And now...here she is! The long-awaited Wake Weekend entry. In all her glory. Problem is, now a full week has passed, and my 27-year old mind just doesn't hold detail like it used to. So I while I hope to entertain, I can make no promises. So with that caveat, where do we begin?
I flew into the shitty old Greensboro airport with Freds and Veeve via Texas; it's just as shitty and old as I'd remembered. Roo picked us up in her rental, which was of course a PT Cruiser, b/c all good weekends must involve a PTC hearse-mobile. We were delivered to the lap of luxury, our Embassy Suites palace, my my has Winston-Salem, or "The Dash" as I hear the young kids are calling it these days, changed. No longer a mecca of Girls, Girls, Girls, cigarettes, and scary townies, it's now home to sheik restaurants and fun little bars. Of course this has all happened since I left, but is that really a surprise to anyone?
Anyway, we had 5 in our room and only 3 keys and no way of getting more, so not everyone got a key. Naturally, being the 'Teen, I was not entrusted w/ a key. It's funny, I feel I've grown up into such a big girl, but when I'm back with you people, I'm still like your kid. Your weird little kid. Frou gave me a book for my bday upon our arrival. Her accompanying words: "Teen, this book is really, really weird. But I need someone to discuss it with. And, you're pretty weird, so I figured you might like it." Thanks Frou: may I remind you, you are are 27 and you devoted the last two weeks to paint-penning plastic cups AND plastic shot glasses in honor of this weekend. Now, some might call THAT weird. Ok?
The first arrival event, speaking of those paint-penned cups, was reception of the "gift bags," the "surprise" that has been kept from me for over 3 months. Frou and Freds made each suite a bag filled w/ individual paint-penned cup. The contents? Customized picture collages, and candy. And Advil, Pepto, and Alka-Selzer Morning After. Oh, and of course, lube and condoms. You know, the essentials.
The first visitor to our suite is 3 months old and bald.
Baby James, dubbed "little Leroy" by his mommy. I might insert here that "Leroy" is the name of daddy's drunk alter-ego. My opinion on this topic is as of now uninformed. Check back. I need some time on this. ANyway, baby James is nearly as big as Moe, but just as beautiful. I like to see that despite the fact that she's had a baby, Moe has not changed in the least. She is possibly the only mother that, when her baby spits up (that is puke, mind you) on your shoulder, she says, "Oh look! He's decorating your shoulder." Yes, decorating...right. She also is still fond of taking pictures of everyone's cleave when we're out drinking. Oh, the stories I'll have for my little James when he grows up :) Just kidding, I'll make you out as a saint...
Friday night was spent at the Filling Station, which I have to be honest, brought back many memories of The Shoe, as I ate countless filets w/ blue-cheese butter on dates at that classy little joint. The food was not as delish as I had remember, but they still make a great stiff drink.
Drinks out afterward were interesting. I want to thank Rainer and Nikkie for including me on their very exclusive "list" of people they actually had an interest in seeing. I still relish being called Slammerkin. Thank you, no really, seriously. So let's see. I guess most of Wake Forest has gotten married...to other WakeForesters. It's seriously incestuous. On a gross level. Of course...then again...our friends are also big on inter-marriage, so what are you going to do. I saw plenty of old faces, but naturally was on the look-out for classmates that I might like to smooch. J and I decided that one old KA (who shall remain nameless, but I will say that a picture involving him got me into a slight bit o' trouble on Pledge Night way back when), would be fitting. The next night he was seen w/ two skanky blond townies on his arm. I guess we made prudent decisions going hook-upless for the weekend. Oh btw, not of all us did go hook-upless...but I'll keep the involved parties on the DL b/c I'm nice like that.
As Friday night drew to a close, I started to whine to Freds, the weekend nazi, about having to wake up on Sat morning to collect the bagels and mimosas, the job that I stupidly volunteered for like 2 months ago. I was promptly put in my place and basically told that my lazy ass better get the job done. So on Sat morn, I dragged J and Frou w/ me to the old Harris Teeter and Chesapeake. Chesapeake is now some dumb generic name, but it's the same stuff. At the Harry T, ran into Dix and P. Of course, I was unshowered in my sweats...and they were fully dressed for Tailgate. We're the messes, aren't we? I had to drive a minivan for the run, Rik and Rach's rental, which was hellish. I believe remarking on how puke-y minivants are, at which point a passenger informed me that I shouldn't mention the word puke again as she might puke in the vehicle. Anyway, I repeat, I will NEVER own one of those things.
Anyway, fast-forwarding, tailgating: still the same. We still dress up for football games.
I love the South. I mean, how QB is it to wear Lily Pulizter (look alikes) to sit in the scorching 90 degree weather guzzling Miller Light and watching college football???? I suppose it's just one of the things that makes Wake Wake. At half-time, everyone still leaves anyway to hit up Freddie B's and drink pitchers. We're just so...spirited.
Sunday was our big old reminiccing day. We kicked off at the Tavern.
The Tavern for me holds such special memories. I will say that the most vivid was the afternoon we hit it up post-Breakfast Club and managed to break no less than three glasses before we were essentially booted out the doors. No class, us kids back then, no class. Anyway, everyone from Wake still goes there. At least, everyone I grad'ed with. And Minkus, of course. Their chips are still wicked good and addictive. As for the campus, much has changed. The Pit has a fancy name now and fancy food to accompany that name. Veeve: "You should've seen it! They were cutting fresh pineapple for the salad bar! Fresh! Right there in front of you!" They have wedding cakes on display...what the f? They have a sundries shop. The Mag Quad is not longer the Mag Quad, and North now also has some stupid name. Sig Ep is gone, and the big scary skull and crossbones has been replaced w/ Kappa Sig letters. Colins C 109 is alive and well, I'm happy to report, and we're still the damn same kids; taking pyramid pictures on the Quad in front of the Chapel.
We then nearly missed our flights as we were hell bent on bbq (well, I was) as well as Cookout. You leave a place that you lived for 4 great years, and what do you want most when you go back? Milkshakes and hush puppies from a shitty fast food joint. But, I guess, I have memories of being w/ J and pounding on the glass door begging them to serve us at the drive through at 2:30am, so, perhaps there is more emotional value attached to CO than I'm giving it credit.
Pretty much the whole tripped reeked of emotional value. I'm all done recounting, and if you'll humor me, I'd like to take a few lines to be sappy and pay tribute to my beautiful friends who have been my best support network and entertainment source for nearly 10 years running now. You crazy bitches are helluva good friends and I love you to death. Smooches and hugs to you kids. Thanks for making the cross-country worth every minute.
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