So I didn't do as well as I'd have liked, but, as always, I have excuses.
Firstly, and most importantly, we had two very poor adjudications. The thing about debating that separates it from most sports (physical or otherwise) is the fact that the person deciding the outcome needs to be at least as smart as you are. Although I've not been invited to a Mensa conference, I feel the adjudicators that placed me 4th in a seconday-day debate (THB the amount of money in sports is unjustified) and 3rd in the final pre-break debate (THB Thabo Mbeki's presidency was, on the whole, a success) lost me about 4 points. That would be good enough for a quaterfinal bearth.
Secondly, and somewhat more upsettingly, I had a speaking partner that seemed inspired by a mix of Courtney Love and Hunter S. Thompson, though that is being far too nice. Prepping for Monday's debates was difficult to do due to the mingling scent of alcohol, vomit and sweat - and it would be this propensity for over-indulgence that would make me glad I didn't break. Also, particularly upsetting was the fact that she placed higher on individual speaking scores - despite the fact that I had to practically feed her content. Non-Wits adjudicators do place more emphasis on style, which I hope was the tipping point.
So finishing 26th in team rankings and 48th as a speaker is disappointing (although, it must be said, I would have been slaughtered by some of those breaking teams).
But there was another side to this week - I was nominally in charge of the social events planned to keep the out-of-towners happy and drunk. For the most part, I think it was a success. The opening night, high above the Joburg CBD, was not - but mainly due to people not really understanding that "semi-formal" meant that we weren't there to get smashed. 20 floors up is not the place to be misbehaving.
Sunday night was definitely better, because people got to drink and dance to bad music while strangers drunkenly drew on white-shirted youth. I have a "sexy head" apparently.
A trip to the bowling alley and forays into karaoke were successful too, despite the fact that I had to manhandle some guy off the bar four times. Four. And I didn't get to bowl. But there was some cool old school hiphop and I went home early to be at my best for the day's next debates. So much for that.
And, dear god, there was yakka night on Wednesday. Yakka, sole property of Stellenbosch debators, is a vile vodka/lime/sugar/ice monstrosity that saves it's effects for about half an hour after it touches your lips. The problem with this is that people continue to drink while waiting for the settling. When it does happen, we have people throwing up, breaking bottles, girls crying and one girl passing out and having to have her stomach pumped. It was actually a lot of fun. Until someone swung a glass bottle at my head. Even the stomach pumping was enjoyable.
I spent most of Wednesday running around, not seeing Joseph Stiglitz speak and trying to save my job (which was not actually under threat). My speaking partner's, however, was. And she failed. Long story short, she failed to pitch when she had responsibilty and got sent home. Perhaps not breaking and not having to deal with that stress was good for me. It does mean I'll need to find a new speaking partner, but there are bigger problems in this world.
And Thursday, finals day, was awesome despite being hosted at Montecasino, the anus of Johannesburg. People wore suits and dresses, and wearing a suit always make me feel cooler that I am (I should try it on campus) and I had fun because my resposibilities were over and I could relax and politik about speeches and teams and Montecasino. The afterparty was pretty amazing, due to the bar tab that kept me pretty fucked up until the next morning.
I danced to so much bad music this week, but I had fun and made friends and learnt how to not fuck up monumentally, which was the really important life lesson here.
"Don't fuck up"
