this entry is being written while still intoxicated. the situation is basically that a very drunk wendy has been put to bed in MY bed, therefore i must sleep on her bed tonight. problem? michelle is afraid of heights, therefore i refuse to go up there until im absolutely certain i'm sober. then at least i stand a slightly smaller chance of falling and dying. i don't care if it takes till five am, seriously. our RA, rob, followed us down the hallway because he said it seemed wendy was experiencing a lack of motor skills. he beckoned me out of the room to inquire after her health. despite the serious nature of the moment, i couldnt help but feel ironically amused when he assured me that he knew i was fine. i was like, gee, thank heaven for Dentyne Ice and TJ, the former for ridding myself of Baccardi O smell and the latter for helping me get wendy into campion, even though he himself was slightly drunk. or so he said. maybe he was really drunk, bc i recall something about him joking to wendy about the two of them making out and i was like whoa, she maybe be drunk but im not that drunk, be careful buddy, and he just laughed. or that's just tj. i would really like to sober up now.