"oh my god, I swallowed a quarter last night."

3/17-18/10-
Julia Julia, Julia, oceanchild, calls me. So I sing a song of love, Julia, Julia, seashell eyes, windy smile, calls me. So I sing a song of love, Julia, her hair of floating sky is shimmering, glimmering in the sun. Julia, Julia, morning moon, touch me. So I sing a song of love. Julia, when I cannot sing my heart I can only speak my mind. Julia, Julia, sleeping sand, silent cloud, touch me. So I sing a song of love. Julia hum hum hum...calls me. So I sing a song of love for Julia, Julia, Julia.


HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY
I wake up to my lovely roommates in lovely moods and a lovely sunny sky. Julia goes to work everyday at 2:00pm. I decided to paint a large peacock on her wardrobe out in the beautiful sun. I felt accomplished already.

5:00pm- Jared, Leah and I decide to drink by the river. Drinking by the river means hiking and climbing up a 47 degree hill. This sacred place was the drinking grounds for a bottle of shiraz, psychedelic shots of whiskey, and numerous inappropriate child kidnapping jokes. *Always keep the baby teeth.* I return home and proceed to drink more whiskey and half a bottle of ice cold white wine while getting ashlee, kacey, julia, leah and erin festive for the holiday. So much green eyeshadow and hairspray. Bowling anyone? Yes please! Bring the cup of wine? Yes please! There we meet up with more hooligans, already well on their way to slosh central. A vodka tonic and some cherry gin drink later Jase and I are heavily grinding to lady gaga. Wait, the whole fucking bowling alley was grinding to lady gaga. (Note: people in decorah do not grind to lady gaga.) Departure. Drunk already. Jase and I hand hold and talk six block's worth of anal sex story swapping. Why not.
11pm? Bar. The Haymarket's busy. Prime time for crime time. Julia and I end up in a very intense game of quarters. How is not sure at all. But this game was bumpin'. Ruffian men and women just chugging beer. (Not green. Sad.) Then there's this cold fish sitting across the table from me. He had a red shirt and a semi-mohawk thing going on. Do I know this man? No. Do I know his name? No. He starts staring at me. Not like "oh you're cute, you should ride me later.." but this deathly "I will not take my eyes off you until you're six feet under stare." But I'm wasted and it's fine. Then sporadically quarters are being thrown at me by this man.. darted directly at my tits. Remember the stare. What the FUCK?! You harassing creeptastic, I got completely hammered off your pitchers. So, thank you.
2am- bar close. Don't worry, a random Luther fiddle player is posted outside on the step ready. I've never seen such so much Irish jigging in all my life. If I never go actually see Riverdance, I'll be happy knowing I saw twentysome beautiful drunk people dancing their asses off. Wonderful.
2:30am- after bar? Wuqwp*#+@. That is the only explanation of what I remember pertaining to how we actually made the decision where to go and who to go with... which turned out to be Bobbo and some crazy folk. Bobbo, ohh Bobbo. Jack Nicholson with down syndrome and bad teeth. We hold hands the whole evening/walk to the after-bar. Do I know Bobbo? No, I've met him thrice times. But somehow it's completely ok because I am wasted? After-bar consists of more beer, Elvis talk, Julia on the floor pinching some boy all night, massive pot smoking and lots of giggling.
3, 4am?- home. tuna cheese helper. Julia and Bobbo start bickering about political activity and barking insults at each other. Calm down bumpkins. The rest is just blurry. Falling asleep, three little mice cuddling in the bean bags like dirty alcoholics. (Bean bugs.) I fall asleep to a Bobbo on my bosom while I romantically cupped his goofy melon of a head. Yeah, cupping. His head. Lord.
9, 10am- Jase, Leah and Jared all witnessed the beautiful sight throughout the morning hours of walking to the bathroom. When I awoke however, I was spooning a Julie. Fucking ridiculous. I would have paid some big money to have captured a picture of Bobbo the morning after. I'm still laughing. Grody bear.
11am- Julia and I lay back down only to realize recapturing the night (still feeling drunk) is way better than sleeping a day away. Next thing I know I'm rolling off the bed, I'm feeling like i'm going to vomit, I just cannot stop laughing. Jase and Erin find us in teary ruins. The laughter is taken outside. Sunshine, oh beautiful sunshine. Julia laughs so hard she pees on the deck. This is the reason why I came here.

St. Patty's day = success.
I love these people.