Beer Pressure

Candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker.
Unless, apparently, you are in my room, at which point it takes a full four hours before you realize that you are, in fact, drunk.

I'm not talking about me (see previous post) but instead about twenty or so of my fellow participants, many (most?) of whom are underage, and many (most?) of whom are apparently not used to or familiar with drinking alcoholic, and so generally drank too much and acted like buffoons.
Which, again, would be super.
Except they were in my room.
And I was very, very tired.

I didn't kick them out initially, because the whole concept was introduced as "pre-drinking," which would have been fine. I went elsewhere for an hour, assuming that by the time I got back they'd've taken their dressed-for-clubbing selves and, you know, gone clubbing.
No such luck.

They stayed here, and drank and/or spoke gib in order to make it appear as if they had been drinking heavily (a concept which my father thinks is very much the reality, and which I will come back to in a moment) for several hours. Which, again, would have been great, except I wanted to go to bed.
And also I don't like most of them.
And also, I didn't care.

So, anyway.
I suppose I'll get back to my father, at this point. What happened was this:
I was bored after five minutes of being with the drunkards in my room, and so did what I do best, I got pissed (pissed off, not pissed as in drunk), grabbed the bare essentials, and went for a walk.
In DC.
In the middle of the night.
By myself.
In an unfamiliar neighborhood.
So that was super. I wanted to walk to the Lincoln Memorial. I got most of the way there, to the point where I could see it, but then there was construction, etc. so I kind of gave up and walked back. Please don't worry about me, I was fine. Then, I called one of my friends to complain. Basically she told me to get over myself and be social. So I hung up on her, and called the only other person I can talk to who would be up at this hour--my father. Choice number one, no, but whatever. I talked to him for a long time. He explained that probably most of the people who were "drunk" were, in fact, not drunk, but only pretending. Why? I have no idea. Peer pressure, possibly. My father said that they do this in order to fit in, and I should go talk to them. In fact, I have minimal respect for anyone who willingly does this (again, see previous post, "Fake Out") and as such didn't bother. On the other hand, probably they had a good time pretending to be drunk ('cause thats such a fun thing to do) whereas I had a crappy time being the only person not at the party and also not asleep.

I plan on making excessive amounts of noise early tomorrow morning in retribution.
On the other hand, it isn't that likely that I'll be awake early tomorrow morning, as I'm not asleep yet.

Last thing: WTF kind of Friday night party was this? It started around 10 and when I came back up from talking to my dad (which I was doing from outside my dorm) not only were very few people still drunk, but the party was over. That's what I call lame.
Also, as part of the Friday-night-lameness debacle, someone told me I was being a cockblock. In my life, nobody has ever told me that I was doing such a thing. Because, lets face it, I don't care.



In other news, I went to the Canadian Embassy today to obtain a student visa for next year. I didn't get the visa (because, of course, it has to go through sixteen layers of bureaucracy first and also because they wanted proof that I can afford not to live in a box when, in fact, I expect I will be living in a box) but it was nice to go to Canada for a few minutes. I even needed my passport to get in.