only freshman

"for the life of me - i cannot remember. what made us think that we were wise and never compromised"

oh the verve. this song has been running through my head all day. why? because i belted it out in a real-life version of rock band into the wee hours last night. why? because i'm an idiot. and a really awesome wingman.

though it doesn't seem like it from my posts, i don't go out very hard most nights. it's rare that i venture out more than one night during the weekend and school nights are reserved for QT with the DVR unless it's a special occasion. somehow though, i find myself still getting into ridiculous late night situations. somehow i manage to push back any thoughts of bedtime at a decent hour and proceed into the murky abyss of karaoke at 5am. and this is how it happens...

i started the evening with a few glasses of wine at dinner with my dad. i met some friends at a classy joint where i sipped on jameson and ginger ale. 2 to be exact. after these drinks, the responsible thing would have been to have a nightcap and then head home.

instead me and my friends decided to continue to quench our thirst at another nearby establishment. this place was rowdy. rowdy enough that i agreed to take a shot. rowdy enough that we closed down the bar. rowdy enough that it seemed like a great idea to join some new friends at their studio at an abandoned milk factory. what i'm leaving out of this story was the purpose of me coming along. i was wingman for the evening. arguably the world's best wingman in the history of all wingmen for what went down.

i tell this story as a warning. kids - don't ever agree to hang out at a studio that some guys rent out by themselves at an old factory in wisconsin. it's guaranteed that they're probably really terrible musicians. it's also a lesson in which band members to hang out with. it's probably also guaranteed that the drummer and the keyboard player won't be the best vocalists. nor the best guitar players.

all this information is great to know in hindsight, but when you end up participating in a 3-hour "jam session" that includes such green day favorites as "basketcase", "boulevard of broken dreams" on repeat, there's a lesson to be learned.

nothing good happens after 2am. especially if it involves musical instruments. and spiked egg nog.

"my shadow's the only thing that walks beside me..." my shadow is feeling pretty rough today. pretty rough indeed.