I went to parties two nights in a row this weekend.

(That hk. Such an animal.)

The first was on Friday night. My school's traditional league rival (and my undergrad alma mater) beat us in a charity basketball game Friday evening, in overtime. No one really cared that much about the game, which was between the students. The highlight was the halftime, half-court game between faculty members at both schools. There's a famous criminal law professor in his 60s here, who talked it up in his classes, apparently, and provided many an amusing moment during the game. He was awful. The rest of our team was awful too, except for my legal writing class professor. So we lost, but considering that Rival School's team wasn't even all faculty members (they had some administrators and fellows in there), I don't think it was all that shameful.

What was shameful was the football game, which Rival Team lost 35-3, but we won't talk about that. (Confused? My allegiances lay with my law school during the law school b-ball game, but with my undergrad college during the football game. They just also happen to be league rivals. No, I don't think it's weird that I divide my loyalties this way. But I do think it sucks that "my" schools lost both games. Or all three, counting the faculty halftime game.)

Party! Yes, so back to that -- I didn't want to go, but my hallmate insisted I at least check it out, so I did. A hall full of drunk 22-year-olds is what I expected to find, and a hall full of drunk 22-year-olds is what was there. I drank a shot of Korean liquor at the "Korea" room of the crawl (or as we called in in college, the "Round the World.") I drank something green at the Irish room. I drank of cup of orange juice and grenadine (the vodka had run out) at some other room. I contemplated glugging out of the bottle of Stolichnaya at the Russian table. I stood with my hallmate and a couple other people, undecided for a few minutes. I remembered that I was 28 and old enough to leave situations I hate by myself. I left.

Headed back to the dorm, which was completely empty due to the popularity of the party, got into pyjamas, and turned on the TV in the common room. Watched a movie about Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn (played by Helena Bonham Carter, who in her early career was definitely on track to becoming "that medieval chick who always ends up getting her head chopped off"). And liked it. And then watched Cheers. And liked that too. In the middle somewhere, met another hallmate's friends from Rival College/my undergrad alma mater and turned down an offer to go to another party. Went to bed at 12:30.

An excellent Friday evening, even with the party.

Last night, I fielded a last minute request from June, in from Providence for the day, to accompany her to a Thanksgiving party. Lots of engineers and people with careers. No legal jokes. Not one strangely colored drink. Real plates. And loads and loads of food. Homemade cider, even.

I almost wept from the joy.

Thanksgiving is such a nice holiday -- no gifts, no costumes, no worries about finding someone to kiss at midnight. Just eating. And watching TV. And sleeping. Every holiday should be Thanksgiving.