halloween party (dos)

I'm sitting in my room listening to "Band of Horses" while people recuperate from last night's shenanigans. Halloween Party Dos we called it. Last year the housemates had a pretty baller Halloween party, and this year we decided to go all-out. Not one but two kegs, the premier being pumpkin ale from Rock Bottom Brewery (the perks of partnership continues); an assortment of snacks and a bonfire where we roasted hot dogs, beer bong in the basement, and a house flooded with people I love. The pumpkin ale was gone before the party even started (thanks to pre-gaming), but I didn't drink at all at this party, so it didn't affect me much. I'm the kind of guy who just likes a beer here and there, and some bourbon as an even rarer special treat. It was great seeing Tony and Jessie, and even Katie drove an hour and a half to partake in the festivities, and it was good catching up with her again. I'm not sure how many hot dogs I ate, but I do know they were the best-cooked hot dogs I'd ever had. I went to bed around 2 in the morning and the party was still going hard. Lots of drunk singing to eighties songs, people keeling over, the drunk antics soaring through the roof. No one can deny it's fun to watch. 

Jessie took a jello shot for the first time, and then we smoked hookah in the basement. She's loving being married, and she told me all sorts of stories about married life, and it made me look forward to the day when I can tell such stories. I'm so old-fashioned, I know: it's a particular quirk. She asked how I was doing, and I told her I was doing good, which is true, but she could tell I seemed a bit out-of-it, and I told her why, and she was quite empathetic. While I know that she and Tony didn't drive two hours to the party just for me, I do feel honored that Jessie made time to get some one-on-one time with me (or at least try to; wherever we went, there were people swooning and hollering). She lives all the way out in Mahomet, Illinois (or somewhere around there), so I don't get to see her that often, and these times are prized. 

Speaking of Mahomet, I drove through there Tuesday on my way back from Wisconsin. "How was Wisconsin?" you ask (as everyone seems to do). It was good, really good. Two thirds of the adventures have been exposed in the last post ("the 17th week") but Monday's adventures will be covered shortly (i.e. tomorrow). All in all it was a great weekend, beautiful weather, good company, basically a grand ol' time. But, to be honest, things have gone downhill in that department, and that's a long story, and one I don't really feel like writing about (The Anchor's reserved for such writing); besides, pretty much everyone who reads this blog is a big enough part of my life to already know this). Nevertheless I'm doing all right, maybe even good, though the numbness of it all still hasn't worn off (except for in the late-night and early-morning moments). 

P.S. A Message for Dylan: "Tyler told me you read my blog every day, but apparently not my emails. So in case you've forgotten about our email exchanges, please WRITE ME BACK. And in case you failed to notice, the 'please' is more a polite gesture than anything. I'm actually commanding you to do it."

P.S.S. A Message for Dylan from Amanda: "WRITE ME BACK!" She said she emailed you or something, and she's questioning your love for her or something like that, I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention. But you should write her back. After you write ME back, of course.

P.S.S.S. I have nothing for this one.