P-A-R-T-Why? Cause we gotta

Yeah yeah, we’ve all heard it time and time again: Bishop’s University, the infamous party school, the bad rap, ‘those crazy kids are at it again’ spiel. Not so. Most of the more intelligent people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing went to this fine establishment…and some of them even came out with degrees! I kid. Honestly though, if nothing else, this school will train each and every one of its students the delicate art of balance. Save money for textbooks or money for poutine? Finish that essay or catch the end of happy hour? Hmm, these are all things the Bishop’s student finds themselves pondering at some point.

This past weekend my roommates and I did a little pondering of our own; being the lucky ladies that we are, our lofty apartment above the local florist is commonly deemed one of Lennoxville’s nicest places- a real gem. Yup, it boasts beautiful hardwood floors, a dishwasher, a completely remodeled bathroom, and big windows, (oh wow, don’t let me get off track here); the point being, this prime piece of property is more suited to highbrow gatherings of elite Gaiters and close friends over a few bottles of expensive chardon-…sorry, I meant boxes of wine. Regardless, this spot- similar to your parent’s house in high school- is not necessarily the best location for wall-to-wall, music blaring, shoes-in-the-kitchen-type parties. Unlike high school, however, our parents are not here, so despite the concerns for our precious home-away-from-home, we decided to buck up and host a birthday party for a best friend.

What started slowly with 25 girls gossiping over an angel food cake quickly became 80 of our closest friends (and even a few “randoms”) gathered into our quaint, constrained 1200 square feet. Our first mistake: spreading the word prematurely. Yup, this party invite had time to percolate; by Thursday night every faculty, division and residence knew the flowershop girls were hosting a shindig. With coffee tables shoved aside, the dance floor set up shop, and for a few hours of old school rap music and being packed into our place like a can of sardines, a 22nd birthday was celebrated.

As the last of the partygoers gripped their way down the stairs, we tore down the streamers and cut our losses. So it was off to the Lion for the hosts, a great night overall, and we might as well kick our heels up before we spend the entire next day making friends with Mr. Clean.

So party people, just remember, we fourth years may seem to have all the knowledge and fun, but let me offer you this piece of advice from a well-‘balanced’ Bishop’s soon-to-be grad….don’t go out for that post-party poutine, you’ll want to save that change for a mop.

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