Mifflin

The bitterness of missing my last two Mifflins was much too strong for me not to go all out for this year’s festivities.   Two years ago I missed it for my EX-boyfriend’s stupid formal and last year I missed it because I was cruising the Mediterranean with my family (Which, understandably, I’m much less bitter about).  This year we had at least seven guests staying in our tiny apartment the entire weekend.  There were bodies sprawled on every empty space of floor.

Saturday morning, the day of Mifflin, I annoyingly woke everyone up at the bright hour of eight a.m. to begin the celebrations.  Lauren cooked everyone pancakes, hash browns, and potatoes and then we were ready to rage.  We started with dizzy battying in my front “yard”, which is really just a tiny patch of grass next to a busy road.  I don’t know if you’ve ever dizzy batted, but it entails pouring a full beer into a plastic bat, kneeling on the ground, chugging the beer from the bat while someone counts how long and takes you, and then you have to spin in a circle with the bat against your head the number of seconds it took to drink the beer.  Sounds stupid, I know, but it never gets old watching people stumble and dizzily fall to the ground.

After a few more dizzy bats and head-banging in my apartment, we decided to venture over to Mifflin Street.  We didn’t know what to expect, what with the threats and chaos that has been surrounded the event this year, but UW-Madison followed through with their threats and there were police all over the street.  You would think that they would have something more important to tend to on this day than arresting the stupid college kids for getting too drunk, but apparently they did not.  The street party was not everything that it’s cracked up to be, but students still found ways to drink while avoiding getting arrested. 

The day was a fun and hazy blur of drinking and spending time with old friends, but the end of the night was a bit of a downer.  I got a call from my roommate around 1:30 a.m. while I was at the bars and she was saying that she thinks someone broke into our apartment.  The screen in her room was cut and her laptop, coach purse, and my other friend’s bag with this GPS and keys were all missing.  We called the police and an officer came and had to walk through the aftermath of a day’s worth of drinking in our apartment, but he spoke to my roommate and reported the incident.  The creepy thing is that we think we interrupted whoever was robbing our apartment because nothing in mine or Lauren’s rooms was missing.  I still have to live in this apartment for three more months, but have had nightmares about someone breaking into my apartment again.  I just hope that we will not be unfortunate enough to have the same thing happen again and that all of my roommates remember to lock their windows throughout the summer.

Even though the night ended a bit disastrously, I still view my last Mifflin as a success.  Hopefully someday my little brother will let his big sister come crash on his floor and re-live the Mifflin celebrations one last time.