mountain weekend

Through a series of random events, I found myself Charleston-bound on Thursday night. One horrendously filthy lie, a number one from Wendy's, and four glorious hours of my ipod on shuffle later, I had arrived in the All-American City. Holly Berry and I had a date with Conan but then PTFO in expectation of the weekend full of debauchery that awaited us in Fontana, North Carolina. Friday morning Hol had class (sucka!) so the Notorious V.I.C. and I hit up King Street for some breakfast. Majestic Grill was good to us--but not good enough. After our first breakfast, we headed next door to see what Breuggers had to offer. Yikesss. An hour before I was supposed to meet Hollis back at her apartment (I had her keys), Victoria decided to send us on a wild goose chase for the paddle she was supposed to have made for her initiation that weekend. So off we went--the blind leading the blind--to the closest Michael's. A half hour later, tomtom announced that we had reached our destination. I slowed the car so that Victoria could tuck and roll, made a victory lap around the parking lot, then swung back around and rewarded her timeliness with a full stop. She jumped into the car, beaming and flailing her XL paddle around, so proud of herself for sticking it to the man (the mini-version of her paddle was apparently $50 when bought through zeta, but V's XL version was $7 from Michael's. Lisa would be SO proud.). She wasn't even phased when I inquired about how exactly she was going to decorate it, since I so astutely noted that she hadn't purchased any letters or crowns or the like.. Not a problem, apparently. Whatevs. We didn't quite beat Hollis back to her apartment.. oops. I blame zeta.

We dropped little V off at class and then headed over to Pi Kapp to pick up our bitches. Us + dates + one dipshit pledge = cruel and unusual punishment for a six-hour ride up to bumblefuck, NC. ESPECIALLY hungover on the way back, but we'll get to that later. So Friday afternoon we got on the road and as soon as I got the okay I busted out one of my trusty PBR's. The princess needed to stop frequently from that point on.. oops. The Peebers made the ride endlessly more enjoyable, and before I knew it we had arrived. Lie. The final 20 minutes of the drive were HELLACIOUS. Szalez thought it'd be really cool to drive double the speed limit along the windy mountain roads in the pitch black with no road lights. SUPER FUN. Douchebag.

We dumped our bags in our cabin then made our way up to the designated party cabin for the weekend. I sipped on my wine because I'm a woman of class, then danced my ass off because you can only be a woman of class for so many minutes in one night. It was a bangin time. I made lots of new friends and maintained a perfectly acceptable level of drunkenness. Night one = great success.

Day two... success evades me. There is a strict Saturday itinerary on mountain weekend, which consists of waking up, binge drinking, the brothers/pledges football game at noon, followed promptly by more binge drinking. Breakfast was easily the best meal of the entire trip. The six of us consumed THREE POUNDS of bacon. ew. We paired our bacon with eggs and toast and mimosas and bloody marys. Mmmm. By the football game, we had transitioned to beer and margarita buckets (traditionally consumed out of a coffee pot with a straw). Then I took a power nap and rallied with the remains of my wine. Then bourbon and ginger. Then vodka and half of a gallon of cran-grape light. Then Gaines's moonshine paired with whoever else's drinks I stole and mixed with Gaines's moonshine. Needless to say, night two was wildly unsuccessful. We needn't speak of such low points in my drinking career. I can now tell you from firsthand experience what it feels like to wake up looking at a gun. I was assured that its name was "security," but safety and security and the like were not thoughts that crossed my mind.

Sunday was the biggest struggle of all. I spent the entire day in the car hating life. Our pledge was a chain smoker, so that was awesome. Also, he's a giant bitch who has terrible taste in music and has the audacity to say that everyone else in the car has shit taste in music. Oh and he repels women. Way to go, Pi Kapp. Way. To. Go.

Sunday night me and Victoria hit up Jim N Nicks for dinner, where I was attacked by a bottle of barbecue sauce. Appropriate that I left with battle wounds after attacking my bbq pork sandwich and mac the cheese. Lucky for me, Victoria ran into some basketball players she knows on the walk back to her dorm so I got to show off my awesome tye dye job. I'm slightly pissed that I didn't get my froyo on, but it was high time for me to hit the road to make it back to the classic city. Traveling always makes me appreciate Athens so much more. I love you, Athens. So much.

Today I started my new job. CHADIOSSSS slave labor-- HELLOOOO baby seat in the back of my jeep! Woop woop! I also started my volunteering position tutoring Spanish-speaking kids through the local library system. Today I tutored this little boy who was cute as anything, but had a baddd case of the crazies. Homeboy broke three pencils in the span of thirty minutes, then we switched to reading books. Sometimes I'd read to him--in Spanish and in English, and then he followed my lead and read me some books--in an incomprehensible melange of Spanish, English, and pig latin. Greatest rendition of Goodnight Moon that I've ever heard.

And on a final note: MTV: JERSEY SHORE: a dream come true.

peace love and mountains