Tag Archives: frats

I Smell Like Burgers

11 Oct

Today was interesting to say the least. I woke up in immense pain from my sciatica, and couldn’t sleep past 11:30 which is terrible on a Saturday morning–especially since I didn’t go to bed until about 4:30am because Pee Wee’s Big Adventure was on TV. Anyways, I came to terms with the fact that my pain would no longer enable me to sleep comfortably, so I caught up on some of my programs and watched Glee online. After that, I told my powderpuff coach that I wouldn’t be attending practice at 2pm because of my pain and that I had to set up for a BBQ at my sorority. At around 2:30pm I made my way over to the house to put my belongings down and relax for a few minutes–then I got an eyebrow wax. I went over to the salon I go to while at school and was happy to be greeted by the same girl who has done my waxing and hair since I’ve attended college. She’s seriously the nicest girl, such a sweetheart, and her waxes are painless! It’s amazing, honestly. After that was over and done with, I went back to the house to begin setting up. I moved the stereo outside, along with some tables, plastic utensils, plates and dessert items. I then went to go move the grill to the side of the house when I realized there was no propane tank attached–dammit. I panicked a little bit, as the girl who was really in charge of the event couldn’t be there, so I didn’t know what to do. Fortunately I saw a tank of propane resting just under the deck of the house, and I hoped that tank was full, so I brought it over to the grill with some help from my friend. We, and by we I mean I watched as my friends, attached the tank to the grill. Once we were all hooked up, the challenge of lighting the grill came to play. My friend stood there, for about 20 minutes, lighting match after match after match trying to light the grill by attaching a lit matchstick to the end of a twig–all failed attempts. When we gave up on that tactic, we sent people to get us a grill lighter. In the meantime, on of the sister’s boyfriends arrived and tried to help. That’s when he told us the propane tank was empty. Now, I was in somewhat of a panic because the BBQ was set to start at 4:30 and it was now 4, so I was freaking out to say the least. We gave the tank to one of the other sisters to go get re-filled and I went inside to hit my head against a wall. To my surprise, and rescue, my other sisters had started to cook some burgers and hot dogs in pans over the stove while we waited for the grill situation to pan out. We were basically running a full service McDonalds because of all the grease in the pans that the burgers were cooking in, but we did what we had to do. I finally got word that the grill was up and running and I nearly cried tears of joy–but contained myself, obviously. I rushed outside to see what had happened, when the sister who went to get the new tank told me the other girl’s boyfriend is an idiot because the tank was 100% full and he didn’t know what he was talking about. It turns out, a different sister’s boyfriend actually got it to work for us–he has a MUCH better head on his shoulders. So finally, I threw some burgers and dogs on the grill, and got cooking. After an intense amount of smoke and left over char got my eyes all watery, and about a dozen burgers and dogs later, I shut it down and relaxed for a few minutes before cleaning up. I got grill-dirt all over my white shorts–wonderful–but then I was so exhausted and nauseated from all the grill fumes that I went home and tried to nap, but of course I failed. It was about 7pm when I got home, and I wanted nothing but to rest. I then thought about my day and realized it was terrible, so I texted one of my friends who always seems to make me feel better. Sure enough, she invited me over and we just chatted over some television for a few hours. Eventually, my nausea went away, but obviously my back started hurting again by the time I left. I ended up going to a party with some friends and we just hung out, chatted and danced a little bit. My roommate had to go to the bathroom, so naturally we went in a group of 4 girls to the bathroom which only had one toilet, in one big room with 2 showers. When we walked in we noticed one of the showers was running, and there was a pair of jeans on the floor, and a towel hanging up. That’s when it became apparent that there was one of the frat brothers showering in there. My roommate, bless her soul, has no shame when she’s out and about, not to mention she’s friends with everyone in that particular frat, so she opened the curtain on the guy to see who it was and to say hello. They had a full conversation while my friends and I stood there in disbelief as to what was happening right in front of us. Periodically throughout our trip to the bathroom, she kept poking her head in the shower, promising that she wasn’t “looking”. She has a boyfriend, so she probably wasn’t looking, but I know her all too well–she looked. Later on, one of the fraternity brothers decided to jump off of the porch–he landed on his face. I believe an ambulance arrived, but I don’t know for sure. All I know is that his mouth and lower face was all bloody, and he moved one of his teeth out of place so it was crooked. How do I know this? Well, he was walking around with blood all over his face and pointed his tooth out to us, and continued to tell us how much pain he was in. I said he should probably wash his face off, but he insisted on leaving it the way it was. Truthfully, I don’t know what he was thinking because if it was left there to go for that “tough guy” look to attract ladies, I’m pretty sure he failed because I don’t know about any other girls out there, but I’m pretty sure no one wants a mouthful of dry blood when they kiss a guy–we’d all pass on that. I decided it was time to go, so I went to the house for a bit to talk to a friend, then I went back to my dorm–to spend the night alone, per usual. Two of my roommates are sleeping at their boyfriends’ houses, and my third roomie is home for the weekend. I can’t wait for tomorrow night so I’m not alone!


