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Last night was the final installment of the St. Patrick's weekend of excessive fun. Chel, Amanda and I went to The Brass to celebrate the day at about 9, which we thought was early enough that we wouldn't have to wait in the cold outside. But we were wrong, as usual. We got in around 9:45, after watching the bouncer let the whole Rugby team cut in line, then made with the drinking. Chel had about four beers, I think I had three drinks, and Amanda had two. We were all pretty drunk by the end, though. For some reason (I can't remember how this got started), Chel and I kept joking all night about how we were going to make the Great Canadian Movie, and laughing ourselves sick coming up with scenes. The main plot involved a guy going to either Montréal or Europe and going up to people to tell them that he spoke French, and was therefore obviously Canadian. But the thing was, he would say it all in English, and when someone talked to him in French, he'd say something like, "Hey, don't go all Italian on me!" Somehow, it made sense last night. We also kept yelling "Sweet Mary and Joseph!" and on His golden throne!" Again, I have no idea why, but it was really fucking hilarious last night. It doesn't even make sense. Somehow we'd melded "sweet Mary and Joseph" with "little baby Jesus on His golden throne" (two of the things our character was going to say all the time in the movie) into one, and we though this was absolute comedy gold. We also made jokes about being Irish (since everyone was claiming that they were Irish last night) and putting on fake accents. And we started dancing in the middle of the bar when no one else was. Remembering this stuff makes me really embarassed, and glad that everyone there was in upper years so we don't have to explain ourselves to anyone. Chel did say in Film this morning though that I was a cute little dancer. That makes me slightly less embarassed. I honestly have no idea how Amanda expected to do a lab after coming back from the bar. That was just insane.
Anyway, that was that. No more going out for me, at least for another long while (like, maybe until next term).
Today, I got up at 10, went to breakfast with Chelsea, then Film and English, then came back here to work and get together my resumé. I was going to apply to work at the Common Ground, the student-run coffee shop on campus, but then my dad called and got all "you need to concentrate on your studies" on me. So I'm not going to apply today (I don't feel like walking to the JDUC to submit my form, anyway), but maybe I'll still get a job in town next term. We'll see.
Another thing I noticed upon remembering last night: I say the word "retarded" quite often. This is disturbing me, since I can't recall ever using it before, and since I find it disgusting and terribly crude when others use it. When did I start saying this? And why? I will be making a conscious effort to erradicate this word from my vocabulary from this point on.
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