Last night was one of the more bizarre, frightening, aggravating, unconvential, mind-numbing, and finally, LONGEST nights of my entire life.

It started innocently enough. We had all decided to stay in for the night. We went to dinner with James's dad, which was great, especially when James's 13-year-old brother, John, called Tom an alcoholic. After that, we chilled in Harbin for a while and eventually settled upon watching Newsies again since Nicole hadn't seen it. So a bunch of people sat down to watch it, while Tom and Moffet went for a walk (one that apparently took them really really far from campus). Our number dwindled throughout the movie and eventually it was just Cal, Nicole, Saad, Saad's friend, and me. At 2:00 am, the movie was just coming to the final big scenes when a girl came in to the lounge asking us for a cup to put water in. She said she was taking care of a drunk girl and that she needed to get her some water. We told her to check the cabinets and had sort of turned back to the movie when the girl asked us, "Do you know this girl, her name's Stephanie?" Suddenly, it clicked for all of us that Steph had gotten shitfaced again and this time it was serious. Hopefully no one gets on my case about posting this, but I really hope that whoever does get pissed off realizes that I really want people to know what other people have to go through when they're too drunk to take care of themselves.

Nicole ran to her room for a water bottle, while Cal and I headed towards Steph's end of the hall. We found three guys standing outside of the girls' restroom, which the girl who had found us quickly entered. At first, the guys thought Cal and I were just meandering around and told us that we need to leave because they're trying to take care of someone. Therefore, we told them that we were friends of hers and that we were going to help her. This definitely reassured these people, because, as we soon learned, they had no idea who Steph was, why she was at their party, who she was with, and how much she had had to drink. Apparently she'd been throwing up at the house before they brought her back to Harbin, which she managed to give as her dorm.

So, we started a sort of changing of the drunk-handling guards, and one of the three guys was told that he could leave by the other two. The other two, one of whom was with the girl who brought us and the other being the boyfriend of the second girl who was at this point helping Nicole with Steph in the bathroom, told us that the guy that had just left was really sketchy, that he had been all over Steph while she was at the house, and that they had brought her home because they didn't want him "bringing her home." This made us all the more worried about her, and thankful that these people had the amazing decency to bring her home even though it was their party.

By this point, we were trying to figure out whether or not to GERM her, that is, to call the Campus EMTs to come help her out. After some debate about whether it was necessary, we decided that it was better to err on the side of caution and we made the call at about 3 AM. After a disturbingly long while, a GERMS team was there, with a few DPS officers and some fire department guys. The GERMS staff offered Steph the chance to refuse treatment, which she wanted to do to avoid being GERMed, but as she couldn't say the entire statement one must read, they were legally obligated to take her to the emergency room.

Nicole was sent in the ambulance with her, while Audrey (who had walked out of her room into a shitstorm and was now fully involved), Tom, Moffet and I followed on foot, walking across campus to the medical center. We sat down with Nicole in the waiting room. It was now four o'clock in the morning. At first, they brought Steph out without having anyone see her, because she seemed alright, but when she got sick while we were talking with the nurse, they took her back in and a doctor apparently saw her. We ended up in the waiting room until 7 AM, watching the sun rise through the skylights. It was a long process, but I got some good story material out of it. Thank God I had my laptop.

When Steph finally came out, she sort of laughed it all off, which is exactly the opposite of what we wished this would produce. Instead of a wake-up call, it was dismissed by Steph as "embarrassing" but nonetheless her first thought was how to explain the $500 charge to her parents, probably by saying someone slipped her something. We were filling her in on all that she had no memory of, and when we told her about her potential escort of ill intentions, her immediately response was, "Oh, hey, by the way, do you guys have my digital camera, because I hope I didn't leave it there." Not the normal reaction one would expect when you tell someone in so many words that they could have been raped last night. In fact, I don't think Steph realizes how lucky she was that A) These people were good enough to bring her back when they had no obligation to B) That everyone wasn't asleep C) That Tom and Moffet weren't on their longer walk when I called them up to help us with her. D) That we did call GERMS instead of assuming she was alright, since GERMS decided that she needed to be hospitalized and the list goes on. I don't think any of that REALLY registered.

However, one decent by-product of our long night was the trip Moffet, Tom and I took to scrounge up breakfast at about 8 AM. We meandered our way to the Georgetown Cafe, walking so slowly that it took us ten seconds to pass a parked car, and about ten minutes when we passed a parked Ferrari. In fact, our sleep-deprived state left us in such a delirium, that the following moments ensued:

Me (quoting an away message): Yeah, dude, evil monkeys are coming to rape you.
Tom: Hey, if they feed me and put me to bed afterwards, it's fine with me.