Sorry it’s been a while, friends, but my life has been pretty bland lately. I’m hoping it’ll start to pickup again. Until then…


Ditk

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The Luck of The Irish

12 Sep

Tonight was supposed to be a simple night, a night in which I just stayed in and watched a movie with some friends because all of the parties around campus were cancelled due to frats being on social probation. But obviously being who I am, the night absolutely did not go this way–not at all. This is how it went down…

I was hanging out in the house when one of my sisters walked into the room and mentioned something about an Irish festival downtown. I’m not Irish, at all, but I was bored, and needed somewhere to go and something to do–even if it meant driving a few drunk girls home from an Irish, a.k.a beer, festival. So we discussed it, and it was decided that I would drive my friends car, along with her and 2 other girls to the festival. Once everyone was ready to go, we got into the car, and we were off. It wasn’t more than 2 minutes until I realized both the gas AND check engine lights were on, so of course I was screwed. My friend decided we should probably stop and get some gas–good idea–so we did. After a measly 2-gallon fill we were on our way for real this time. It took us a while to find a spot, but eventually we found a parking lot and a spot which took about a 50-point turn to get into. Nonetheless, we parked, and started walking over to the festival.

The festival wasn’t too large, but it wasn’t small either. It consisted of vendors selling food, drinks, beer, shirts, jewelry, beer, hats and beer. There was also some live music which was quite enjoyable. My friends, all 21, got some beers, and we walked around until we stumbled upon an Irish step-dancing group consisting of little girls and boys. We watched their ENTIRE performance, but spend the entire time arguing whether their hair was real or not. Once the performance was over, we did some more walking, and got some shepards pie for dinner, then went to check out the music. It was interesting, and one of my friends, whom happens to be very Irish (but doesn’t have red hair…odd) was thoroughly enjoying herself. We watched a few songs, then decided it was time to go. What kind of night would it have been if we all just went home though? My friends were only 2 beers each into the night, and I still had so much energy traveling through my body that I needed to go somewhere else. So it was decided to go to a bar–an Irish pub–right by where we parked our car. I was praying that they wouldn’t be checking ids at the door, but of course they were, so I took out my North Carolina id…the one I spent a fortune on, the one I had an 0 for 1 track record with, as I tried to use it to get into a bar last semester, and they wouldn’t accept it. So I pulled it out, and low and behold–they let me in! I was SO high on life from that moment on that I was ready for anything life was going to throw at me for the rest of the evening. I wanted to look up at the sky and shout “BRING IT ON!” but then I realized the bouncer probably wouldn’t have liked this, and all that I had just accomplished would diminish, so I refrained from screaming–instead I just whispered to my friends, and texted a few others.

The bar was nice. It was also a restaurant, which I was used to because I worked at an Irish bar/restaurant all summer–I felt at home. My friends ordered drinks and we took a look around. There was a stage and some instruments set up, so we knew there would be live music–excellent. My friend was still in an extreme Irish mood, and all she wanted to do was here some hardcore Irish music, so when she saw one of the band members, she requested a song, but he responded saying “we don’t play that stuff”–shot down. She’s a fighter though, so she just got right back up and went on with her life…soul survivor. A few minutes passed and the band went on–that’s when the 4 of us fell in love. For up on that stage was a guy in a green shirt–a guy in a green shirt that not only played the guitar, but the bagpipe as well, and not just any bagpipe–a leopard print bagpipe. Surely I had died and gone to heaven…but in actuality I was still alive. They played a few songs, and they were pretty good. My friend was still on her little Irish High, while another one of my friends, a music major, seemed to look a little aggravated. Obviously I had to question this, so I asked what was wrong. She then proceeded to tell me that the fiddle player was holding his bow the wrong way. I couldn’t believe my ears, or hers, because she was wearing earplugs to protect herself from going deaf at an early age. Enough said.

