#ecsdontsleep (Neither do Grad Students)

Oi, what a week it’s been. Papers, take home exams, a REAL exam. I am WIPED. I’ve spent more time in the library the past two weeks than I think I did throughout my entire undergraduate career. It feels like the only way I can really focus, surrounded by my fellow strung-out students, fueled by energy drinks, Wawa hoagies, and the threat of a dip in the GPA. But, after giving my hand a cramp writing so furiously fast on my exam last night, I had only one thing on my mind.


Last night was my first night out as a full-blooded Living Social lady. And, though worked a few events so far, I hadn’t actually met most of my coworkers yet. And, at the lovely Trestle Inn , a whiskey-a-go-go bar nestled at the corner of 11th and Callowhill, we convened in our holiday finery to exchange presents, sing carols (Thrift Shop is a carol, right?), drink eggnog (and many, many other bevvies), and make merry.

90% of the tales from the night are the “you had to be there” kinds of stories. But, since the holidays are all about giving, I’ll give a FEW key highlights which made last night (to quote Macklemore) F*cking Awesome.

First of all, it’s incredible to find a group of people who are as supportive of theme parties as myself. You might remember what happened the LAST TIME I went all-out for a theme party (awkward.) Last night, though, my fellow ECs came dressed to impress.

Sexy, can I?

Sexy, can I?  

Christmas Sparkles

Christmas Sparkles

We learned that, when in doubt, the gift of booze is always appreciated.


For ME?! You shouldn’t have!

And, if booze doesn’t work…. might I suggest ballpark franks?

That was my present. You're welcome.

That was my present. You’re welcome.

I’ve never seen anyone get as fired up over a rock paper scissors tournament as my fellow ECs. Then again, I’ve literally never seen anyone else have a rock paper scissors tournament so…. there’s that.

Such intensity.

Such intensity.

And, as we danced the night away, using the sequinned gowns as human disco balls and tossing back tiny Beercakes to keep our blood sugar high, I had a strange feeling come over me.  I’m pretty sure it was the feeling that I belonged.

But it could’ve just been sheer terror at the worst best gift of the night.

This mask will likely haunt your nightmares from now on, sorry.

This mask will likely haunt your nightmares from now on, sorry.

And, by the end of the night (translation: the beginning of the morning as it was well after 2:00 am), I finally understood what everyone meant when they say “ECs Don’t Sleep.”

Luckily, since my exam’s over, I’ve got plenty of time to make up for lost slumber this weekend.  And pray that my dreams don’t involve that horse head mask….

Best White Elephant gift you’ve ever given/received? How about worst?

Last night’s half-eaten advent calendar was pretty bad.

Last year, I ended up with a six pack of fancy, new-to-me beers not available in NC. That was probably number one.



7 thoughts on “#ecsdontsleep (Neither do Grad Students)

  1. Ahh writing hand cramps are the worst. Congrats on your exams though, must feel great to have those off your mind! Your EC party looks so fun and like the perfect way to dance the night away in Christmas-y outfits.

    We always do a less than $5 gift exchange with our stepmom’s family and I always like when I get the lottery scratch cards. It’s like low-key gambling.

  2. Everyone looks like they had a blast.
    I received a bra at a white elephant party. And it was huge. The woman who brought it kept trying to convince me how lucky I was because it was a brand new VSecret undergarment that had been sitting around her house. Eww. And I kept telling her it wouldn’t work for me. I left it at the party!

  3. Beef franks winner has the coolest sequin (Christmas tree?) top on! What’s EC stand for?

    I should get Nicole that cow mask, but it would be a Grinch move since she’s always been really afraid of masks and wigs.

    Um, I might just borrow the idea of a rock-paper-scissor showdown over new years eve….

  4. Pingback: So Two Thousand and Late « Food, Sweat, and Beers

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