So Halo 2 owns me, having purchased a controlling interest from the Trivia webpage sometime last week. I've been playing too often and too much, but since I don't seem to have much homework (just a whole lot of nagging life-altering projects) I can spare a few hours a day.

This weekend? Yes, Halo 2. But I also went to the L.I. Formal on Friday. There was a pre-party at Meg(h)an and Rachel's, and I got pretty drunk on that and some bad-tasting rum that Alan was so kind as to give me as part of our pre-pre-party preparations.

But I didn't throw up, which makes this the best L.I. Formal ever. I ran into the roommate of the girl whose hair I accidentally befouled on the busride home last year, and said roommate was anxious to hear my side of the story. I'm going to call that closure.

Bringing a flask of rum turned out to be the most genius idea ever, as the bar was gouging us even more than at last year's formal. The average drink cost between $4 and $5. But a coke cost $1.50: I had Celine buy it for me, figuring that my 21+ wristband might arouse suspicion.

Worse than the bar (as long as I'm complaining) was the music. All the songs sounded the same and the D.J. ignored Jubb's friend's repeated requests for a slow song, just one slow song.

Got funky just the same, though I did leave the dance hall now and then to mingle by the bar. Op/Ed from the paper was there with the Managing Editor. He seemed even more rational and analytical when drunk, and spouted some polysyllabic nonsense to explain that paradox. It was endearing and scarily familiar.

Looking around, I noticed that most guys (and almost all the girls) had played it straight this year. Figuring that I might as well put it to good use, I had donned the red checkered suitcoat that was to be part of my Halloween costume and accepted a bowtie from the guy I called Jubb's friend a moment ago, which pushed my outfit across that all-important line between tragic and comedic.

Why Alex had an extra bowtie on him at the pre-party I still don't know. I'm jealous of Meg(h)an and Rachel's room, with its ability to host intimate gatherings. Almost all of our parties have been what we call "Jubb parties," fun but massively attended events. It's mildly ironic that Jubb is usually the first roommate to leave a given Jubb party, so that he can spend some alone-time with the river.

Not that we can't have less than a dozen people over for something. Katy goaded us into watching Benny and Joon here with her and Celine on Saturday night. And do four-person multiplayer games count as a social activity?

If I can be trite for a moment, our small gatherings are more "pizza and beer," their room's are more "wine and cheese." Whatever that means.

OK, just checking in, after all. I'm sure to resurface later this week.