November 17, 2003

Dead fucking last. It takes a while for failure to sink in. After 12 hours of sleep I’m still not quite sure what happened at McMaster, but now that I’m a bit more awake I can begin to make some sense of the weekend spent among my beautiful losers.

What I remember most about Friday night are Brian’s neon-green shoes. He said he got them in England at half-price, but I kept wondering why he would wear something so hellishly ugly.

I also remember feeling pretty damn exhausted. Schoolwork and the madness of falling for a girl took a lot out of me, so I never had the chance to prepare any case. I had a bunch of good idea, but no deep research, so I felt both tired and unprepared. I was hoping we didn’t have to present a case on the first night, and of course we ended up scrambling to present one of my cases.

Once the debate ended I got some wine, and after the Laurier gang wandered around Hamilton for a while, we went up to our room to eat, drink, and play cards. Around 2 AM, when some of us were rather plastered, we went on an expedition to find me a toothbrush. We were having so much fun that we even tried to steal Christmas decoration — everything felt great.

I eventually tried to fall asleep, but couldn’t — the sleeping arrangements sucked ass. I slept next to Bernard, and because he’s a large man I awoke every time he decided to bounce around on the bed. He also snored, and at least once he farted in my general direction. I got no sleep, and I was still exhausted when we showed up for our 9 AM debate.

Throughout the day we encountered a lot of strong opposition and we presented a lot of weak cases. My brain refuses to function without sleep, and though I was quite insightful a couple of times, I ultimately failed to sustain any argument.

Our last debate was by far the most amusing because we simply let loose; Brian and I were fierce, offensive, and ridiculously funny.

We all went to dinner on Saturday night, and Shrish used her makeup on me. I never used makeup before, and after I saw the effects of the makeover I think maybe I should use it more often. She highlighted my eyes to make me more savagely sensual, and it worked quite well on my angular face. The feminine highlighted the masculine, giving me that androgynous look I always wanted.

We returned to the hotel, and after a lot of fun talk that made no sense, I slept soundly until late in the morning (Bernard slept on the floor).

Below are some glimpse of the weekend. Without a context they make as little sense as my ramblings.