(actually I finished this book before I started The Jane Austen Book Club, both of which I bought at a charity book shop down the road for about 5 pounds)

Sunday was an interesting day.  I went to Brokeback Mountain in the afternoon, went out to eat, did some homework, and after long discussion decided to go out for a pint with Steve.  It’s important to note that during the walk there, I said, “Hey, guess what we’re not going to do tonight?  Get drunk.”  It’s also important to note that I fully intended on having just one pint, but just when that was finished Mike showed up.  So I had a Fruli (Fruli?  Fruly?  Frullie?  Not sure, actually), and that was fine.  And then I stood up and walked home and it became more or less apparent that, to quote a facebook quote I left for Steve some days ago, “we arew weaklings at this drunknesses.”  We being me, tipsy me, who agreed to stop at the little grocery (I am there three times a day, usually to buy pop, and have had conversations with the owner.  We’re like family now) and buy some more alcohol to drink in the flat.

Sunday, you may recall, was the Superbowl.  It was on here too, beginning at about midnight.  It was somewhere 2 when I wandered into the living room, which was jam-packed with my flatmates, and heard “Rachel, shimmy for us!”  Who said it?  Why?  These details are not important mainly because I do not remember.  More importantly, did I really shimmy in front of a room full of people?  As remembered with a groan the next morning…oh, shimmy I did.

Perhaps that is why I spent all day yesterday out of the flat and away from any of those who may have seen my, erm, mad skillz at 2 a.m.  It didn’t help, as when I went to bed last night Erin came in and said, “Hey Rach, the boys were talking about your shimmy tonight.  I think they liked it.”

I died.

Then this morning, Keely and Kristin:  “The boys said they had never seen that side of you before, and we said, ‘that’s just Rachel.'”  Being dead, I cannot respond.  If I were alive, I’d probably be a combination of “highly embarassed” and “strangely proud of my boob-shaking abilities.”


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