All of us (in regards to random people on the street): Think they'll feed us?

Tom: Look at this woman coming down the road, walking so fast, cocky bitch.
Moffet and I: What?!

Tom: Ow, there's another rock in my shoe. I think my shoe's producing rocks.
Me: So, essentially, your shoe is like the red-headed stepchild of the goose that laid the golden eggs?

Tom: Think we can catch a cab to Sugar's (which is two blocks away)?
Moffet: Good plan!

Me: Whoa, look at that duck climbing the steps of Old North.
Moffet: He's getting up there. Maybe he wants to get to class early.
Tom: Yeah, he's moving about as slow as we are.
Me: Actually, it's a she.
Tom: How the fuck do you know?
Me: It's a mallard.
Moffet: Yeah, but the mallards are males.
Me: No, a mallard is a kind of duck. The females are brown like that.
Tom: Ok, Nature Rick.
Me: C'mon, man, it's Ranger Rick or Nature Bob.
Tom:....Ok, wow.

Me (after a psycho-pigeon literally flew at Tom's head): Dude, that pigeon dive-bombed you! What the fuck is his problem?

Me: I think the only film plots I could handle right now would be porn.
Moffet: No, I couldn't even handle porn at this point.
Me: Yeah, you're right, I'd just be like, "Hmmm, this is interesting. When is he gonna fix the fridge?"

Moffet: When did we become such 80-year old men? We can't even pull an all-nighter.

Moffet: I couldn't "entertain" a lady right now.
Me: Yeah, I'd totally be saying, "I have a headache, I'm not in the mood, and I want to sleep."
Moffet: Aw, man, we ARE 80-year old men!
Tom: I dunno, sounds more to me like we're 80-year-old women.

Me: I think my immune system just said "I quit" and left.
***an hour later***
Moffet: Dude, I think my ligament just eloped with your immune system.

Me (as we inched our way back to campus): Man, we're like a horrible adaptation of Homeward Bound.
Tom: Can I be the Golden Retriever?

Me: What are all those cop cars up there for?
Tom: Maybe it's a triple homocide.
Me: Tom, there's three of us.
Tom (feeling his face): I don't feel dead.

In the spirit of Katey....OH MY GOD CRISIS!

Well, actually more of a bummer than anything. I was fiddling with pictures in my printer's photo editor and I accidentally saved a picture in a very small form, so that when I resized it, it was all blurry. I know not how I managed to irreversibly screw up the picture, but anyway, if I ever sent anyone the picture from senior trip of my back as I badonged off of the boat house (because I think my camera was the only one it was taken on and its long since been taken off the camera itself), if you could send me one, I'd name a child after you or maybe something more tangible, but if any one has it, please help me out.

Ok, some things are coincidence. I can see how some things are just nice when you run into someone you've been meaning to talk to, or someone calls you right as your were picking up the phone to call them. It's intriguing, but you usually just kind of accept it. Then other things are downright, no-way-around-it, bizarre moments. And that is exactly the kind of moment I had last night.

So today is Dad's birthday, March 21, 03/21. I had realized earlier this week that it was coming up. It's not something that really upsets me anymore, just a time that I like to think and remember, but not let myself dwell. So last night, Saturday, my friends and I set out after a game of Kings to find Georgetown's parties of the night. On our travels, we stopped into the ICC, one of our classroom buildings, to use the restrooms. My friend Cal's friend from home, Rosanne, was with us and while we were waiting, we discussed which parties we were going to. One suggested was the Asian Club party, to which Rosanne laughed and said "Yes, clearly I'm Asian." Rosanne has red hair and other features that seemed Irish. I asked her if she was Irish and she said, "Actually, I'm half-German, with the rest being English and Irish." I said, "Wow, so am I. My Dad came over from Germany when he was 6." Apparently, her dad was fresh off the boat as well. So we discussed how they came over, mine by plane, hers literally on a boat, and I mentioned that he was adopted by a family in Iowa. Somewhere along the line, Rosanne misheard me and based on what she thought I said, she asked, "Wait, when did you say your father's birthday was?" I was confused, but I said, "Actually it's tomorrow, that's weird." At that moment, I looked at my watch.

It was midnight.

