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After a day of particularly disciplined (for the most part) studying, and a night of being out on the town with Dani and Sar, my room looks a lot like the victim of a frat party. Perhaps it?s due to the brown bottles strewn around the room on top of the desk, under the bed, o the windowsill, some with caps on, others missing their hats, having been shoved under this piece of furniture or lost in the folds of blankets on my futon. Or, perhaps, it?s the bags of chips, half-empty, that must be gingerly stepped over in order to navigate the room. Or maybe it?s the randomized pattern of various socks peppering the floor.
Sar and I spent Friday morning staving off the demons of Nursing Fundamentals, a class that is not to be confused with the more enjoyable, less taxing, ?Nursing Fun,? which, regrettably, has not been offered at either of our schools. At around noon, we both decided that we couldn?t go on without munchies and/or a walk along the river. So we did both. We took a grey, rainy walk along the Merrimack, narrowly avoided being stalked by a middle-aged L.L. Bean model who was an unnervingly close ten steps behind us nearly the ENTIRE two and a half mile walk along the boulevard, and, from there, drove to the food store. When we got into the store, both of us realized how incredibly hungry we actually were when we passed food and felt like buying everything. It really is quite true when you?re warned not to shop on an empty stomach. Everything looked terrifyingly good (terrifying for college-student wallets), but we eventually settled on guacamole Doritos, a bucket of French onion dip, and yet another bag of plain chips. Oh, yes, and we bought, as Sar said, a ?six pack? of IBC root beer.*** The total was eight dollars and fifty-seven cents, and it was the most unregrettable eight dollars and fifty-seven cents that we?ve ever spent.
We ate, we drank, and became so over-studied, so sleep deprived, and so sugar-and-corn filled that we had a quick slow-down around two PM where I, crossed-legged on the floor, flopped forward so that my head, on top of my left arm, was planted in my books, my right arm sprawled above my head across the hardwood, it?s fingers gripping the remnants of my root beer. I fumbled with consciousness for fifteen minutes or so until Sarah got up to attempt photo documentation of my faux-drunkenness and I heard her move. I woke up promptly. After my power-nap, I perked up considerably and we spent another solid four hours studying, making out flashcards, and typing up notes until we got a call from Dani.
Dani came. We went to Borders. We saw a college jam band play for five minutes. As we were watching, the lead guitarist bent looooow at the mic and banged a heavy chord on his guitar, bopping his head and coming back up to the mic all at the same time to introduce the start of the guitar bridge, and Dani quipped, ?That?s the ?Chicks Dig This? move.? I grinned in response, and Dani and I commenced doing our own ?Guys Dig This? groove-to-the-music move, until she said, ?Heh. Look, the bassist is like, ?Whoa, those chicks over there are really totally digging us!?? I clapped my hand over my mouth and we dissolved into snickers so terrible that shortly after, we had to move along to other parts of the bookstore out of necessity. We navigated the hoardes of punk rocker wannabes throughout the store, and generally had an enjoyable time.
Of course, then, to end off the night the right way, we went to Wendy?s, where the food is always good and the guy that sits in the booth next to you always brings his teddy bear in a pink sweater with him and lays out a napkin and a plate of food for that said teddy so he can feed it. But perhaps that?s another story for another time.
*** When we passed by the alcohol aisle at the supermarket, I mentioned the humor of us buying rootbeer rather than liquor for our study fun, and Sar said, ?Well, look, if you really want me to buy you some, I will, weirdo? (she was lying). Later, when we got to my house, my brother remarked that it looked close to hilarious to see Sar carrying around a six pack of brown bottles, and she said, ?Yeah, I haven?t had any alcohol since my uncle?s wedding.? I was, of course, aghast ? Sar? Drinkin? likker? Could it be? She answered, ?Well? I didn?t know about it? it was in the fruit salad, okay??