U: Legend of the Potachos

This is the story of two people who fell in love without realizing it. They had been side by side for a very long time and never seen each other in such a light until one night, they met up in a bar and were brought together, and they found out they had more in common than they thought; and they belonged together. Now they're inseperable.

Those two people's names? Potatos and nachos. This is the legend of the Potachos.

Though I did not partake in potachos, knowing of their mere existance has profoundly changed the way I view the world. Last night, when they were revealed to me, was an event indeed.

I had been having a stressful couple of days. It was at long last the final day of classes of the school year, but the work was not done for me. I posted on thursday night how stressed out I was working on my articles for Sceneandheard. I wrote one review that night, but had not even listened to the other CD the whole way through. Tired, I settled into Sal's class inhaling my coffee. Mansoor, interested in the folk-rock-sounding Bryson. He proceeded to do a little critiquing for me, noting Bryson's finger-picking techniques and, in his opinion, limited vocals (given that his voice actually gives out and cracks to a wheeze by the end of the CD, it's a valid criticism.) The review wasn't such a big deal, it only needed to be like 200 words. My big problem was my article on the Church -- the background I'd gotten on it was bollocks, and it was due at the end of the day. Meanwhile, I had a test in Sal's class and after that, only two hours until Jody's.

Someone up there, and I suspect it is not the big man himself, but someone up there likes me. Time got on my side as the copy editing final didn't take me very long (admittedly, not a great sign,) so I took the opportunity and cold-called the Reverend at his home. He gladly opened up to me and unleashed a few of his sermons, gave me some backgorund on who he was, basically, plenty enough material for an article. I sat down, went over my notes, popped in the Bryson CD, and let 'er rip.

From Stephen Douglas' class, I remembered the cardinal importance of a good lead for a feature article, followed by a proper outline. I master-crafted my lead, but forewent the outline for lack of time, relying as usual on my natural intuition for storytelling, much as I am showing now.

After only a couple of hours of straight typing (and lunch) my article was complete at 840 words, just a dash above the wordcount he requested (my trademark - I'm a wordy muthafucka and you should all just deal with that.) Satisfied, I headed over to Jody's class to catch a couple presentations and call it a day.

I got home just after 2 and decided to go to the bank, tagging along as Eric returned a DVD to Blockbuster. On the way, we had a discussion and are working on a new Redneck project, which we may be writing soon.

In the meantime, I finished my last review, had dinner, etc. The event of the night was a gathering of the secon-dyears at Monaghan's, a place I'd personally never drank, although I'd been inside years ago when I applied for a job as a dishwasher (which I obviously never got.) I got there at about 10:30 to find many people were already around; Amanda and her fiancé, Tammy and her boyfriend, Deanna and her boyfriend... yep, I definitely belonged at that table. Okay, Ed was there too, but he was drinking water (square.) Mitch and his girlfriend also soon arrived, making the count 2 couples to every single-person at the table. it was at times difficut to stay comfortable.

Nobody knew how the night was going to go. There had been a lot of hemming and hawing beforehand about "Oh I don't know if I want to go, probaboy won't be anyone there, what fun is there in that blah blah laaaaame..." but I did my part to marshall this thing, telling people "Just fuckin'... come already." I mean, if there's alcohol, how bad could a thing be?

And you know what - I was right. Friday night was the best night out I've had in a long time (and really the only one I've had in like a month, so take that how you will.) We all got in an argument about my drink of choice, which has all year long been Gin & Tonic. I was forced to go on the defensive against allegations (baseless ones!) that gin is a drink for old ladies. This was in response to the fact that I declared Rum to be "a drink for women and pirates" which, if you think about it, is true. for one thing, the only person drinking rum was Amanda. For another, rum is a drink for women and pirates! Yo ho ho! The only OTHER people who drink rum are lame teenagers who don't know enough to try other things.

Okay, so I"m biased, because I don't like rum. But all I really meant is that women enjoy rum more than men do, potentially because it's sweet or whatever (I also don't care for rum butter lifesavers.) So they're trying to convince me that gin is for old women, but I countered, saying gin was the main ingredient in martinis, the drink of James Bond. THEN someone says "James Bond was gay," which is just absurd, so that's how I know I won the argument.

The night continued and I did my best to stay on the curve of conversations, entertaining and lively, cracking wise about pirates and potachos, among other things. It was actually a really good night, and I never actually felt awkward, even after the table was evacuaated en masse by all the couples but for Mitch, (and thne joined by Andrew and Melissa -- yep, there were 5 different couples throughout the night. Just saying.) and even as Mitch forced upon me my fifth G&T of the night, which I took a walk with, eventually going to get to know friendly people from the course I hadn't had the opportunity to talk much to. After all, alcohol is a social lubricant, and man I was viscous. Or something? That sounds more gorss than I'd intended.

Eric, much to my chagrin, is channel-hopping like mad. It's annoying, but I put up with it because, well, he can be touchy when he's got the remote (which is always.) Thankfully, he's vowed never to read this thing, which is a good thing for me, since I'd rather not discuss it with family.

Anyway, the night faded out when the lights came on (actually quite long after that happened,) Amy qouted my favourite one-liner ("Butterface") and everyone decided to go to someone's house, which I interpreted as a cue to call it a night. I got home just after 2, put on a DVD (Lost in Translation) and went to bed.

It was cold today. Hopefully someday soon it gets a little more tolerable.

We're not as far as you think, you and I.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto