Party Popping Party Poopers
So i was wondering what the best way of updating this blog was because I didn't want to record every single mundane detail about exchange life and I was running out of lead in commentaries discussing one complex moral philosophical metaphysical issue or another. The natural conclusion that then arose was that I would of course blog whatever the hell I wanted without regard for my viewers. We all know however, that it will be a cold day in hell before that happens because as Zhu will be quick to attest, I am a chronic people pleaser. Where that leaves me, I really have no idea. And don't ask me what the point of all this is either. I'm just writing whatever floats to the top of my head because Jessup training is driving me slowly but surely insane.
American kids generally move out of the family home by the time the enter college. No, I'm not going to embark on a lengthy discourse on the benefits and detriments of this physical separation of the nuclear family nor am I going to began a discussion on cultrual relativism and the conflict between confucian values and western morals in Singaporean society. I am however, going to talk about a very important necessary corollary of such early independence. HOUSE PARTIES!!! hehehe. From what I understand, undergrad house parties are really nothing to rave about, bad beer, bad company and too many wet behind the ears youngsters who probably won't see the inside of a club for another 3 years. A grad student's house party however, is quite another story. Wine. Champagne, killer cocktails, bruschetta, pita breads and pate, greek spiinach puff pastries, fantastic company, interesting life experiences, the works really.
I do wish I had taken more pictures but I was terrified of being the absurdly suakuish touristy one so I restrained my trigger happy impulses and thus ended up with pictures of the food. This is us though, sufficiently inebriated:
We were however, due to budgetary constraints unable to avoid the tackiness of dixie cups. Ah well. can't have your cake and eat it.
Zhu, the guy who is not me is BD. Non asian girl is DG's Other Roommate.
2 weekends ago, we went to Sub Zero, a sushi and vodka bar. It seems almost counter intuitive to eat raw fish when the nearest ocean is 5 hours away by plane but this is what being in a land of perpetual steaks, potatoes and ranch dressing does to it. For the record, you probably guessed right. Raw fish in the middle of america is a bad bad bad idea.
Zhu, non asian girl is DG:
Fortunately, this Sushi Vodka Bar wasn't quite as committed to its theme as it should have been because it also served pizza. Which was good. But I suppose you can't go very wrong with pizza.
So there you have it, my partying ways in St Louis. Nothing extreme, just good clean fun. Really. I promise. REALLY LAH! NOW STOP LOOKING AT ME THAT WAY!
American kids generally move out of the family home by the time the enter college. No, I'm not going to embark on a lengthy discourse on the benefits and detriments of this physical separation of the nuclear family nor am I going to began a discussion on cultrual relativism and the conflict between confucian values and western morals in Singaporean society. I am however, going to talk about a very important necessary corollary of such early independence. HOUSE PARTIES!!! hehehe. From what I understand, undergrad house parties are really nothing to rave about, bad beer, bad company and too many wet behind the ears youngsters who probably won't see the inside of a club for another 3 years. A grad student's house party however, is quite another story. Wine. Champagne, killer cocktails, bruschetta, pita breads and pate, greek spiinach puff pastries, fantastic company, interesting life experiences, the works really.
I do wish I had taken more pictures but I was terrified of being the absurdly suakuish touristy one so I restrained my trigger happy impulses and thus ended up with pictures of the food. This is us though, sufficiently inebriated:
We were however, due to budgetary constraints unable to avoid the tackiness of dixie cups. Ah well. can't have your cake and eat it.
Zhu, the guy who is not me is BD. Non asian girl is DG's Other Roommate.
2 weekends ago, we went to Sub Zero, a sushi and vodka bar. It seems almost counter intuitive to eat raw fish when the nearest ocean is 5 hours away by plane but this is what being in a land of perpetual steaks, potatoes and ranch dressing does to it. For the record, you probably guessed right. Raw fish in the middle of america is a bad bad bad idea.
Zhu, non asian girl is DG:
Fortunately, this Sushi Vodka Bar wasn't quite as committed to its theme as it should have been because it also served pizza. Which was good. But I suppose you can't go very wrong with pizza.
So there you have it, my partying ways in St Louis. Nothing extreme, just good clean fun. Really. I promise. REALLY LAH! NOW STOP LOOKING AT ME THAT WAY!
posted by dundundugi at 10:45 PM
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