"And I can't fight this feeling anymore, I've forgotten what I started fighting for"
-Can't Fight this Feeling, REO Speedwagon

Gong Show.

That’s the best way to describe the weekend which did not include Caving, Beasts, or be bop, but did include Rooms of Red, sushi, and the film Perfume: Story of a Murderer for reasons unknown. Gong-oriffic (Gonorrific?) was Saturday’s birthday extravaganzas by way of Lauren and Bryna my gypsy roommate who spends less time at my house than Eve does.

Since the exciting details are few and far between when not discussing birthday partays- sushi, stale cream cheese bagels, crazy random boy asking for directions and then telling Eve that I must not like her that much, breakfast with Eve and Carri, movie trivia by the pound (I won with a “James Woods” and claimed my bragging rights…I’m waiting to challenge you McNeil), Dreamgirls wins Worst Movie Ever award as I would rather watch Perfume again, and the crunching of pistachio shells under my feet and cat, who for all intensive purposes is running around with no less than 8 or so names ranging from Merv Griffin, Pumpkinhead, Scraps, and Catface to Orson Wells, Atticus (Catticus) Finch, and Andrew. He answers to none.

"It's time to bring this ship into the shore, And throw away the oars, forever "

The 411 on the parties of Saturday begins with randoms over at my humble abode which was decked out for the occasion (Rough translation: it was clean, festooned with throw pillows and someone stuffed the Christmas tree behind the couch). Bryna’s friends were cool and one had good taste in music and common sense to bring over Pulp’s “Different Class” before making way for some Velvet Underground. I was impressed, but only mildly as I glared my glare of indifference. After much drinking, Eve, (roommate responsible for Perfume) Cassandra and I met up with the lovely Lauren and Patrick at the Madison for G&T’s and lousy service. After flagging down a waitress 3 times- at least two of which did not involve me physically snapping at her and yelling “hey!”-Cassandra went and ordered our own food. Against my better judgement, it was decided to leave her a paltry $1.32 in tips which had been rubbed on and inserted into one greasy looking chicken finger shaped like a seahorse perched atop a ssqueezable bottle of ketchup.
Festivities aside it was good for drinks and shout outs to Lauren, Patrick, and Todd with whom we reminisced potluck evenings and drinking binges with. Since the night was full of things to do, we took our leave and headed to the newest dive bar to be added to the roster: Joe Mercury’s.

"And if I have to crawl upon the floor, Come crushing through your door"

The type of place usually reserved for rummies, old men, townies, and pool hall players, our party of 12 flooded the bar and demanded satisfaction by way of karaoke. By the time we arrived, Bryna was gyrating on her own in the middle of the “dance floor” (read: walkway between bars) dancing to karaoke. And so the night continued with stellar performances by the crew and a “Step by Step” NKOTB flashback starring myself and Eve. One of the two standout performances of the evening was an old man who gave the best rendition EVER of “Lose Yourself” by Eminem. Seriously. Goodies all around. The music came on and I thought it was a mistake, but Grandpa nailed it, word for word, better than any of us could have. Of course, we all had to get up an dance to it. I think we started a trned as dancing did not seem the norm but by the end, even the locals were dancing along with us.

Not to totally brag or inflate my ego any, but the second highlight performance of the night was by none other than myself and Cassandra. Not to be taken in a “Celine Dion, I am the best singer in the world” type of bragging, but by all other accounts and high fives, we blew “Livin’ on a Prayer” away. Eve will support this statement. Totally rocked it out and had everyone dancing and singing along with us, pumping fists in the air. Even old men saluted me. And thus, we gave Joe Mercury’s a night to remember…until the next time we can get a drunk gang together on a Thursday through Sunday night.

"And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might "

The dude that was supposedly “perfect” for me because he looked like a “British rock star…like he could be in Franz Ferdinand” looked like…..

ANDRE LOISELLE. (noted Carleton "hot" film prof...which doesn't say much for C.U's film staff)

And not in a good way. And he danced like a fool.

‘Nuff said.
Yay Oscar nominations tomorrow! At least 2 of us are excited, and the rest just don’t care…

"You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night"