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Last night was a blast.

Well all made it to Elk Island sorta safe and sound. We all got there, a hodge podge mix of my friends. I realize that some people tend to be very exclusive with their friends. They don’t like mixing friends from one circle with another. I hate that. I love mixing things up, and anyways, meeting and getting to know new people is always fun.

And mix we did last night. We sat around the campfire in the middle of nowhere Alberta, some of us drunken, some of us baked out of our minds, and some of us just having a simple good time. It didn’t matter who we were, but we got all along and just partied ’till the wee hours of the night.

It was a great way to send things off and to say goodbye to a life that I probably won’t have anymore. The whole being “responsible” schtick with being older means less spontaneity, less “magical” moments of connecting and discovering new people. I’ve got great friends in Ottawa, and I have a ton of fun with them. But the maturity gap makes things more predictable and more conservative. It’s not a bad thing, it’s just a different thing.

That spontaneity of gathering a ton of random people together for boozin’ and chilling by the campfire is something that seems to be just a young immature university kid thing to do. I could be wrong, and I hope I am. But these times are definitely fleeting for me. But I’ve realized that being young is really just a mental state. The only thing that I can’t will is the fact that I have to say goodbye to all my wonderful friends.

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Random events at the booze-out:

• Having a transmission on a car die on you on the highway is scary. Mylore’s car crapped out on the way there and his transmission got stuck in 3rd gear. We parked and camped, but found out he couldn’t get out of 3rd. No reverse and no neutral (so we couldn’t push the car to reverse). We had to lift the car up and push to get it moving. It only took 6 full grown men half an hour to move the bloody thing 5 feet.
• Letting Reg, a fellow comp sci guy who hasn’t smoked pot in years, smoke half of a fat blunt is a terrible thing to do. Poor Reg was so baked that tears were seen rolling down his cheek. Reg being all philosophical with Mylore: “Life man… life…”.
• My crazy buddy Ryan cannot handle a massive 5lb axe.
• We were bitching and complaining about Quebec separatists at one point of the night (not sure how this started). Soon as we did, some random Quebecor drove up all drunken and demanded we sell him cigarettes. Other than the fact that he was completely loaded and didn’t know where he was, and that we were probably the only living souls 30 km’s from that place, he was coherent enough to explain his anger at English Canadians and how he fixed his anger. “We lost the war man… we lost the war and we should accept it.” I found it strange that the French feel this way even after losing the war 250 years ago.
• It’s very easy to sell a six-pack of cheap beer to a drunken Quebecor for $20. Watching him moon one of our friends for being a “French hater” and almost falling into a raging fire because his pants are at his knees is funny and a sure sign of karmic justice.
• My awesome friend Thea has amazing tastes in music. I’m waiting dearly for her mix-CD that she promised she’d send to me in Ottawa. Also, she might be a civil servant and might move to Ottawa. More friends from the West, woot!
• Leo: “Damn I got the pasties, it’s all dry.” Reg: “Dry as a nun’s cunt?”

Good times!

Ryan all badass:

Ryan a few hours later:

Some of the gang, Aaron is passed out in the little green tent so we had to include him somehow:

This entry was posted on Friday, April 27th, 2007 at 8:00 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.