One beer too many

I'm a little drunk. Not DRUNK drunk, but just a bit tipsy. I know I'll regret it in the morning when I have a meeting with my supervisor.

So I was out with my girlfriends (we'll call them Morticia and Wednesday) planning a trip to the Hell Fire Club for the weekend (of which more after it happens) and we went to Eamonn Doran's (spelling?) for a drink. It's a noisy, dark sort of place and there seemed to be a lot of language students there. Or at any rate, I think I pretty much got hit on in about six different languages. This is not necessarily my favourite type of bar but a lot of people looked like they were having fun and after three pints (hic) I was OK too.

Morticia (Sociology major) and Wednesday (an engineering student so we don't have a lot in common but she's from New Brunswick so we are bonding over East Coast of Canada issues) were laughing at the guys at the next table who were openly LEERING at the girls going by and we were getting all feminist on their asses and then one of them turned around and it was BEPE.

We just looked at each other and exchanged icy nods and got back to our respective friends.

WTF? It's not like I want to be best buddies with him or anything but a little friendliness wouldn't have gone out of place. We're roommates, after all. I'm going to have to talk to him about it in the morning. Maybe I should leave? We were actually getting on OK and I thought we'd found a vibe that worked.

Maybe I'm just not used to the city. Sniff.

Anyway, there are posters all over the place advertising a "Gay Theatre Festival". I relayed this information to my sister who repeated it to her husband who said (sic) "Gay Theatre Festival? Is there any other kind?"

What a moron. And to think he's coming to visit. Ass.

Here's a picture of him.

I'm going to bed.