After the band finished their first set they took a break, and my friend, the music major, went up to the fiddle player and asked about his bow-holding-ways. He said something about how the way a fiddle bow is held is different from the way a violin bow is held (they are the same thing physically) but he admitted that he definitely holds his hand up on the bow a little higher than normal. Our eyes followed bagpipe-boy off the stage, and around the bar. We played rock, paper, scissors to see who would get to kiss him first, if the chance happened, but obviously it didn’t, but if it did, I would have been third…just incase you were wondering. One of the band members returned to the stage with a few stacks of CDs they recorded. I noticed one of them was a little odd looking, and when I read the title, I realized the band had done a Celtic tribute to The Cure. I didn’t know what to make of it all, but “Love Song” is one of my favorite songs, so I went up to the bassist and asked if he would play it for me, he said they usually play that one out of the Cure covers they have done, and that it was so cool I asked for that song–as if anyone has to tell me how cool the things I do and say are, sheesh–don’t they know I know I’m cool? But seriously, I’m a loser.

Anyways, they were getting ready to go back on when I spotted bagpipe boy walking toward me–I knew it was now or never. I stopped him and said “I just have to say, 1. that’s probably the coolest bagpipe I have ever seen” he laughed and said “thanks!” I then continued “and second, you’re probably the best looking bagpipe player I have ever seen” he laughed again and was modest by saying “that’s very nice of you to say” but then, unfortunately, I continued “maybe that’s because the only other bagpipe player I have ever seen was my kindergarten principal–I should have just stopped at “the best looking bagpipe player”. Thankfully, he maintained his sense of humor and laughed, saying “thanks, that’s very nice of you to say…I think?” and laughed again. I assured him it was a compliment, and he walked onto stage after laughing and thanking me again. My life was complete for that short amount of time.

They went back on, and I began to notice 2 very drunk guys dancing like idiots in front of the stage. Obviously I had to join them. So I danced along side them as they stomped their feet, clapped their hands, and did some weird hip and arm movements that I think yet to have been discovered by choreographers across the USA. My friends documented it all via my digital camera, and laughed the entire time. Then, they said “by request” and they began to play their Celtic cover of “Love Song”…it was FANTASTIC! The song ended, they played one more song, and then took a break, so we decided it was time to leave.

We got back into the car and drove back to campus, dropping one of the girls off at her apartment, and then returning to the sorority house so my friends could change before we went over to one of the frat houses to meet my other friends there. Once we arrived at the frat, we went upstairs to my roommates friend’s room, and just relaxed on the back porch, which is really just a roof…with no railing around it–safe? We listened to music, chatted, danced, you know…the usual. My friend managed to spill a drink on her pants, creating the PERFECT “piss” stain. It looked 110% like she peed in her pants without missing a beat! Obviously I took a picture and posted it right to facebook–I love BlackBerries.

Here’s where the real drama starts though–we spotted one of our sisters down below by a car with a random guy in back of the house. We yelled her name to say hello and the guy appeared to be putting his pants back on. Apparently, he wanted a little bit too much from her, and she didn’t want to get involved, so we helped her out, but then someone saw him, and thought he was peeing on one of the brother’s cars. This is where all of hell broke loose…legitimately. The next thing we knew, one of the brothers, who happens to have an extremely bad temper problem, was outside SCREAMING and chased the guy away. The guy RAN and my friend came upstairs to stay with us. My roommate ran downstairs, and so did I. Upon arriving downstairs I saw basically all of the brothers trying to hold back and calm down one of the brothers who was screaming quite loud and going crazy. I decided it was a good time to go back upstairs. A few minutes later–more screaming. We heard banging, cursing–the works. We wanted to get out of there but then my roommate texted me saying DO NOT open the door. So we stayed in the president’s room, with the door locked. I felt so Anne Frank, it was ridiculous. We were all freaking out because that one particular brother was flipping out, banging on doors, throwing things and breaking them for virtually no reason at all. Finally, one of the other, sane, brothers knocked on the door. We let him in, and we told him we thought it would be best for us to get out of there. So get this, he lead us out of the house through like a back way–a secret escape route! We avoided the Nazis! I mean, we got out of the house alive and in one piece!

The three of us went over to our sorority house, just 2 houses down, and relaxed for a few. Then I decided it was time for me to go back to my dorm, so my friend walked me home. Later, I found out that someone stole a banner off the side of our house, and that one of my sisters chased the guy down! She told DPS (dept. of public safety) what had happened, and they gave her full permission to beat him up, and that they would watch. What a champ, what great officers, and what a night!

Oh, and all 3 of my roommates are sleeping out…yet again, so yeah…I’m still pathetic!


And it’s only Friday…

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