alright, fine. i'll tell the story of le weekend meliora

Friday
Penn Station
circa 230PM

I was supposed to get on the chinatown bus (that leaves from Penn Station) I read about online - it was supposed to leave every hour on the half hour, embarking on a 2 and a half hour trip to Philadelphia, where I was going to meet Jenni and some other girls from UR to drive up to Rochester around 530/6. So, I tried getting on the 230 bus, which would get me to Philly with time to spare. I'm wandering around Penn Station looking for the bus stop area and, news to me, Penn Station specializes in trains. So I kept looking and looking and I ask the man who sits in a booth entitled INFORMATION. But did he have ANY information AT ALL? Negatory.
"Miss, Penn Station is a train station."
"I know, but the company said that they leave from Penn Station - so if there would, hypothetically, be a bus somewhere picking people up,where would be the place it would, hypothetically, be?"
"Miss, Amtrack is not a bus."

THANK YOU ASSTARD.

So then I go to the Police area (because I do have a way with NYPD cops, let's be serious) and they direct me to the northwest corner without so much as a hesitation. I go to this corner and I see a whole bunch of busses, but, because I don't know how to "travel in an organized manner" I didn't know the "name" of the bus company that I was going to be taking. High five Tommy. So I call Twinnie and Rachie and they give me both the name of the company and the phone number of their office. Which I promptly call.
"No 230 No 330 Only 430"
"On the schedule online, though, you said that you had buses come every hour"
"No 230 No 330 Only 430"

Again, thank you asstard.

So, I do the only thing that would be proper in a situation like this. I sit cross-legged in the middle of Penn Station and cry.

I call Jenni, who actually answers her phone at work, whispering a whole slew of "I'm so sorrys" as I tell her that I can't go. She tries explaining that I can take the train to NJ and then to CT and then to Philly and make it in time, but at this point, I'm so comfortable wallowing in self-pity on the floor of Penn Station that I just bawl "But I'm too - too - too stoooooooooopid to read a train schedule."

So I call Rachie and bawl in the same fashion where she reminds me "Anna. You're in NYC. There HAS to be a train that goes straight to Rochester." And, as the man in INFORMATION informed me : PENN STATION IS A TRAIN STATION.

So I spend way too much money on a ticket to Rochester and then have massive freak-out number two on the floor of Penn Station about how I am, pretty much, dirt poor and can't afford a 60 dollar train ticket. Call Niki & Sara & Katie Q and they essentially try to talk me through the situation but again, I'm comfortable crying on the floor of Penn Station by this point and therefore am inconsoleable.

I finally get on train and sit next to a fabulous NYS Supreme Court judge, who gives me her card and I mildly offend her by calling her old.
"Oh, studying Torts? I remember taking Torts."
"Oh, way back when??"
[stupid stupid stupid]

After nine hours on a train, I finally make it to Rochester and the hotel where we are staying. We go to the frat quad, the bars and then the frat quad again. Where SOMEONE WHO WILL REMAIN UNMENTIONED [not me, though] made out with a scarecrow and came home circa 7am covered in leaves and mud. The non-scarecrowphilic group went home and ordered delish chinese food and I rolled around in and then proceeded to sleep with Baked Cheetos.

Sara, Niki & I went to the Alumni brunch - which Susan gets THREE SNAPS for bronze/pink/gold napkins, low-acid orange juice AND strawberries. Those were supposed to be mentioned in the fireside - if not, here's your recognition ;-).

Then we met up with Katie Q, Lindsay, Lindy and Corinne at Panera and then a few hours later met up with the rest of the DGs at the Distillery, where we heard all types of drama-ramas and drank beer.

That night, we had DG Alumni Flip Cup Tourney THREE at the very gracious hostesses of Carolyn, Liz & Dom where we may not have actually "played" "flip cup" - but it was still an all-around good time. We left and went to A-Street where Deb made out with a Pole (not a Polish person, who, went the story was retold, I thought was the meaning. AND DIDN'T UNDESTAND why it was so g*damn funny to make out with a Polish person). A whole bunch of us left and hung out at Mex for the rest of the night. There, after many margaritas, Jenni & I decided that our PUBLIC SERVICE TO THE WORLD would be to procreate with one another so as to make super-clones of our skin. Because it is the SOFTEST SKIN YOU WILL EVER TOUCH. (here, Sara & Niki will roll their eyes at me. And that is fine. But it is true). At some point Jenni sucked on my arm and I STILL HAVE A BRUISE and it looks like I made out with a blind man who, literally, didn't know my neck from my elbow.

After Mex, we went to the frat quad, where a whole bunch of DGs were hanging out. Then a STORY WHICH WILL REMAIN UNMENTIONED happened, which, really, will remain unmentioned. I hung out with Joanna for a while who I called Joann the entire night and here is my public apology for being an idiot about that. Kira, Katie Mac, and a bunch of people who I remember and love but won't list because I know I'll miss someone and then it'll be awkward when they call me out on it later (cough. cough. NKR :-*)

Late night stumbled back to our hotel where, as is socially acceptable, I went back to rolling around in Baked Cheetos.

We woke up all hungover face and left for our faraway homes. Sadface. Sara, Niki & Katie Q dropped me off at the Schendectady train station so I could take the train to NYC.

AND THAT WAS THE WEEKEND THAT WAS