Black and White, Dallas and Libraries, New England Anthanaeums, Gin & Tonics, Prophets in the bathroom from the desert of the real, cliched ultimate misadventures.

Friday had left me with much to mull over. The Black and White Party at Sigma Chi had been pretty solid. Something like 1/3 of the sailing team was in the house. I was taking strong drinks and pats on the back like the good 'ol boys had something planned for me.

"Yo, it seems like EVERYONE is sigma chi."

"There is a reason."

Smile, Wink, Handshake, Laugh.

"Here, grab a drink."

I drank through two rum and cokes that were sugar hinted karkov with cola food coloring. They were thick and I wasn't really feeling it. I made the switch to a gin and tonic but that wasn't much better. What kind of crazy, self-righteous WASP partier would cruise around a dance event throwing back G & T's anyway?

The apparel was formal. Hence the name, Black and White. I was in my ubiquitous Emmanuel Pinstripe suit. I had already worn it three or four times but did I care? These people wouldn't remember my clothes. We were all moving toward that event horizon were what you were wearing was irrelevant. On the dance floor, people were grinding up against each other everywhere.

It was incredible.

I dance with Dallas. We had talked earlier about libraries and anthanaeums. Now we were dancing intoxicated like the bacchites she might of read about.

The place was out of control. I had two more beers, and found preston to give him an extra on the dance floor. Andrew Brainerd showed up and in order to get him in, I told the brother at the door that he was pledging to Sigma at MIT. They bought it, and quizzed him hardcore while I sat drunk off my ass in the door jamb gesturing jeff and julie in.

I went back to the room at 2:00. I had to race at Yale at 7:00. I needed to sleep. I ran into an old friend in the hallway. She looked lost and confused.

"My roomate sexiled me!"

I laughed and gestured her into my room. I told her that she could sleep with me and she agreed.

This is where things began to get interesting. My invitation to sleep over was a literal one. I was not reading anything into it, and I certainly did not expect any sort of serious thing to go down. Evan was in the room for fuck's sake.

NOTHING was going to happen. I feel asleep with this beautiful girl and felt happy.

I was drunker than I thought. About 15 minutes later, I was projecting over my sleeping fellow and throwing up on the floor. It was disgusting. I was unprepared. There had been no time to think this out. I was blackout unconcious until the floor was in focus and vomit was streaming out of my nose.

Not cool.

The poor girl under my arm who was evidently sober at the time and had no laugh method built into an intoxiation to laugh away this ridiculousness.

I picked up her shoes and threw them to the door.

Evan woke up and asked if was OK. I said no, and he went back to sleep. I went to the bathroom to wash off and recover. It was 3:00, when I went back to the room the girl was getting up to leave.

What the fuck could I say.

"Sorry, I'm an idiot," might have been appropriate. Or maybe, "I am so embarassed."

But I don't think that I said anything. What could you expect me to say!

I mopped up the floor with a towel and waited for the 7:00 am alarm. I wished the morning would never come. I hoped that this was all part of a vivid drunken dream and that I would awake with the floor clean and without the stench of vomit in the nostrils.

It was real. I found out at 7:00 when I woke up hung over, and mopped up the floor some more.

I felt bad leaving the room like this for Evan, but I had no choice. I had a regatta at Yale in two hours, and I needed to leave now.

I left a note for him to figure things out simply.

"Evan-

Be Liberal
w/ the febreeze.
I will fix this
when I get back
from Yale.

Z"