Hold My Essay While I Drink A Beer

Haha! Essay's still due...but 2% per day REALLY isn't going to kill me. It might hurt my feelings a little when I get my paper BACK, but it really isn't going to KILL me. I can handle a little paper cut.

Dawson stopped by tonight. It's funny. Of all the people I tell to "call me anytime--I never sleep," he's the only one that takes me seriously. I mean, I think he called me a little before or after 1am, just to see if I was home so he could drop off something. And then, he wasn't going to drop by for another 1/2 an hour. I mean, it's not like I was going to be sleeping or anything (Shmelly and I were just watching CSI) but he's seriously the only one that trusts my insomnia.

So, 20 minutes later (he finished whatever early) he lets himself into my house--he IS Dawson, afterall--and we spend at least 45 minutes just standing by the door, rotating our conversation topics between where we used to work, where we work now, and various drunken experiences. Between the three of us, which do you think is worse:
1) Getting driven home by your friends, only to get pushed out of the car to pass out on your front lawn
2) Holding your friend's hair back while she's dry heaving over the toilet, only to move her out of the way so that YOU can puke in the same toilet, OR
3) Having your picture printed on the second page of your school paper while puking at the pub crawl competition (your fellow teammate stole the front page).
I'll let you (un)faithful commenters decide.

Anyway, by the time he left, we'd decided to make the most of my upcoming reading week by getting a bunch of friends together and drinking up more experiences to share. I say that's a plan.