Will you hold on to my head, if I ever lose it again?

It's Homecoming Weekend here at my college. Basically, this entails a lot of "spirit" activities (most of which I plan to forego because they make me homicidal), which include a pep rally (the only cool thing about this is the bigass bonfire, but I refrained from attending, as it is wet and gross outside, I am sick, and I would be far too tempted to chuck a cheerleader into the flames), a parade at the ASSCRACK of dawn tomorrow (okay, it's at 9, but still... waaaay too early for Saturday morning), a football game tomorrow afternoon (I am indifferent toward watching football, though it is fun to play... I, however, did not participate in the homecoming "powderpuff" football competition due to illness and general lack of motivation), a concert tomorrow night (The Presidents of the United States of America. I'm SO there. "If I had my little way, I'd eat peaches everyday..." -- by the way, that song is NOT about peaches!), and various alumni activities. The newspaper staff is throwing its annual "Fogey Fest" in honor of our newspaper alums, which should actually be kind of fun. But I mostly find this whole homecoming thing a little disturbing. I don't have a problem with the people that come back to their alma mater to reminisce and support it and all that good stuff... it's the 50-year-old frat-guys-that-never-got-over-it that kill me -- and the middle-aged ladies you can tell were "woo"-girls back in the day, who try to relive their youth by drinking with a bunch of their underage "brothers" and "sisters" in the bars and fraternity/sorority houses. I sincerely hope that, when I come back for my 10-year reunion, I will be able to look fondly upon my time here, but that I will have MOVED THE FUCK ON! Jesus tapdancing Christ!

Ahem.

I mean, yay school spirit! Woo!