And now one of our favorite features: The Dumbest Thing I Ever Did, written by Abby Roberts ’15. Not physically though, because she broke her wrist. Click here for more in this series.
I was told not to pregame Soiree because there was going to be a lot of alcohol provided for us– it wouldn’t even be necessary to drink before, you could get sufficiently wasted there. But you see, I move to the beat of my own drum, which means I started drinking at 5 pm, so by 8 pm I was G2G. (So good to go. I don’t think I can explain how good I was.)
I showed up to Soiree’s sparkling lights and empty dance floor wearing my best party dress. I twirled around on my own and drank all of the wine they could not stop me from taking. Even champagne. I don’t even like it but I put it all in my mouth. I put it all in my mouth.
There was a sea of wine coating the dance floor. According to unnamed sources, a different girl fell every ten seconds. These are facts. There is data supporting it. I will make graphs to show you later. But I was wearing heels and I didn’t fall once. Not now, not then, not ever.
I really didn’t fall, though. I was very stable. I walked all the way to New Apts. I may have taken some breaks on the way home to sit and cry a little bit for truly unknown reasons. The story loses a little bit of steam here because I got to New Apts and sat on my own hand as my friend got ready for bed. There’s no punch line, because it doesn’t punch you- it sits on you. Softly. Let me get it straight: I sat on my hand and broke my wrist. Okay? Alright.
Doctor Doolittle* says it will take five more weeks to heal, but that could be wrong, as I have a feeling he thinks I’m a horse. If you have any advice on how to go about writing my finals, gimme a heads up, because I am dictating this currently to my friend and I don’t trust her not to add beautiful and witty insight like the beautiful flower she is, she’s so pretty.
*This is my real doctor. This is the name of my actual doctor, this is his actual name