I know because I felt a need to get some air suddenly, and as I left the building, the Healy clock tower was ringing into the night. I was unbelievably freaked out and just stared at the sky while the bells rang. I just felt completely blindsided, in a completely different sense then from last year, when I didn't realize until 8:00 pm on the 21st, sitting in Katie's basement the night we watched LA Confidential. Tom came out to see how I was. I told him, honestly, that I was fine, just weirded out, then I told the story, like I had before. I reassured him that I was fine, and did the same with Pia, though I appreciated the hug she gave me when she asked me if I was OK.

That is quite possibly the weirdest thing that has ever happened to me. The fact that some chance misunderstanding brought that around just baffles me. I don't know, but times like these really make a case for something behind it all.

I don't know what else to say, really.

And the tradition of measuring fun by quotes continues! Here are the Furman highlights:

>>Joe: "Did you see me? I did two somersaults!"

>>Little Kid (to the girls): "Ok, I'll meet you at the movies!"

>>Me: "I need to get some DAMN pants on."

>>Katie: "btw"
Joe, Kate and I: "STOP!"

>>Katie: "wtf, mate?"
Joe, Kate and I: "STOP!"
Katie: "But it's from..."
Joe, Kate, and I: "WE KNOW!"

>>Katey (As she opens her door and sees us for the first time): "Oh my God! Crisis!"

>>Me: "I've calling Jamie."
Joe: "And I'm going to pee. I'm always peeing when we call Jamie!"

>>Joe: "Get me my pizza, wench!"

>>Britney and Ellen (when I almost hit them with a football): "Ian! That's it! You're cut off!"

>>Me: "See, we need to stay between 19 and I-85, which is funny, because we were born in 1985."
Joe: **stunned silence**

>>Joe (concerning the water bottle from last time): "But it was really phallical."
Me: "Phallic"
Joe: "Phallic-like?"
Me: "No, Phallic means 'like a phallus.' "
Joe: "But I like phallical."
Me: "Well, then you say phallical, Joe."

>>Katie (leafing through a magazine): "Aw, they were so cute!"
Kate: "Who?"
Katie: "Britnen and Justy."

>>Me: "No, Kate, you didn't make too many noises in your sleep. Just that one that sounded like a rocket ship."

>>"Oh my God, Joe, nice driving!" (said by all of us after Joe escaped what looked like the most inevitable collision ever).

>>Katie posing when she caught the football on her hip.

>>Me: "Ok, so I figure 'pretty' only relates to the face."
Joe: "Yeah, 'pretty' is definitely only the face."
Me: "And 'hot' is like the body mainly, but face too."
Joe: "Yeah."
Kate: "Ok, so what about 'cute?'"
Me: "Cute is like a general nicer feeling about a girl."
Kate: "So can a cute girl be hot?"
Me: "Oh, yeah, a cute girl usually surprises you by being hot one night, like when she goes out to a club or something."

>> Me (concerning the girl in Saving Silverman): "See, Kate, that's a cute girl looking hot."

>>Kate: "Pull up your pants!"


So who wins the most fun award? Hahahahaha! I'll never tell you! It's so close that I feel like the win should go to whosoever plies me the most to win. Maybe we'll all learn something....But anyway, thank you to all of my guests. Meghan, thanks for the great show, the unexpected honoring of Mira, the fun party, and the conversation until 5 in the morning. Katie, thanks for the futon, the laughs, the cool friends, Kings and the appreciative hugs. Kate, thanks for the Kings team, the pizza all for me, the rocket ship, the bouncing, and taking the call. Mic, thanks for dinner, putting me to work with you in theater, the wonderful ride up there, the CD-ROM, and the quality conversation. Starla, thanks for wrangling Joe and I, pointing out my chocolate wallet, being so cool as to pierce your ear (you genuine southern rebel), and singing with us on the way. And Joe, thanks for the rides, the quotes, the rap, the water bottle, the discussions, the endless drunken high fives, and the shared dialings; we have seriously come a long way, if you think about it.

Thanks to everyone I saw. To everyone I didn't see, thanks for being so amazing that I regret it immensely, but now I need to see you that much more.

Now......back to school.....

