Stoned:
3:56 p.m.: Get stoned and watch Willy Wonka while eating birthday cake. Good call or great call? 4:57 p.m.: OMG trippy boat scene. Bugs on the face. Bloody chicken. Eyeball. Fuck, I’m high. 5:13 p.m.: Laugh way too hard at the lickable wallpaper scene. Begin to wonder what snozzberries taste like. Can’t stop wondering what snozzberries taste like. 5:36 p.m.: Movie ends. No more cake. “Maybe we should go to Skimmer now?” 5:41 p.m.: Remember that Skimmer has lots of food… free food. Drool. Trek out to College Green. 5:51 p.m.: Get wristbanded by the class president. He knows. Paranoia. 5:53 p.m.: One word: Qdoba. 5:54 p.m.: Another word: Rita’s. 5:55 p.m.: One last word: Pizza. 6:01 p.m.: Get in line for free shirt. Can’t decide if it’s ugly or not. Decide it’s not. 6:10 p.m.: Dance to the world famous Dave Matthews cover band. Why are they playing “Sweet Caroline”? 6:21 p.m.: Wander to Hill field for a hot air balloon ride. Aw man, the balloons only go up like 30 feet. And only for like one minute. And the line is forever. My friends want to wait it out though, so we do. 6:24 p.m.: Having this line DJed is the most necessary and unnecessary thing I’ve ever seen. Pee myself laughing at DJ Sexybeatz's dance moves. 6:40 p.m.: The line’s almost over. Sexybeatz takes a break from dancing and holding up headphones to ride the hot air balloon. He looks so happy and full of wonder. Obviously, he dances in the basket. 6:42 p.m.: Our turn! Sign our lives away to Class Board 2013. I should really read this contract… so. many. words. Oh well. 6:44 p.m.: Somehow we pack five people into the hot air balloon basket. 6:45 p.m.: I am high, and I am high! Glory. 6:45:30 p.m.: Land safely on the ground. Crawl out of the basket. Can we go again? No, apparently we cannot. Fuck it. Nap time.
Drunk:
4:27 p.m.: Decide a sober Skimmer would much less exciting than a drunk Skimmer. Day–drinking it is. 4:33 p.m.: Open a bottle of “Vampyre” wine. It guarantees to “ignite the nocturnal passions” and claims to be imported directly from Transylvania. The Treaty of Trianon and I have our doubts. 4:59 p.m.: Vampyre wine almost gone. Consider calling my ex–boyfriend for some nocturnal passion. Decide against it. 5:07 p.m.: Try not to look like a drunken fool while stumbling through the labyrinth that is Hamilton Village under construction. Nailed it. 5:11 p.m.: Arrive at Skimmer. Immediately overwhelmed by the vast multitude of line–waiting fun. Get in line for a wristband. 5:18 p.m.: Reach the front of the line. Get told I’m in the wrong line. Get in the right line. 5:24 p.m.: Finally get my wristband. I now have access to wait in any line of my choosing. 5:37 p.m.: Stock up on free stuff: Vita Coco, pizza, T–shirts. Get in line for Chipotle. 5:40 p.m.: Realize I’m actually in line for Qdoba. Cry deeply. Eff this, I’m going on a hot air balloon ride. 5:42 p.m.: Walk over to Hill Field. Pass my ex–boyfriend. Awkward. 5:48 p.m.: Get in line for the hot air balloons. Overhear girls in front of me discussing the results of this week’s Project Runway. Um, hello? Spoilers. 5:55 p.m.: Try to tune out the girls by singing along to the Daft Punk remix streaming out of the speakers. Get weird stares. 6:12 p.m.: Hot air balloon guy asks if there are any single riders. I get to skip the rest of the line. Suck it, monkeys! 6:26 p.m.: Finally make it into the hot air balloon basket. Meet the conductor. Pilot? Captain? I don’t know. He seems chill. 6:28 p.m.: Conductor–pilot–captain does not like it when I suggest we reenact Mufasa’s death from The Lion King. It was just a joke. 6:30 p.m.: Balloon lands. So glad I did not have to wait in the full line for that. 6:35 p.m.: Get some last minute Don Memo. Scarf it down like I’ve never eaten food before. 6:41 p.m.: Leave Skimmer. I drank all that Transylvanian wine and all I got was this lousy T–shirt.
