B2B 2013 [NSFW]

I’m in the final quarter of my senior year, so I’ve committed myself to the ambitious endeavor of going out as much as possible, which any self-respecting college senior should be able relate to. Like the honorable knights of the middle ages, I have set out on an important quest, not to find the Holy Grail (well, unless it can be found within a plastic handle of Popov) but to make the most of my last few weeks at Davis. And what better way to enjoy the last bit of college than through an over consumption of cheap booze and a complete disregard for the human drive to sleep? Not to butcher a cliché, but YOLO.

Last week I began my generous and very loose definition of a “weekend” on Wednesday, with my personal favorite Davis bar event, “Funk Night” at G Street. Thursday, I went to the Wolfgang Gartner concert at Freeborn Hall, then spent my Friday afternoon at a senior bar crawl that consisted of ten bars and ended at Tres Hermanas and, because I felt that $12 handles hadn’t already sucker punched my liver enough, I decided to spend my Saturday tapping into my athleticism (and two kegs…) with a game of sloshball, proceeded by a drunken trip to a horse show, and finally concluded the day with a house party on Elmwood.

So when my “Circle of Life” Lion King alarm (don’t judge, it’s very inspiring to wake up to the tunes of Pride Rock) went off at 5:15 am on Sunday morning, prompting me to get up and engage in my fifth straight day of festivities, my body pretty much hated me. But the allure of Bay to Breakers was too hard to resist.

With about three hours of sleep under my belt, I stumbled out of my room, bleary-eyed and unsure whether I was hungover or still drunk, to get dressed in the most ridiculous outfit possible and head to San Francisco with my equally ambitious group of friends.

SPOILER: I was still drunk.

So… what is Bay to Breakers?

According to Wikipedia, AKA the most reliable source of news ever besides Perez Hilton and “The Daily Show”, Bay to Breakers is an annual footrace, which takes place in San Francisco, California and lasts 12 kilometers that was started as a way to lift morale after the devastating 1906 earthquake.

So, why the hell would I, a crazed senior attempting to party as hard as possible and embrace as many unhealthy lifestyle choices as possible, wake up at 5:15 to go to a race in SF?

Because no one goes to Bay to Breakers for the race. Luckily for us Aggies, we are only about an hour and a half from one of the world’s craziest cities, and SF doesn’t do anything normal. This city looks for any excuse to go crazy, even when it’s an event as innocent as a Sunday morning 12K.

In honor of the race, everyone dresses up in weird-ass costumes and walks around the city, drunkenly partying all day.

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Well, technically not everyone “dresses” up

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Hordes of people drink heavily in the parks, without much police interference; a pleasant break after the heavy-handed police force on picnic day

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And we all enjoyed a sunny day, mingling with the young and the old, friends and rando strangers, and people from all over the world

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(literally didn’t know that guy, but became insta-besties)

And then finally succumbed to this thing called “sleep” that people are supposed to do every now and then.

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Casually drinking some “clear Gatorade” and pairing it with juice in the panhandle

My day in SF celebrating Bay to Breakers with some ridiculous costumes, naked people, and a bunch of fellow crazies put the perfect cherry on top of my five-days-of-partying-keystone-light-filled sundae. Thanks SF, for being as equally determined as I am to find an excuse to party!

Guest blogger: Amy, UC Davis

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