just the weekend.
This has been an eventful weekend of not much at all. An old friend from high school was in town from New York, and on Saturday we Went Out, as rare as that is for us. We started the night with a round, but then switched from the bar to a table, and the bartender shoo'ed us out with a round of SoCo and Lime (MMMMM, TASTY). That got us in the shot-taking mood, and after that we kept up with our regular drinks, and just added a few rounds of shots for good measure. And now, allow me to clarify-- when I say shot, I mean doubleshot. After the SoCo and Lime there were also Jameson's, and then capped the night with Jose (ahhh, tequila).
After the bar we went back to our friend's loft for rounds of flips, since he insisted, and passed around funny hats (viking horns! a sunbonnet! the fedora!) before having a bit of a dance party. We finally got home at something like 3:30, and I got to bed at something like 4am. Between the shots at the bar and the shots at the loft, I was pretty well drunk. I didn't feel all that well when I went to bed, but managed to get some rest anyway.
I woke up the next morning with what one might call a raging hangover. And also, not so much morning as mid-afternoon. I got out of bed at like, noon. I sat around with Wes and Sasha, took my prescriptions, and zoned out for a half hour. Wes decided he was making me breakfast and ordered me back to bed, so I sat in bed reading while he made me eggs, bacon, and toast. After eating breakfast and reading a bit more in bed, I curled up and passed out for another hour or two. I basically didn't do ANYTHING all day, zombie fashion. Sasha and Wes went out to meet up with some friends and I stayed in, taking a shower to feel a bit more human. I watched the football games and cursed out LJ when it crashed, and had a nice and quiet night. Except for the part where Wes called to let me know the car had gotten towed. Funtimes.
Got up today, had waffles, called a taxi to go get the car. Wes paid for it because he's a nice boy, so I can't complain TOO much. We also had the best taxi driver ever, so that made up for it. His name was Sullivan (ahhh, Boston) and he turned off the meter at $25 when we were looking for an ATM because he said we'd had a bad enough day. Great guy. Now we're sitting here with Munday and Sasha, and the boys are playing Wii bowling while listening to classical music, Ella Fitzgerald, Dizzy Gillespie, Wu Tang, Lil Wayne, and Death Cab for Cutie. Wes' music collection is, um, eclectic.
I'm probably going to bed soon, since I have to be up at a relatively decent hour tomorrow. I took tomorrow as a personal day with every intention of spending the day on the couch with the television on and a box of tissues and my computer. Y'all will probably end up seeing some liveblogging tomorrow, but that's to be expected. It's history, y'all. I'm not going to miss it. It's a pretty typical night in with the guys, but every now and then (when I get an email from Mags, when I look at my friends page, when I think about tomorrow) I remember what tomorrow is. And that just makes me smile.
After the bar we went back to our friend's loft for rounds of flips, since he insisted, and passed around funny hats (viking horns! a sunbonnet! the fedora!) before having a bit of a dance party. We finally got home at something like 3:30, and I got to bed at something like 4am. Between the shots at the bar and the shots at the loft, I was pretty well drunk. I didn't feel all that well when I went to bed, but managed to get some rest anyway.
I woke up the next morning with what one might call a raging hangover. And also, not so much morning as mid-afternoon. I got out of bed at like, noon. I sat around with Wes and Sasha, took my prescriptions, and zoned out for a half hour. Wes decided he was making me breakfast and ordered me back to bed, so I sat in bed reading while he made me eggs, bacon, and toast. After eating breakfast and reading a bit more in bed, I curled up and passed out for another hour or two. I basically didn't do ANYTHING all day, zombie fashion. Sasha and Wes went out to meet up with some friends and I stayed in, taking a shower to feel a bit more human. I watched the football games and cursed out LJ when it crashed, and had a nice and quiet night. Except for the part where Wes called to let me know the car had gotten towed. Funtimes.
Got up today, had waffles, called a taxi to go get the car. Wes paid for it because he's a nice boy, so I can't complain TOO much. We also had the best taxi driver ever, so that made up for it. His name was Sullivan (ahhh, Boston) and he turned off the meter at $25 when we were looking for an ATM because he said we'd had a bad enough day. Great guy. Now we're sitting here with Munday and Sasha, and the boys are playing Wii bowling while listening to classical music, Ella Fitzgerald, Dizzy Gillespie, Wu Tang, Lil Wayne, and Death Cab for Cutie. Wes' music collection is, um, eclectic.
I'm probably going to bed soon, since I have to be up at a relatively decent hour tomorrow. I took tomorrow as a personal day with every intention of spending the day on the couch with the television on and a box of tissues and my computer. Y'all will probably end up seeing some liveblogging tomorrow, but that's to be expected. It's history, y'all. I'm not going to miss it. It's a pretty typical night in with the guys, but every now and then (when I get an email from Mags, when I look at my friends page, when I think about tomorrow) I remember what tomorrow is. And that just makes me smile.