while giving a confused look, before he heard me speak. “Oh, you’re Laura Hirst’s Ian, right?” My reputation seems to precede me…), which was nice, and then an afternoon spent on one of my Secret Plans To Fight Inflation. Muahahahaha.

And now? Something to eat, I think…

currently playing: Le Tigre — My My Metrocard