February 8, 1999.

Today is the anniversary of my second Fireball...the rowdy one when I got plastered before even entering the building and inadvertently had a bunch of pics taken with my underwear showing. The one where Paris and Ophelia and I stayed up until noon the next day, talking of nothing in particular. The one where my friends decided to streak back campus and we took the opportunity to stash their clothes in the freezer...upon which, the 2 boys involved stood around bare-assed until we could stop laughing long enough to give them their clothes. The one where we stole ice cream, smoked pot on the college roof, and danced in the jukebox room until 4 a.m. The one where I abandoned Alexi in the coat-check line right at the beginning of the night so that Ophelia and myself could spend the entire night chasing after Paris, who was chasing after Lady Godiva who was chasing after something else entirely. Probably the greatest Fireball of my life, but one I wouldn't repeat for a million monkeys.

Some anecdotes are like that.

Stumbled through a very weary Monday. (I really wish that I'd been allowed to sleep in after Fireball, but we had to get the girls back home before noon, so I was awake and holding court from my bed five hours after lights-out. The waffles were worth it, though.) There were a few highlights.

To whit: I almost fell asleep in the middle of a guest lecture - in a class of ten, so I couldn't hide. Caught up on my Fireball gossip with Wilson...breakups, bad outfits and more! (aside: I should've noted that I avoided Ophelia at all times during the Fireball, but I ran past her enough times to see that I looked twice as good as she...I don't care who you are, bumblebee slippers and a formal dress do not go together. And I do love to be catty, darling.) Dirk called to insist that I provide a footnote to my complaint about him a week ago...that he didn't intend to exclude me from the beauty & confidence grouping, and that I shouldn't let this portrait of him stand (as you can see, I've reluctantly acquiesced to his request).

At tea, Guy tried to make me squirm by obsessing on my comment that he has an overbearing personality. It's true, but I don't think it's a necessarily negative thing. The whole incident displays my two most prominent skills: inference and summary. It'll be quite the asset when I'm finally a highschool teacher, but now it just makes my essays mediocre. And to cap off the night, Violet came by to visit for a minute and went into a little dog frenzy of sniffing and jumping. I wish all my visitors did that.

And that's all, kids. See you tomorrow (it's my day off, you know).