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Last night my roommate commited the ultimate imbibing faux pas and drunk dialed her mother (note: I have approval to discuss this). I have come to her aid with a gallon or so of orange gatorade to make amends, even though I somehow found myself alone, at Lit, at 4am babbling to some guy about music and taking a CD from him which I then lost. Luckily Seth came to my rescue, got me an avocado sandwich at 7A and let me pass out while we watched The Royal Tenenbaums on his lap top ("this is sooo college"). I told him he had to Friendster me today. We'll see how that happens.

Why did I even end up going out? Not quite sure. I didn't even manage to get anywhere until almost 1 am... and for some reason EVERY time I walk into a bar at the beginning of the night they have to be playing an Interpol song. Niagara is the lamest bar ever. Lit was a complete cluster fuck, and apparently there was some huge brawl outside that I, of course, missed entirely. And how come every bar is insanely packed when it seems like everyone is staying home because it's FREEZING. I don't get it. Still, you can't turn down free drinks (well, at least I can't). I think we took a cab from Sophie's (where I took one and a half - thanks roomie - minty shots which the bartender CLAIMED were lemondrops that made me instantly want to curl up and die) to Lit.. which makes us the ultimate lazy people.

At least there is a good round of teevee on tonight that I can immerse myself in. Ohh but apparently there is also karaoke at Lit on Sundays.

Sweet. Let's go have some SakAAAAYYYYY. Sorry, only my roommate is going to understand that one.

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