So Stage Two of The Ian Fahey Visits to Milton Ladies Southern Tour was completed this evening. I took the long and windy (see, Joe, it still looks like I'm talking about breezes or something) road up to Young Harris to see Miss Michelle Golden, with whom I have been in unfortunately poor contact. I was presented with another case of someone who seems to have found serious enjoyment from their school, so go michelle! Her black box is ginormous, or at least in comparison to Walsh and especially Stage III. Her room is big and well-lit, and her campus is adorable. I think that's a necessary word for it. It has some awesome views, but it really is so pleasant and charming. I met her friends, who all seemed like a pretty good time from the five seconds I had with them. I met Kellie, who seemed very nice, though I didn't talk to her for that long. And finally, dinner was nice, though filling and I regret leaving my box of veal sicilian on the table (or in Mic's room). All in all a wonderful trip. Next stop, Furman, and I sincerely wish that I could find a way to get to Davidson. I just need to hop a bus from DC one of these days. That is the one missing link in the visits to people who don't have Spring Break right now, because I would love to see Hanley and I'd love to see Davidson 5 years after I was last there. Wow, that makes me feel old for some reason...

"Lord ain't it strange,
After changes upon changes, we are more or less the same,
After changes we are more or less the same"

And here's how I realized it while at BSC:

>>Me: "Yeah, I'm sort of a spell-check for drunk people."
Junior Andrew: "Man, then you can hang out with me anytime!"

>>Me: "This is a weird water bottle."
Joe: "Yeah, it looks like a penis."
Me: "Yes, yes it does, Joe, thank you for that. I'm gonna go ahead and drink my penis water."

>>Little Kid (to Joe): "You're stuck in a tree-ee, you're stuck in a tree-ee!"

>>Joe and Me: "We're going streaking!"

>> Placard on an Alabama restroom: "Please inform the management if another customer has been UNcourteous."

>>Starla: "Joe, do a handstand!"
Joe: "Alright, I'm doing a handstand!"

>>Joe: "See, I can't be that drunk! I just did a somersault!"

>>Joe (to the girls who walked by us): "I wasn't trying to look up your skirt!"

>>Me (to Joe as he went to use the girl's restroom on Meghan's hall): "Deploy! Deploy!"

>>Joe: "This wing of the dorm is closed for an indeterminate period of time."

>>Meghan (to me): "That's a very efficient way of eating waffles."

>>Meghan: "Do you realize that it has been 20 hours since we last ate?!"

>>Meghan: "So are you guys interested in just slipping into the show without paying?"
Me: "Hey, I skip Ethics on a regular basis. I'm down."

>>Joe, Starla and I (after realizing that the show we saw was followed by a celebration of a teacher named Mira Popovich): "Um.....yeah Mira!"

>>Joe (to a girl hanging out of a passing bus: "Hey Emmy!"
Meghan: "No, that's Lucy!"
Joe: "Hey Lucy!"

>>Meghan and Starla: "Joe, when you go down to pee, wave your hand so we can see you."
Joe (waving): "I'm peeing! Tell Jamie I'm peeing!"

>>Starla: "Yeah, see, I don't worry about shower shoes, because I know where all the girls at the house have been."
Me: "Not me. My concern is how I'm going to get myself clean wearing a hazmat suit."

>>Me: "Meghan, you can keep this Eddie Izzard CD."
Meghan: "I can? Are you sure?"
Me: "Um....no, nevermind."

So yes, our trip to BSC was loads of fun and it was comforting to know that once again, it's incredibly easy to come back home with everyone. At first, when we were riding up, I was wondering if the particularly serious note of second semester had changed things. For me, first semester felt like a really long TiP term, like a summer program. but second semester made it all real and I started understanding how much life has really changed. This made me wonder how the dynamic would work when I came home and spent time with the gang again. As evidenced, the dynamic is as wonderful as ever. Cheers to friendships that stand the test, or as Meghan Dannemiller so wonderfully toasted: "Here's to old friends and new memories."
Love you guys.

So I have finished all my classes as of 10:05 today, Friday. My flight for home is not until tomorrow morning at 9:30 am. All that time. Time like this weighs so heavily. The next step is so close, less than 24 hours. But there must be waiting. Waiting is so hard sometimes. I don't know, I feel as if I have too much time to be with myself. I mean, I spent plenty of time alone while here at school, but there's something different about the calm before a big travel day or a particularly significant event. It's as if you have a lot to get done, but not so much that you must do it right away, so that you feel like you must do some other industrious thing in the time, and that's where I always come to self-reflection. I know some people still have work today and they would say "Consider yourself lucky." I do appreciate being done with work, but being responsible for my own hours until tomorrow seems too much to ask. I don't know why it feels that way more now than any other afternoon after classes. It just does...and this didn't take up as much time as I'd hoped.

But hey! Spring Break! Road Trips! Yay!