Because that's what they are and titles are hard

Name of Party Here

There is a tradition at the College of Santa Fe where one night in the first few weeks of school the senior class drives all the freshman up several thousand feet into the mountains into the woods to a campsite to get as wasted as possible. It was a sort of hazing-esque, welcome-to-college ritual. Santa Fe is already at an elevation of about 7000 feet. The reason this party is in the mountains is to increase the altitude even more (to apprx 9000 I believe) so it is easier and faster to get drunk. I cannot for the life of me remember what this thing was called. It had a foreboding name. Something like "Hell Night" or "Devil's Friday." It took place on the second Friday of school, when freshman orientation was over and the rest of the school had been around for about a week. Word spread for all the freshman to meet in the parking lot outside the dorms at 10pm. In general I am not and have never been that much of a party animal. I was already skeptical at the idea that this thing started at 10. Way past bedtime. But I was determined to participate and make a good impression on my new classmates and to give the illusion that I was somewhat social. Some people I had befriended in my dorm hall and I decided we would pre-game this Hades Hoedown by doing a few shots of some cheap vodka we had. I had two. I'm not a big drinker. They don't sit too well. I don't even get a buzz, just a bad taste and stomach ache.

Not only is it late, but outside it is way colder than I expect. My friend Andrew from the dorms lends me his ridiculous puffy, hooded, fur-lined jacket. I look pretty ridiculous, but it was easier than going back to the room for a jacket of my own. We get to the parking lot where tons of random cars are ready to go, and confused freshman are wandering around bumping into each other, trying to figure out who goes where and with whom. Somehow I also wander confused and end up getting separated from my dorm mates. Yikes! I seriously contemplated bolting to bed, when I saw a guy that I had a class with named O. He seemed nice. We had talked and I knew his name. So I leech to familiarity. "HI WHAT CAR ARE WE GOING IN?" There was probably a literal arm link accompanying that sentence as well but I can't be sure.

O had called shotgun for this one senior's car, and tagged along and wound up getting bitch seat. On my right was a guy who was in the same class I had with Oliver. A few months later for halloween he would shave half his head and face and wear a suit that was black on one side and white on the other. For the rest of the year he would grow out half his head. To my left was a guy named Jess who I didn't really know, but I recognized. He and Oliver knew each other because they were in the same department.

Something I didn't take into account was that in order to drive up a mountain, the roads have to be windy, and this road was incredibly windy. As we were driving back and forth through the dark, all of my past bouts with carsickness are coming back to me. "Oh right, that time...oh and then...that time too....." I don't want to say anything, because come on, carsickness? LAME. I don't want to sound stupid. I ask how much longer we have. The drive is supposed to be about 30 minutes total, and apparently we are close.

I don't know how close "close" is, but I am starting to get very uncomfortable. I take off my borrowed pimp jacket because I am burning. I have a water bottle but I'm afraid to drink any of it, I don't want to trigger any unwanted action. I can tell that my stomach is pissed... we just keep driving back and forth, back and forth. The headlights are skimming quickly across trees and grass. Everywhere I look is nauseating. "Um, hey, um, excuse me," interrupting the Chatty Cathies, "so, I think I'm getting carsick? So, like, if you don't mind, if we could pull over that would be cool probably." The senior driving says he will pull over when he sees a turn-out.

I swear that I see six really great turn-outs that would have been really awesome, but he keeps driving by them. "Um excuse me, it would just be, um, really great if you could, like, pull over...when you have the chance, um, is that ok?" I am so hot, crammed in the bitch seat, and I know that this is an emergency. The two shots from earlier are clawing at my insides. "Yeah sure when I see a place," says Senior.

I am clasping my hands over my mouth at this point, thinking I could somehow reverse the whole situation if I grabbed hold of my own face, but its too late. Vomit shoots out from around my hands, some getting on the guy to the left, some getting on the guy to the right. Inside the car it is chaos. I just can't stop. The guys in back are screaming, "its on me! its on me!" I am using Andrew's jacket he lent me as a bucket in my lap. The Senior doesn't need a turn out in order to pull over at this point. Everyone is flying out of the car. I am able to roll out to the side of the road and just continue heaving into the grass. I am covered in my own puke. I am confused when I am able to catch my breath. Why is it so bright out all of a sudden? I look up and realize that we were the front of a car-train of all our classmates headed up to the mountains. Since we had pulled over about 20 other cars had pulled over as well, and all of their headlights were on me. My shining moment, center stage, covered in puke, holding a puke jacket, with a couple of dudes jumping up and down like they were on hot vomit coals. "Oh no go ahead, keep driving, she just had to puke." The cars all drive by and slowly pass us. I'm like a car accident. Now I get in shotgun in order to prevent more carsickness, and one of the other boys sits in my puke-y seat. I'm so embarrassed.

We get to this Black Friday Bonfire and literally when I step out of the car I am bombarded by my already wasted dorm-mates yelling, "ARE YOU OK?? WE HEARD!!!" How?? How could they hear about me?! Were they in the passing cars? People already know who I am enough to report that it is I on the side of the road soaked in spew? I guess I can't even pass this off as pretending I'm really waste. I search out Andrew in order to apologize profusely about his jacket-turned-bucket, and to explain how I swear to wash it and return it in pre-puke condition. I find him, and he comes over to me, but starts making wild arm movements and bolts off the trail behind a tree. My stench throws him into a puking frenzy. I guess I'll explain the jacket later. And stay away from people.

I go back to the parking lot. I am actually toxic. The last thing I want to do is drink, or cause more people to get sick. I'm like a puking disease, infecting people with nausea wherever I go. I end up getting into a car that is leaving early. I explain that I need the front seat, I absolutely cannot sit in back. I now have no problem voicing my carsickness needs, lame or not. I guess some random stranger will sit in my puke puddle in the other car on the way home. Sorry stranger.

When we get back to campus I puke outside the dorms, and head straight for the showers. I probably spent 10 minutes total at that party. I wouldn't say I made a good impression on my new classmates like I had intended, but hot dog I definitely made an impression.