(no subject)
Ugh, I just had the worst night. Nick went to San Francisco on a business trip a few days ago so I went to a party at our friends' apartment alone. There was a bartender wearing some strong strait-boy cologne, and not a scrap more. He made particularly rancid drinks and I think he put poison in mine because the night stopped being fun really quickly. I tried going home to salvage what was left of my dignity after passing out in the coats, but I got violently sick all over a corner of the subway station and didn't know what to do so I ran back to the apartment, had some more good times in a plastic bag and passed out on an inflatable mattress. Luckily I don't have a hang over today because I have a staggering amount of homework to do. It's so tacky to get sick at parties, and no amount of appologizing will get a stain out of a couch.