Once again, I find myself during my Friday morning Spanish class re-evaluating the state of my life, instead of paying attention to the latest verb conjugation. This time, however, rather than complaining to my friends while eating a massive bowl of chips and queso, I decided I would share my story with my fellow University students in the hopes that I am not the only one with a good Thursday night story followed by a few Friday morning regrets.
During one bleary-eyed breakfast with my roommates, I realized that all of our lives, as of late, have taken on a similar pattern. Being upperclassmen, the overriding question around the table seemed to be, "Shouldn't we know better by now?"
With our first year complete, I thought we were supposed to be immune to the advances of those oh-so-charming frat stars. But it's only the third week of school, and I'm not quite sure the expectations of our newfound seniority have sunk in just yet. When all our escapades were told and tallied, we found ourselves with one spontaneous rickshaw ride down Rugby Road, a few real texts from last night that would put the similarly named Web site to shame, and the slightly hazy fates of our four missing house guests. Now, before you start to judge us too harshly, let me explain.
It's not as bad as it sounds ... Or at least most of it isn't.
Actually, the rickshaw ride wasn't bad at all. Next time though, I just need to remember that all rides have a destination and my apartment is, unfortunately, not on the Happy Rickshaw route. A review of the texts from Thursday night also wouldn't reveal anything too horrible, but that might be because - unlike their counterparts on TFLN - they weren't exactly English. But long practice with what we might call the "late night vernacular" of texting has trained me to understand that when my friend says, "Bo shmergleberg key," she is merely replying, "No, as a matter of fact, I do not have my key."
In the case of our missing house guests, let me say that there is a reason that University students are named after the Wahoo fish and students at other schools are not. They eventually made it back to our apartment Friday morning, but it seems that they had a bit of trouble propelling themselves that far the night before.
So now that you know the cause of most of our Friday morning grumblings, you can speculate about whether we should know better by now. My answer is yes and no.
I say yes because I think we are beyond the days when the somewhat less than glamorous results of our nightly activities should surprise us. That na
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