I'm at a toga party. From my vantage point, I can see drunken first-years playing pool, science nerds wrapped in white bedsheets and pub staff rolling their eyes and waiting eagerly for the night to end. One guy comes up to me and asks if in a Russian accent if I like to dance. "No," I answer sourly. He's drunk, I'm not. This does not make me happy. He asks me for a hug. "No," I growl at him, before he pulls me into his sweaty armpit.
Wait, before I continue, let me clarify that my use of present tense isn't some clever writing technique that I'm using to make this entry more captivating. I'm using the present tense because I'm actually at the bar. Right now. On my computer. On a Friday night. At a toga party. A toga party being hosted by the Ryerson Science Course Union.
They are staring at me because it's 1 a.m. and I'm on my computer, surrounded by drunk people. (Also, I don't have a sleek, discreet and moderately fashionable Mac. I'm definitely typing this on my chunky Dell laptop that is liable to explode at any given moment.) I am THE nerd at the nerd party.
And why am I here, exactly?
Because they kicked me out of the library when it closed at midnight.
I want a beer.
Also, I was the only one at the library on the fourth floor tonight. Two things immediatly came to mind:
1. "Wow, it is possible to have sex in a university library at night. It just has to be a Friday night!"
2. "Wait a second. In the horror movies, don't the girls always have sex in the university library and promptly afterwards they are bludgeoned or stabbed to death by some knife-wielding maniac?"
I started to get kind of creeped out. The lights weren't even on when I got up there. I had to go do something to change the sex/horror movie mood (neither things are condusive to writing):