Week III is known for its tendency towards volume, for its creative use of the English language, and for its absolute lack of comportment that makes lesser "weaks" cringe. We are as cohesive as any other "weak," but we have a longevity that surpasses.
We call ourselves "Week III, The One True Week."
We gather every night in the hospitality suite and drink a little and laugh a lot. On Friday night, some of us went to the Cell Block, as dance club two blocks away from the hotel. We danced a bit and drank a few. I officially doubled the number of shots that I've drank in my life. I'm up to four. Total.
Before leaving, two of us opted to have a slice of pizza and to watch the crowd from the third floor. (Let me tell you, after watching the hook-ups, the gyrations, and the preening, I was once again reminded of how glad I was not to be in the chaos of single-hood.)
We ate our pizza (which was rather good) and spent our time analyzing the dancing going on below.. and giving a running commentary of mating habits of the various human beings.
Todd and I were also wondering if we could run fast enough should he drop the "necklace" of neon glow-stix (made from the stix that were in the shots the lot of us downed) on some hapless soul below. It was pretty likely that a game of ring toss would not be appreciated.
It was a good end to a great week.
The e-mails are already flying from computer to computer as we rehash and remember the PFEW 2008's One True Week. We talk about how we really do have trouble articulating it. For that, I offer this public reply...
Dear Fellow Week III'ers:
Actually, gang, we CAN put it all into words... the problem is that it always sounds like a week of debauchery, creative profanity, and behavior which is so far from proper comportment that the Holiday Inn keeps moving us father and father away from the other paying guests.
And yet we keep coming back (and they keep LETTING us come back) for more... must have been the kool-aid.
I can't stop smiling down here. Even as I was greeted by seventeen binders on my desk, a stack of evaluations, and 30 term papers, I couldn't stop smiling. When I was told that I looked happy and relaxed, I said thank you. When asked where I was for the last week, I said econ camp. Man, does that end a conversation quickly! Gets you funny looks, too.
Econ camp and relaxing are not words that one would put together in the same sentence. Somehow, though, we manage it. To that end, we rock. No wonder we're the One True Week.