Friday, October 30, 2009

The Leaf Turner

So, when I pitched my idea of “going on a hike” in my tutorial and received a less than even remotely interested response, I packed away my mind map and had a little think. What haven’t I done? I haven’t become a millionaire (yet), I haven’t eaten human flesh (not going to try that one), I haven’t lost any more DP’s recently (probably a good thing).

The list went on and nothing quite sparked my imagination until a friend suggested I spend the last night before swot week going back to my old ways *insert daunting music here*. Now, for the sake of clarification I am in fact a g08. I came to Rhodes University last year, bright eyed and relatively sober. I returned this year blurry eyed and rather pickled. After many a drunken trawl up and down New Street, stern looks from lecturers and pitying looks from locals; I thought it was time to turn a new leaf.

Since the beginning of third term I have not put a drink to my lips, not set a foot in a club/pub or bar and most importantly I have clear, vivid memories of the past two terms! Okay, so that was a slight over exaggeration, I have in fact done the trawl once or twice, but with a mere R2 to my name, so yes – not a sip of alcohol but rather a glass of water which I claimed was “vodka and sprite”.

Thinking that as a seasoned Rhodent my alcohol tolerance would have simply lain dormant over the past six months; I put on my dancing shoes, drinking hat and my game face. The night began with crackling pre-drinks, a stumble to friars and suddenly I found my heart palpitating gloriously along to some crappy Lady Gaga song and I felt… well… at home. As the night went on I began to wonder; what am I doing? Then proceeded to down my drink, slur “whooo-hooo” and promptly pass out in the corner.

I awoke the next morning wondering why my eyes seemed supernaturally glued together, why my head felt like a woodpecker was having the time of it’s life with my skull and why pray tell, was I wearing my domestic’s apron? As reality dawned; I recalled being taken home (possibly forcibly removed from friars), undressed and redressed in an apron (due to an unfortunate event with projectile vomiting from er, food poisoning), and left prone in a drunken stupor on my couch.

If I could remember the actual night, I'm sure I had a lot of fun. But for now, the leaf has been re-turned and until exams are over I will nurse my aching head and liver. I can feel the disapproving looks from my “maring” peers but being a “marer” is all good until you quit, then unfortunately for all the leaf turners out there – its best to keep that leaf well turned.


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