SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

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Giving Notice - Friday, Sept. 29, 2017
Accepting Offers - Tuesday, Sept. 26, 2017
Indian/Polish Wedding - Thursday, Sept. 21, 2017
The Builder - Wednesday, Sept. 13, 2017
Rupert Part II - Sunday, Sept. 10, 2017


Saturday, Feb. 15, 2003 @ 8:30 pm
Quail chicks look like bumblebees. Hic.



Yesterday was the best V-Day on record. Absolutely, without question.

Lets see. I could sum it up in one phrase: "I still taste garlic" but that'd be no fun.

The day started with early morning studying followed by writing a midterm. I wrote a killer essay on how the railroad was important in the consolidation of Canada. Umm why did I take science again? Oh yeah, because I understand why Dolly had to be euthanized - telomere length and using adult cells to clone... I got back a midterm in which I explained that very phenomenon. I did shitty on that exam by any sort of me-standards but I'm happy with my mark considering the amount of biochemistry that was in it.

Anyhow. I came home and chased a squirrel out of my bedroom. He was chewing the plant on top of my TV (?!) and both cats were alseep on my bed.

I was getting all comfy cozy for a (Woe Is) Me Night when the telephone rings...

Next thing I know I'm sitting around a dimly lit kitchen playing B33ramid and The Trap with four really really drunk guys. Nothing more romantic than tapping a fresh keg of U-Brew Czech Pilsner.

At 2am it suddenly became a brilliant idea to play a round of R!de the Bus with the loser having to take a shot from the garlic infused rum (someone's Dad's blood pressure tonic). You have NO IDEA how bad this stuff is. The recommended dose is 5 eye drops. Eventually everyone lost and had to take a swig from the vile bottle.

Then nobody could drink any more alcohol so we played for sloshes of soy sauce.

So so sad. Such good times.

Then it's a dizzy blur. I remember Mark leaning on the door jamb to the master bedroom in his boxerbriefs and a wife beater, "There's room for two in here, baby." And then I turn around and there's the French Canadian telling me that the guest room (with him) would be a much safer place to be, in regards to the puke factor.

I chose the crappy couch. Luke had dibs on the good couch. The dog snored all night. I had garlic hiccups, and Luke and I talked stupid drunk talk till late... mmmm really good dream about French Canadian guy.

I woke at dawn and headed back over town to do the chores in the Avian Unit.

Six hours later I'm in the middle of a Greek wedding shower eating spanikopita and not eating the bean salad - whooooooa garlic not quite good yet. Hic.

My sister and I chose a Test gift - that is - a gift to test the reaction of these people we hardly know. I think the bride understood that it was a joke, but the aunts and grandmas nodded in approval and commended the usefulness of non-stick loaf pans.

The balloons, streamers and tablecloths were Blue and White.

Hic.

Time to go help finish off the keg.


Roots | Shoots