13:53 - September 23, 2002
in which case
So when I woke up in someone else's bed because an incredibly drunk Mike was pounding on my back because he thought I was his roommate, who was in Arizona, it was a little strange. Martin and some girl he'd apparently met on the way home were making out in a chair right at my eye level. A cloud of pot smoke was wafting over from the direction of Jason's bed, and my throat had gone completely numb, rendering me dumb. It was the beginning of laryngitis, as I later found out, but at this insensible hour of 3:30 AM I thought someone had tear-gassed the dorm. Mike immediately and purposefully crawling under his bed only cemented that notion for me, until he moaned out, 'I'm just making it all stop spinning.'
'Mike, you stupid fuck,' said the random girl amazedly, 'get OUT from under your bed.'
'Mllhhmph,' mumbled Mike.
'That's not Ryan, is it?' the girl asked, peering her beer-scented breath at my hair and eyes poking out from beneath the two down comforters.
'YES, it's Ryan,' spat Jason from the top bunk across the room. 'Ryan with long and dyed hair and six extra inches of height and breasts, okay?'
The girl looked doubtfully at me, then shrugged and went back to straddling Martin.
I had a dream then about a giant octopus, and then, somewhere in the distance a different girl was whining, 'I'm SOooo fucked UPppp...' and there were flashes of green (more smoke) and the Trainspotting DVD started again, unnoticed, on the laptop, and Mike would only come out from under his bed to eat the pizza, and then only for five minutes. And two seconds later bright yellow blazed across the sky and the Golden Buffalo Marching Band began playing Queen covers on Farrand Field just beyond the blinds. Next door a rock flew out the window and hit a sousaphone directly on its bell.
Maybe this is the 'real' college experience, in which case... in which case I don't know.

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