Also known as BUMSS. Also known as AEPi. Also known as the story how I may have broken my toe.
The formal was last night. I ran into Lucas in the morning and he was acting fishy.
Lucas: Hey Clara, excited for tonight?
Me: Yeah. You should come!
Lucas: Nah. Do you know the rules?
Me: What rules?
Lucas: We're not a frat, and it's not a formal. The venue thinks we're a men's charity society.
Me: Right. Cool.
Apparently the mill (an historic landmark) doesn't host fraternity events, so the boys had to get creative. It wasn't a lie so much as a half-truth anyway. They definitely do charity work, and they are indeed a social society of sorts, if you're flexible.
It counts.
The formal itself was a ton of fun. All of the classes had to sing their serenades (Friday, Girlfriend, Party in the USA) while the dates watched in a mix of shock, glee, and horror. I did my share of peoplewatching (which you must know by now is one of my favorite activities). It was all a marvelous time.
Then Benny and Alissa and John and I watched Silence of the Lambs.
Because that makes a lot of sense.
On the way out though (taxi back to the frat house, frat to keeney), I tripped on some steps outside. Take that not as an indication of any inebriation (blasphemy!) but an inevitable consequence of the two facts that I was wearing heels and those particular steps had basically zero friction. I had to pretend I was okay, because the only thing more embarrassing than falling down the steps is falling down the steps and actually hurting yourself, but now my pinkie toe is still swollen and possibly broken.
Not so good.
Anyone who saw me limping down Wriston this morning (high-tailing it to an ultimately useless review session at the cruel hour of 11 AM) should know that I was fighting through the pain.
Love always,
Clara
P.S. This has been a rambly post. Look at how much I care.
The formal was last night. I ran into Lucas in the morning and he was acting fishy.
Lucas: Hey Clara, excited for tonight?
Me: Yeah. You should come!
Lucas: Nah. Do you know the rules?
Me: What rules?
Lucas: We're not a frat, and it's not a formal. The venue thinks we're a men's charity society.
Me: Right. Cool.
Apparently the mill (an historic landmark) doesn't host fraternity events, so the boys had to get creative. It wasn't a lie so much as a half-truth anyway. They definitely do charity work, and they are indeed a social society of sorts, if you're flexible.
It counts.
The formal itself was a ton of fun. All of the classes had to sing their serenades (Friday, Girlfriend, Party in the USA) while the dates watched in a mix of shock, glee, and horror. I did my share of peoplewatching (which you must know by now is one of my favorite activities). It was all a marvelous time.
Then Benny and Alissa and John and I watched Silence of the Lambs.
Because that makes a lot of sense.
On the way out though (taxi back to the frat house, frat to keeney), I tripped on some steps outside. Take that not as an indication of any inebriation (blasphemy!) but an inevitable consequence of the two facts that I was wearing heels and those particular steps had basically zero friction. I had to pretend I was okay, because the only thing more embarrassing than falling down the steps is falling down the steps and actually hurting yourself, but now my pinkie toe is still swollen and possibly broken.
Not so good.
Anyone who saw me limping down Wriston this morning (high-tailing it to an ultimately useless review session at the cruel hour of 11 AM) should know that I was fighting through the pain.
Love always,
Clara
P.S. This has been a rambly post. Look at how much I care.
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