The last 72 hours have been a little hectic for me. To everyone I promised I'd hang out with, my apologies, but the philosophy studying got the best of me. I seriously bonded with my study group, which consisted of Abby, her floormate Brette, our good friend Taylor, and Christina, who's so dirty she makes me look innocent. Seriously.Through that time, not only did we actually make up for a whole semester's worth of not reading for philosophy (Plan II secret - we don't actually study), but we all bonded at the same time. The first night ended with us telling secrets over virtually free pizza jacked from Mustache Pete's (local pizza place) after hours. The second night began with a four-hour study break to eat at Hula Hut. The test came and went, and from there it was off to celebratory dinner at California Pizza Kitchen, which I haven't had in years and years. It was just as awesome as I remember. If you haven't been, go - there's one in Austin and one in Grapevine. That was followed by an evening of sand volleyball, which was a blast considering I haven't played since the end of last summer. By the end of all this, I was considerably closer to all of my new study buddies, and it gave me a new friendly look to group studying, because I usually stick to studying solo. But after volleyball, came my descent into Hell - or Hickville, depending on your view of country music. It was time for us to go out on Saturday night. Instead of heading to 6th, like normal people who just finished all their finals, we decided to hit up Midnight Rodeo. We all went expecting what Midnight Rodeo's known for - a weird combination of hip-hop club music and country line-dancin' junk that strangely attracts college students on the worst possible nights of the week. And that's my proof that Midnight Rodeo alone is the antichrist, because to combine hip-hop, with country, just has to be heresy. But so far, so good. I can do the hip-hop thing and be a wallflower for the country stuff. No problem. Sure enough, once we turn up, we were a smidge wrong about Saturday nights. It was live band night. I was miserable, unhappy and not wanting to have wasted my $10 to follow my friends in the door. I sent out a mass-text to anyone in Austin who had a car in the hopes that someone would have the kindness to come rescue me and get me the hell out of there. Who else but Syed would have answered the call? He showed up a mere 25 minutes later and absolutely refused to let me take him out to eat afterward. The man is just as much a true friend as when we met 6 long school years ago. Respect, Syed, respect.
To my study group, sorry to ditch you guys, but I had a blast the last 3 days and I can't wait to keep trying new things with you dudes, so long as it involves more fun and sun and less cowboy hats.
And to Midnight Rodeo: I surrender. You won't see me ever again. I don't care how uncool it sounds. Fuck country music.
To my study group, sorry to ditch you guys, but I had a blast the last 3 days and I can't wait to keep trying new things with you dudes, so long as it involves more fun and sun and less cowboy hats.
And to Midnight Rodeo: I surrender. You won't see me ever again. I don't care how uncool it sounds. Fuck country music.