Walking around last night, past the frat and sorority houses (something very new to me, what's the deal?) the smell of pot hung heavily in the air. If I was ten years younger I would think, ah--a hook up. But, now, at my grand old age of 2_ I think, rather sarcastically, 'someone's studying hard.' Actually, I think I said that out loud.

A few of the academics walking with myself and partner looked wistfully at the house (perhaps thinking the same thing I did? Remembering their youth? Or, new in town and needing a reliable connection?) while the other academics scoffed at the wasteland over yonder (but licked their lips in anticipation of the four glasses of wine to be ordered at our place of destination).

It is very easy to drown in a sea of alcohol at faculty social events. I actually do not drink, contrary to jokes I have made about carrying flasks and falling down drunk.

If this was grade seven, our teachers would be teaching us about peer pressure and how to say no. (Although, from having been around teachers my whole life I would suggest it is the teachers who need to learn to say 'no', not the students.) As it stands right now, despite having been clear that I do not drink, people continue to run up to me (here and other places I have been) and offer every imaginable form of liquid courage. I am sure it is about being social, and making sure that everyone has what they need to enjoy themself, but I wonder if something else is at work here.