Hovel2Home2Hangover

Oy.

I was walking across campus this morning and thinking to myself that I love the collective hangover experience. There is nothing quite like it. I can't believe I'm romanticizing the hangover, but it's true! Some of the most hilarious times come from when you and your friends are all sort of just trying to process the previous evening... at brunch, on gchat, on vacation... there's a certain tingle to it, which may not make sense to you but it does to me. And there's this sort of tiny glory that comes from knowing exactly how another person feels, physically, in that moment, and knowing that all that stems from a collection of activities you all participated in the night before. It's a very alive moment.

Anyway, this is all sort of just a rambling thought inspired by, obviously the collective hangover. Last night was Hovel2Home, a purportedly small celebration of the fact that Zoe has a home (if not yet any furniture or dishes). The expectation was for it to be a few girls sitting around sipping wine and, I don't know, celebrating. But there were only two bottles of wine, and on a trip out for more we stumbled (not literally, at least not yet) into the Lone Palm, a spot which I realized is almost exactly between my house and Zoe's, and that is either a very good thing or a very bad thing. Last night, it was ground zero.

Not to say that anything so very bad happened. Nothing really out of the ordinary -- which is really just an indication of the fact that the people I know have boundless energy and a lot of enthusiasm for each other, which leads frequently to enthusiasm for booze. Who knew!? Anyway, it was a good night. Much bonding ensued. And then my friend Sarah, who unfortunately lives in Russian Hill, crashed at my house. The best moment of the morning, therefore, was when, readying myself for a late shuttle, and while I was sipping the water I had so thoughtfully put next to my bed the night before, I heard Sarah in the hallway drop a HandiSnack cracker that she'd found in Dan's room on the ground and say "10 second rule." These moments can't be made up or repeated. I'm telling you, the collective hangover is a glorious, glorious thing.

Thus, a day in the life. I promise my parents and parental/stable readers that I really do attempt to take care of my health more often than this blog or my gchat statuses would indicate.

UPDATE: Realized that Zoe had coined the perfect, the only acceptable, title for this post and changed it.