Even though Groundhog Day is essentially meaningless in a country like Canada (six more weeks of winter? most definitely), I still like it.
One of the best parties I ever threw was a Groundhog Day party when I was in grad school. I shared a house with Pat Gordon (who was a great roommate and I'm still in touch with him to this day) and a series of third roommates from hell, from the tightwad killjoy to the psycho lazy aerobics instructor/princess to Pat's brother who was so dumb he didn't even realise it and spent all our rent money on shopping channel gadgets.
The party started in usual fashion of grad student parties - cheap beer and wine and stuff, loud tunes on the crappy stereo so that the Jamaican guy next door came over to complain and stayed half the night. Pat even made groundhog balls on toothpicks for snacks. A whole bunch of people slept over and the next day the party left-behinds got into a cut-throat game of Monopoly.
The next day (Monday) we piled into our Chevy Nova and VW Beetle and headed out to school, but the first car got sidetracked by the sun glistening off the ice on the river. We called a halt, came to our senses and all went home for our skates. So no data was analysed that day.
Because after all the skating, we needed to get a little warmth into us, back to the house we stumbled with a bottle of whiskey.
God I miss grad school sometimes.