Day 1
This weekend was rivaled by few, triumphant above many. For those of you that don't go to ARGS and suck, it was the infamous German field trip. Destination: Washington D.C. for the big bad V.O.G.S. convention. We were supposed to leave at 1:00 Friday afternoon. Not as good as leaving in the morning, but I still missed some classes. The participants of this wonderful excursion were Megan, Miranda, Skeeter, Courtney, Scott, and myself. Our small but capable video design team consisted of all, with the exception of Scott. Due to extremely bummish qualities, the video was partially completed by the time 1:00 rolled around. The wonderful Gazal delayed our leaving until 2:00, just so we could get our video finished. After an hour of feverish working, it was half completed. We burned what we had and left, still hopeful that the rest of the trip would be better than the video-making process. Understatement of the century. The four hour trip was mildly amusing, talked with Miranda and Skeeter a decent amount, Megan was off doing something else. Oh my God, I ate so much during this trip, it was not even funny. We stopped and ate at McDonald's, where I had my second lunch. It felt so strange eating a greasy burger around Miranda, a vegetarian. No matter, I gave into the craving within minutes of me sitting down. The remainder of the trip was standard, uneventful. Around 7:00, we roll into the Hampton Inn, pimping the red and white Rent-A-Bus. Quickly dropping off our various supplies, we dash back to the Go-Mobile and travel to the "Battle Of The Brains." Not knowing what to expect, our group was anxious and restless. As soon as we walked into the auditorium, my heart sank, and all my dreams with it. 200 or 300 German students sat facing a stage, occupied with five tables and a podium. Minutes after our seating, this bald little announcer calls out "Appomattox Regional Regional Governors School." His voice dripping with spite, for even he knew we were destined for failure. The unlucky prisoners forced upstage were Skeeter, Scott, and myself. To my complete and utter dismay, Megan somehow evaded all responsibility. Our loss would not have been nearly as consuming if Megan had been up there with me. We were so quiet, people were actually beginning to forget we were there. After a question about some famous German man that I had never heard of, Skeeter started yelling. The question had already been responded to, but she kept going! "Oh my God! NO! I KNEW that one! Jesus freakin' Christ!" By that point, she had managed to get everyone looking at her. After many umcomfortable seconds, the game continued. After our round, we took our seats, painfully avoiding the laughter filled glares of the other V.O.G.S. contestants. Next up, the Mini-Olympics. This we did fairly well in, we placed fourth. It made no difference though, only the top three schools were recognized. 9:45 swings around, we return to the palace with the intention of swimming away our grief. Miranda, Skeeter, and Courtney don their swim-suits. Megan and I along simply for lack of other things to do. What a surprise, the pool closed right as we arrived. The pool being at the Holiday Inn across the street, we took advantage of the piano in this little space near the lobby. Skeeter starts playing wonderfully and what do you know? Crowds start gathering from nowhere, ranging from old women to 11 year old children. This continues until Gazal's husband arrived with the pizza. Combining tables, we all sit, I filling my bloated belly even more. Then Pistachio (Mr. Gazal) comes up with the great idea of playing this game where everyone around the table takes turns revealing personal information about themselves. First, he asked what would be the one thing we would change about ourselves if given the opportunity. I have no idea what came over me, but for whatever reason, I was honest. I said I would change the way I looked and Gazal nearly bitch-slapped me. She tried to convince me that I should pick something else and that there was nothing wrong with the way I looked, but Pistachio calmed her down. At 12:00 we are all dismissed and told to report to our rooms. Megan and Miranda to theirs, Scott and I to ours. After many minutes of Scott slowly running his eyes up and down my body, I hear the distinct voices of friends outside the door. I open the door and what before my wondering eyes do appear? Miranda and Megan, each holding a beer! (That last part was thrown in to make the lines rhyme) This is where the fun began. Everything else had been great, but the rest... the rest was history. We escaped from the Scott and explored the dank underdark of the hotel. At about three, we had already returned to my room, Miranda was falling asleep, Megan and I had run out of conversation, and Scott was rambling about ways of killing people and various weapons. By the time he gets to axes and "Man Hammers" (What the hell is that?) I wake Miranda up and we flee, for our very lives were at stake. It was three in the morning, I was not going back to the room and Megan and Miranda were not going to leave me. With great anticipation, we decide to make a pilgrimage to the lobby, hoping beyond hope it was still open. It was. Filling our bellies with junk food and garble, we start talking to the amazing woman behing the counter. Her name was Vernetta and she was the best person ever. Eventually, we begin exploring and discover a Business Center and a Fitness Room. Starting with the Business Center, we call my room and awaken scott. The conversation went something like this:
Scott: uugh... hello?
Me: Hey Scott! Did I wake you?
Scott: uuuuuugggghhhhhhhhhhhh....... yeah, you-
Me: HAHA! Good!
