and chambers went to nyc
(and took pictures in elevators),
but really, nothing that interesting has happened.
until now.
and so i mark my return to blogging with a heartwarming and dramatic tale,
Birthdays and Bomb Threats
how i ended up sleeping for an hour on the floor of ICC 118
saturday night was sam's birthday, and we celebrated by sitting at the pope table at buca di beppo. i kid you not, the day the pope died, we were told the only table large enough to accomodate our party of 16 was the pope table, off of which the bust of JPII had just been lifted. talk about irony. dinner was quite good. tim and ra matt spilled the fact that i'm incredibly ticklish, and were duly punished by well-placed ass grabs. we annoyed the whole restaurant, staff and all, by insisting that we sing "happy birthday" as many times as possible. and we weren't even drinking yet.
we took the bus back from dupont circle, singing a few more times there, and headed to an apartment of sam's friend. we told sam we had arranged for a little "performance", seating her on a tall chair and forcing singles into her hands. someone ran upstairs to get the stripper, and we all took photos of sam looking quite frightened at the fact that her boyfriend had orchestrated such an embarrassing situation. april fools, now time for kings.
of course, at the beginning of each game of kings there's the obligatory rules consultation (perhaps there should be a national group that publishes the rules to such things so there's not so much debate) during which everyone is able to get a little bit tipsy as they sip their beverages of choice. by the end of the game, and after vodka, champagne, and rum, i was drunk. for, perhaps, the 4th time in my life. priceless.
drunk caitlin wandered back to the dorms with tim and amy to watch star wars. drunk anthony joined in and made fun of drunk caitlin for being quite scared of that sand pit thing that was supposed to eat all our friendly protagonists. everyone got sleepy, realized it was an hour later than we thought (damn daylight savings), and went to bed an hour into episode vi. the perfect end to a rolicksome evening.
almost. because really, what would my 4th drunk night ever be without a pulled fire alarm. only it wasn't pulled by a student, it was more DOPS (dept of public safety) officers responding to a bomb threat in the building. which the ra's still won't officially confirm since reslife won't permit them to treat us as people of an age older than 8. the swquad was evacuated and an ra told us that this normal "fire alarm" would take a while, and that we should go to a friend's house or ICC to keep warm. my friends from the 6th floor and i went to ICC 6, home of the gov department, to rest on the nice leather couches, until a DOPS officer told us that we had to come down to the 1st floor, which has no such couches, where he could keep an eye on us. because the evening wasn't juvenile enough. those of us who wanted to sleep crashed on the floor of ICC 118 (which really is no different from ICC 116), and those who knew that was going to accomplish nothing went to the alumni lounge, promising to call if we were allowed back in the building.
i managed to sleep for about an hour on the floor, periodically waking up to walk outside and see if tim had called me from alumni lounge. because there's no cell service on ICC 1 (even more reason that we should have stayed on 6). and though the building looked like a bad slasher film, with bodies lying face down in the hall ways, the DOPS officer never thought it would be a good idea to announce that the dorms had been opened once again at 6 am. i'm not even really sure he knew about it. lucky for me and my 4 partners in sleep, i got tim's message at about 6:30 and we all went home to our beds.
so there you have it, anonymous. another lengthy blog entry from the painfully verbose caitlin. next thing i know, i'll be fired from blogging for not being concise (or for bad spelling). :-P
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