WESTSIDE STORY
I might be losing my crazy coffee job. Hopefully the guy buying it will keep it a bean bordello and keep me on (Cody too, why not...but the girls, especially that new Amanda girl, can eat one).
Panoramadness.
Wasn't Halloween a barrel of laughs?
I still have my dumb black hair (though I concede that my roots emerging pushes it into the semi-brown). I think I'll cut it soon.
I met with Damien and Elwood yesterday at RMR to discuss working on designing some things for the Skate Army. We talked turkey and decided on a modest wage per hour. I think we agreed on some gear thrown into the mix too. Perks, dude, perks.
A failed attempt at hitting wintery Norris was followed by a bad sweater party ( white, white, white ). I had attained a gem a few months back for such an occasion. The only person I know for a fact that was psyched was Nick dubbs. It was really hard to pinpoint his alcohol content, but was to the point of shouting "Food Fight!" standing next to the neglected, big birthday cake on the table.
This was following one of the worst first impressions I've been present for. I can't be sure what all was said, but an intentional mistake of the host's name, set off a multitude of bad blood aimed at the always good natured Nick W. I think, without knowing 'he was in the wrong', he kept up his normal good nature, only to be cut down by "Lyle's" entourage (he was scolded for the aforementioned suggestion of a food fight by a blonde friend of 'Lyle'). I'm sure that I've been in a similar situation, or perhaps I can just mentally project myself into one, but either way I sympathized with him.
There really were ups and downs at this social function; the bad mainly being what Nick was going through, and the good being pretty much everything else. I was equipped with three Rainiers and my beautiful attire (which I supplemented with a tie-dye I got from JBoy some time ago). Because of work early in the morning, I took necessary measures before the party and planned on drinking the beers I had on me. I ended up having one beer and giving the other two to Nick and Race, who were both too timid to approach the barrel chested beauty that was the keg.
In retrospect, it was probably good that they were hesitant, for any further action taken by anyone in our group could only reflect poorly on our clique.
Around 12:30, the residents said that we all (the whole party, not the kreamers exclusively) had to go. However, it couldn't be plainer that they were glad to see Nick and his dumb, singing, white friends retreating out to the cold, where we couldn't bum them out.
The drive home, which was snowy and bright form the street lights and really pretty awesome, was filled with discussion of what had just happened and trying to figure just why it had happened. Dropped off the troops and got home in time to get some REM.
Panoramadness.
Wasn't Halloween a barrel of laughs?
I still have my dumb black hair (though I concede that my roots emerging pushes it into the semi-brown). I think I'll cut it soon.
I met with Damien and Elwood yesterday at RMR to discuss working on designing some things for the Skate Army. We talked turkey and decided on a modest wage per hour. I think we agreed on some gear thrown into the mix too. Perks, dude, perks.
A failed attempt at hitting wintery Norris was followed by a bad sweater party ( white, white, white ). I had attained a gem a few months back for such an occasion. The only person I know for a fact that was psyched was Nick dubbs. It was really hard to pinpoint his alcohol content, but was to the point of shouting "Food Fight!" standing next to the neglected, big birthday cake on the table.
This was following one of the worst first impressions I've been present for. I can't be sure what all was said, but an intentional mistake of the host's name, set off a multitude of bad blood aimed at the always good natured Nick W. I think, without knowing 'he was in the wrong', he kept up his normal good nature, only to be cut down by "Lyle's" entourage (he was scolded for the aforementioned suggestion of a food fight by a blonde friend of 'Lyle'). I'm sure that I've been in a similar situation, or perhaps I can just mentally project myself into one, but either way I sympathized with him.
There really were ups and downs at this social function; the bad mainly being what Nick was going through, and the good being pretty much everything else. I was equipped with three Rainiers and my beautiful attire (which I supplemented with a tie-dye I got from JBoy some time ago). Because of work early in the morning, I took necessary measures before the party and planned on drinking the beers I had on me. I ended up having one beer and giving the other two to Nick and Race, who were both too timid to approach the barrel chested beauty that was the keg.
In retrospect, it was probably good that they were hesitant, for any further action taken by anyone in our group could only reflect poorly on our clique.
Around 12:30, the residents said that we all (the whole party, not the kreamers exclusively) had to go. However, it couldn't be plainer that they were glad to see Nick and his dumb, singing, white friends retreating out to the cold, where we couldn't bum them out.
The drive home, which was snowy and bright form the street lights and really pretty awesome, was filled with discussion of what had just happened and trying to figure just why it had happened. Dropped off the troops and got home in time to get some REM.