Blog of Billy

Quite the weekend:

Friday. Chris Brodt mourns 20 years of youth squandered on "making friends" and "listening to good music" by hosting the 2nd largest bash his apartment has ever seen. I became the 2nd drunkest Billy his apartment has ever seen. Several whiskey sours and some scotch on the rocks made me feel more masculine than the law ought to allow. I did my standard thing of telling everyone exactly how much I love them, and showed my love by removing my shirt and humping TheMcGuff. Newcomers to our little party scene included many of the younger debate kids, who got to see the-Billy-that-cares for the first time. We sang Queen, and some number of other songs I know, and bonded while leaning on each other. Horray for CB for continuing to throw kickin' parties with absurdly huge numbers of overwhelmingly attractive college age girls. (Notice that I only did not include Ryleigh because I couldn't find either facebook or blog presence for her. She is certainly included in the attractive girl category.) I need to start listening to more Less Than Jake, as the line "Last one out of Liberty City, burn it to the ground" just sounded cool. CB can help me with that.

Saturday. After waking up on CB's couch sometime Saturday afternoon and appropriating a very stylish top hat from his coat tree, I hopped over to Denise and Lori's to change clothes and hang out. Lori and I cuddled on the couch while Nathan tried to come up with excuses for why he was allowed to let a tiny 20 point handicap end his College Bowl career with a loss. I think he's just trying to give himself an excuse to pretend to fret over his graduate school choice some more. After taking Nathan to a play, Neisy and I ate way too much Chinese and gossiped as the elderly do. I had to run to the best little brew pub in OKC at that point to see a show by the very talented kids with and including Hannah Wolff. Always on the prowl, I noticed a cute brunette that appeared to know the band and their bassist James who is an old friend of mine. Apparently her name is Jenny, and she is way out of my league. Oh well, a boy can dream... Went to Denny's after that to see what the business was, and chat with Patrick. He and I had some good conversation when little JR popped in dressed to the nines. Turns out Classen SAS's prom was that evening, and there were lots of drunk 17-year-old girls who needed some creepy college guys to hit on them. We sped down to the south side and some apartment down there, drank someone else's beer and partied like our social status would never allow us when we were actually in high school. Brodt's top hat was well received as the dancing commenced. Had I actually been thinking about it, I would have commented on the juxtaposition of mourning the passing of my youth on Friday, and acting more like I was the young brash lad of the youth I kind of wanted than I ever really did when I was attending Edmond North. Odd that my mother always suspected the worst even though I never even really had fun until I left her house. Tragically, as all attempts at recapturing past youth tend to do, the party ultimately left me unfulfilled. We tried to keep the night alive at about 5am by dropping by Edmond, but found nothing but awkward conversation in a dark tent. After stopping by Patrick's, I headed home to sleep.

Sunday. Looking forward to a slow day, I was awoken in the afternoon by Doug wanting some help moving. Always happy to oblige, I met up with him at Zorba's and had yet another huge meal before heading off to his old place to disassemble the bed. The apartment below his was strangely open and strangely filled with what appeared to be stored stuff. We decided that if either of us ever needed a place to squat, it would be there. The Gumby that is Spike showed up to help haul things in his pick-em-up truck, and we headed up to their new place. Small world that it is, they are about 6 doors down from the apartment of some girls that playfully stalked me for a while. I need to get back in touch with them (along with various other people (sorry I haven't written you back yet, Neill)). After lifting heavy things for a few hours, Doug handed me over some entertaining media, including all 13 episodes of The Maxx which I watched all of that night. It's really good and only mostly disturbing. I'll have to watch it again before I'm 100% certain of what all went on with the story, but it presents an interesting view of how people deal with large-scale personal problems. Definitely more to look into.

I realized I left my bookbag at Denny's on Saturday. I should get that back before class tonight.