Giggling like a school girl, I came up with the idea of calling back every half hour, just to ruin his trip. Another great call consisted of nothing except for Megan saying "Heeeeyyyyyyyy" and about 30 seconds of insane girlish laughter. Next up on the express line to fun was the Fitness Room. Awesome Megan came up with a brilliant idea, we should race treadmills. With the reflexes of a cat, she quickly set her treadmill to max speed. Right before entering hyper-space, she decided to lift her body off the machine and come gently back down. This was a huge failure and she was rolled backwards with much force. Flopping around like a rag-doll, she careened into the wall and collapsed on the floor, lifeless. Nothing more than an empty shell of a girl. Slowly rolling her head around toward me, her eyes were glazed just a bit. Then she bursts out laughing, despite the fact that she was bleeding in many places. After several failed attempts, we came to the ultimate conclusion that Scott had unplugged the phone. I snuck into his room and plugged the phone back in, and then opened the blinds for Megan and Miranda. I then tried to call him from the cell while we were watching him sleep, but alas, for whatever reason the plan did not work. Determined to do something, I tried to take the remote control for the television and turn it up to insane heights from outside the room, but the batteries were dead. One final, desperate act remained. We began to throw stale red candy at him. With a grumble, we heard him mutter "Jeffrey, if your throw one more I'll..." but it was too late! We had already slammed the door closed and dissapeared off into the night. After such an experience, the legendary three are at the point of boredom. Nothing else can comapre to something like that. For the remainder of the time until dawn, we watch cheesy old 20's movies and Comedy Central until breakfast was served. Even though we were all filled to the brim with candy and other useless garbage, we slump toward the newly opened breakfast buffet. Right as we are reaching the doughnut section, this old hag demands that Megan wear shoes before touching the food. I seriously would have knocked her out if Megan had not been so willing to return to the room. After that whole situation was settled, we grabbed some crusty loaves and sat down to eat. One by one, people began to emerge from their rooms, signaling the end of day 1.
As for other recent news, I have started likeing somebody again. I say again because I liked her, supressed it for a while, and started again. No matter, I'm almost certain she doesn't feel the same way. But, you never know, if she started to ... maybe something good would come out of all this. Hopefully she will initiate something, because I most certantly am not going to put myself into that shit again without a good reason. No matter what, I am refusing to get my hopes up. I have come to the ultimate conclusion that since more times than not, the person I feel for will not feel the same way, I no longer expect them to. That is a step up than what it was before, where I like someone, think about them all the time for a month, and come spiraling downward when they say we should be friends.
Scott: uugh... hello?
Me: Hey Scott! Did I wake you?
Scott: uuuuuugggghhhhhhhhhhhh....... yeah, you-
Me: HAHA! Good!
Giggling like a school girl, I came up with the idea of calling back every half hour, just to ruin his trip. Another great call consisted of nothing except for Megan saying "Heeeeyyyyyyyy" and about 30 seconds of insane girlish laughter. Next up on the express line to fun was the Fitness Room. Awesome Megan came up with a brilliant idea, we should race treadmills. With the reflexes of a cat, she quickly set her treadmill to max speed. Right before entering hyper-space, she decided to lift her body off the machine and come gently back down. This was a huge failure and she was rolled backwards with much force. Flopping around like a rag-doll, she careened into the wall and collapsed on the floor, lifeless. Nothing more than an empty shell of a girl. Slowly rolling her head around toward me, her eyes were glazed just a bit. Then she bursts out laughing, despite the fact that she was bleeding in many places. After several failed attempts, we came to the ultimate conclusion that Scott had unplugged the phone. I snuck into his room and plugged the phone back in, and then opened the blinds for Megan and Miranda. I then tried to call him from the cell while we were watching him sleep, but alas, for whatever reason the plan did not work. Determined to do something, I tried to take the remote control for the television and turn it up to insane heights from outside the room, but the batteries were dead. One final, desperate act remained. We began to throw stale red candy at him. With a grumble, we heard him mutter "Jeffrey, if your throw one more I'll..." but it was too late! We had already slammed the door closed and dissapeared off into the night. After such an experience, the legendary three are at the point of boredom. Nothing else can comapre to something like that. For the remainder of the time until dawn, we watch cheesy old 20's movies and Comedy Central until breakfast was served. Even though we were all filled to the brim with candy and other useless garbage, we slump toward the newly opened breakfast buffet. Right as we are reaching the doughnut section, this old hag demands that Megan wear shoes before touching the food. I seriously would have knocked her out if Megan had not been so willing to return to the room. After that whole situation was settled, we grabbed some crusty loaves and sat down to eat. One by one, people began to emerge from their rooms, signaling the end of day 1.
As for other recent news, I have started likeing somebody again. I say again because I liked her, supressed it for a while, and started again. No matter, I'm almost certain she doesn't feel the same way. But, you never know, if she started to ... maybe something good would come out of all this. Hopefully she will initiate something, because I most certantly am not going to put myself into that shit again without a good reason. No matter what, I am refusing to get my hopes up. I have come to the ultimate conclusion that since more times than not, the person I feel for will not feel the same way, I no longer expect them to. That is a step up than what it was before, where I like someone, think about them all the time for a month, and come spiraling downward when they say we should be friends.