Partyhard

The big party at Reed is Renn Fayre in the middle of May. I will write about this in due course, once the flashbacks cohere into something more decorous and family-friendly. In the meantime, here are some of the pre-RF2K11 parties I crashed.

Oh, ok, nothing was as rock and roll as I'm trying to make it sound. I use the word 'party' fairly generously. One of these 'parties', for example, involves the construction of an eight-tier cake. Probably the most rock and roll thing the idiot has ever experienced, but certainly not on my scale. There has been a bit of a role reversal since I started this blog: I used to be the conservative one in the relationship, but now I reckon she assumes the scolding position more often than I do. Verily, America has changed me.

YE-YE!: The French House event not long after Spring Break. Reed ostensibly has no alcohol on campus, so in order to hold one of the official parties you need to work in partnership with the alcohol society, who are the only group who can legally provide drinks for those over 21. 'Beer Nation', however, decide they can't be arsed with Yé-Yé, and so Yé-Yé are prohibited from giving us any of the customary social lubricants we have come to rely on. Instead, they set up a luscious table of virgin cocktails and, in a cunning move, list the mixer ingredients along with (in brackets) the liquor they would usually accommodate. BYOB, in other words. But hush hush BYOB.
Next to the virgin cocktails, there is an array of French cheese, grapes, cured meat, aaaaand waffles (?). The idiot is shortlisted in the New Wave caption contest and wins a $5 voucher at the waffle window (I hazard that someone in the French House has a particular predilection for the waffle). After a slow start, everyone ends up throwing sweaty moves to drum and bass. Not in keeping with the theme, but it does the job.

COCKTAIL PARTY: The idiot is fortunate to be friends with those in the French House who, after the sobriety of Yé-Yé, possess a superfluity of grenadine, orange juice, cranberry juice ... but no liquor. We establish a liquor fund for the following weekend. For $5 each, a staggering and quite horrid amount of alcohol is purchased from the store on Woodstock. They begin the evening in a civilised manner - supporting musical friend Charlie who plays the famous violin theme in a Reed production of The Glass Menagerie. The party which follows, however, has absolutely nothing to do with me. I leave by 11pm in general disgust at the idiot's behaviour, not to mention the dancing. She returns to the room at 4 in the morning. I think I hear her mutter, "Shit, Consette, I've lost a sock."

THE EASTER PROJECT: Easter Sunday, and Aurore has visions of cake. It takes until midnight to complete, but the final outcome is something rather special.

ROYAL WEDDING: The four English girls (idiot, Holly, Vicky and Rachel), plus some anti-monarchists, plus some anglophiles, and live CNN coverage of Wills and Kate tying the knot (11am GMT/3am PST). The idiot is fairly moved and senses the first tiny smidgen of homesickness, but would never admit it. Goes to bed before the kiss, claiming exhaustion and an early class in the morning. Pah. Something in your eye?

STOP MAKING SENSE: On the Saturday before Renn Fayre weekend, the SU is transformed into a den of iniquity - and Talking Heads, on repeat. For 4 hours.

Consette x