So many great things about this post, I can't even focus on one topic. It was originally intended as an ode to the 'stache. Instead, we'll discuss:
1) Stadium Seating
2) Girls' Choice Dates
3) Guys Who Are Good Sports
4) Pudding Facial Hair
5) Disco Skating
6) How my life makes everyone else uncomfortable
I'm going to separate the post into two parts so that none of us becomes weary.
Basically, this is a condensed summary of my freshman year in college.
Ready go:
Friends, meet stadium seating. You all need to look closely and etch this picture into your mind for future use. The concept is incredible.
Step One: Bring projector over to a guys' apartment to shine onto a blank wall or shaded window. This way you attract more males and don't have to deal with cleanup. (Don't feel guilty - you'll make up for it by feeding them and doing their dishes all year long. Turns out all those funny woman jokes you heard in high school are actually true. And I'm not even a housewife yet.)
Step Two: Arrange room for maximum seating capacity. This will include mattresses on the floor, couches on ground, couches on chairs, and couches on tables. It may become necessary to raid neighboring apartments when the occupants are gone and steal their furniture. Oh, and the fridge works too if you really want a hoppin party. Make sure the fire-code police don't catch you; this arrangement may or may not be but probably is not safe or legal. The campus cops may come threaten to put you in their police-beat. On second thought, make sure you're caught. We all secretly yearn for that rebellious moment of fame.
Step Three: Comedy (such as Cloudy with a Chance) for a good ab workout, Sci-Fi Thriller (Inception) for good cuddle-ocity, or YouTube party (Hamish and Andy; SBemails; Julian; BalloonShop) for good quotability and knowing chuckles. Save all that chick-flicky nonsense for girls' night on your kitchen floor with a pint of ice cream and enough estrogen to drive away any and all nearby males who might foolishly think they want to join.
Step Four: When some dude complains insistently about how he's about to go knock doors in the girls' building if he must to find a cuddle buddy, offer to fill the position and go hop atop a fridge. After making everyone else in the room uncomfortable, realize that you are also uncomfortable and go boot two unsuspecting citizens off their couch in the front row.
I swear he's not this creepy in real life. He's more of the jolly type.
This picture leads me to the next topic of discussion: Girls' Choice Dates. My first of three this year was with the dude pictured above and in this post. Three seems like an excessive amount of dates to do the asking for. It was. That happens when your bishop mandates Ward Prayer Date Minute.
(haha, man-dates. ha.)
The first time, roommate and I cleverly hid our request in freshly baked bread and invaded the guys' hall meeting dressed as Bread Intruders and struttin to this song. We tried to ride in with Sarah on my shoulders, but when that failed multiple times right outside their window and we looked up to see them all staring at us, we just ran in, ditched the bread, and ran out, heads down (straight-up Napoleon D style).
The date consisted of us making them food (as it is a woman's duty to do?), and then I got sick of the nonsense and initiated a whipped cream war by spraying my date in the face when we were supposed to be playing a friendly get-to-know-you game on our walk back home. Nobody else participated besides us two, but we fought with passion and both returned severely battle-scarred. That was a sticky good-bye hug.
And a standard for many more sticky dates to come.