(no subject)
Trini vs Arnulfo
so. on Friday, B got off early from work, and since there was absolutely no one left at the institute except me and Steve, i took off too. because i'm responsible like that. instead of taking her sick self home as any sane person would, after she picked me up, being the dutiful, caring and concerned daughter that i am, i persuaded B that perhaps we might stop in at the Westin for a cocktail or two. i went to nursing school, ok. i studied strep throat and remedies. it clearly states in that big huge book they make us buy first year, that strep can be cured by massive amounts of alcohol, good conversation, and the occasional marijuana pipe. how come i don't know how to spell marijuana? how come i don't know how to spell at all?
we got to the Westin about 4.45pm, and since it was only early evening, we had no intention of staying. after all, it's Friday night, the eve of New Year's Eve, and who can imagine staying for hours and hours in one place on purpose. since it was early, Arnulfo was on deck, and i swear he looks just like Trini. in fact, when Trini finally showed his face, i coudln't tell them apart. i hadn't seen Trini in what three months, i forget how handsome he is. short, true, but handsome. and crazy as hell. he has a maniacal laugh that demands reciprocation. very fun to drink with Trini. especially when he makes his unbelievably atomic French martinis.
Do You Know the Way to San Jose... la la la la la la laaaaaaaaa...
as usual, we met some great people. two co-eds who were 30+ but had enough boobage between them to rival Pamela Anderson. so, of course, i was in love with them. boobage = good times. Amber and Christina. Blonde & Brunette. Bombshell and Athletic. Blue eyes & Brown. and both cute! they were on holiday from San Jose and looking for fun, so we four hung out together in drunken abandon, and were fed more drinks than any four chicks should be able to consume. SHOTS! Christina is a bartender. i asked her to deconstruct Trini's French martini, since he refuses to tell me what he puts in it, and she deduced that his secret ingredient is Triple Sec. honestly, i don't know why Triple Sec always knocks me on my ass, but there it is. no wait, it's everclear that knocks me out. nevermind.
after a couple of hours, Mom got picked up by Joe & Lindsay, a couple who weren't really a couple, according to Joe. uh huh. Lindsay was the classic permanent girlfriend. she knows her boyfriend is an asshole, but she loves his dirty drawers, so what can she do. he knows that she's the only chick in the world who will put up with his bullshit. initially they seem to make an odd couple, Lindsay petite, mousy with brown curls and glasses, Joe the tall, red faced loud mouth, but it's obvious that there's a whole lot of history there. "ten years," Lindsay says, and calmly sips more red wine. it's not her first glass, it won't be her last. cute. we happily added them to the party, with Joe telling the most terribly corny jokes this side of creation.
"Eddie Murphy's Delirious & Raw!" he shouts with glee while Lindsay lowers her head to the bar with a groan.
"Oh God," Barb is no more happy than Lindsay when she sees the answering gleam in my eye.
"Funniest shit EVAH," i declare.
"Fuck Chris Rock," says Joe.
so, of course, we were required to run bits. as loudly as possible, hanging off of each others shoulders, holding our stomachs and gasping. haven't lived until you've sung "i got some icecream... and you can't have none" at the top of your lungs in the middle of a hotel bar. hell, fuck Eddie Murphy, i think we got the funny thing sewed up. well. apparently not, because our group abandoned us to our dorkery, and it took us a few minutes to figure out that we were only amusing ourselves. party poopers.
when we rejoined our party, yet another member had been added by the name of Bridge, a marine on leave who was heading back to Tokoyo in the morning. delicious does not describe. what's it about the military that just breeds hotness? the man's arms felt like steel. and they were all corded and ripply and undulating, and mesmerizing, really. stomach an actual washboard. eyes like brown velvet. he was all chocolately goodness. "SHOTS!" he didn't want to do them because he had the early 18 hour flight, but come on. who can say no to me? relentless is not the word. obnoxious might be the word, if you ask Barb, but whatever. so long as i get my way.
Missed Opportunities
more hours pass and we decide that pictures are necessary. the party's breaking up, and Mom and i are supposed to be going to the movies. we settle the tab, i love my bartenders. i swear our tab is never higher than $30. i swear it shouldn't have been less than $100, but who am i to argue. i proposition Trini for the 435439828 time, and he cackles with glee. so in love with Trini. Christina sidles over to me and whispers, "do you guys smoke? why don't you come up to our room?" people in Cali are so generous with the pot. "can you do that in a hotel?" asks me, Lana the Clueless. "suuuuuuuuuuuuure," she says. i'm all for it, but Bridge wants none of it.
"what, are you afraid it's about to turn into a Girls Gone Wild thing?"
"nah, just not my scene. i'm going back to my room. 718."
"but, but, if you leave, i can't molest you anymore!"
"718."
hotness. did i go? of course not. sigh. perhaps therapy will get me over this nutty intimidation thing. really, it's getting ridiculous. perhaps i'm going to just have to make myself do it. face my fears. jump in with both feet. next time it happens, by god, i'm going to do it. ha, now there's a New Year's resolution.
upstairs we go, but not to 718, dammit. the whole group sans Bridge piles into the room and out comes the pipe and pot. poor Joe. i tell you, get a man in a small place with a whole bunch of women and he just falls to pieces. in his defense, Amber was totally rocking her tank top. can't put a rack like that on display and not have a man kick himself for bringing his girlfriend along. after about 20 minutes, i notice that Lindsay has gotten really quiet, in that seething kind of rage that only permanent girlfriends get, and since Amber & Christina were too nice to ask them to leave, i do my normal "control the situation thing" and collect Barb so that we can say our goodbyes. "come back tomorrow!" they tell us.
it's only 10.30, and we don't want to go home, so we decide that we should still go to the movies. except we can't decide which movie theatre to go to, so basically, we just drove around in traffic for a couple of hours, wasting gas, talking, laughing at people, and generally being merry. and of course, the rest is mostly blank. in Santa Monica, we went to Sav On to get tequila for Barb. there was a sobriety checkpoint scare, some poor chick had driven her car into a pole, and was being put through the paces. i think that's when we decided to take our law breaking asses home.
New Year's Eve
Saturday, it rained! finally! the perfect day! i was up by 7, and i basically spent the whole day drinking and playing WoW. Around 9 o'clock, we realized we had no food, and Mom was sober and needed champagne, so we decide to head out to Alberstons. she goes and gets dressed to the nines so that we can go to the grocery store. crazy woman. in Alberstons, i terrorized badgered the patrons, danced with strangers, sang with one of the bag boys, and generally made a nuisance of myself. we stayed an hour. it was like a party! ha. my own sad version of a NYE party at a friggin grocery store. love it. after that, Mom wanted El Pollo Loco, and then for some inexplicable reason, she thought it was a good idea to drive around looking for Malik. huh? i was drunk, and my diatribe on Malik and his utter loser-ness was out of my mouth before i could think better of it. so we had an argument, and then stopped talking to each other for about 20 minutes. then we made up and were best friends again. so mature, are we.
i don't know how i managed to stay on my feet. i never crashed, but Barb did. oh, now that was funny. one second, she was there watching BET's countdown of the top 20 videos, the next she was gone. she woke up for the midnight toast, though. i made it all the way to 2am, and unbelievably, J would not stay up with me. he made a drunken confession to being confused by a game show that featured men dressed as gorgeous women, and "they were hot. i mean, they had tits and everything, and... what does that mean, Lana?" hilarious. i let the poor boy go to bed after that. David crashed. everyone left. except for Tyson & Sam. thus proving that 20 year olds really can out-party 34+ men. sad.
i'm almost done with a gallon of water. i've been up since 9. what to do today, what to do! we're still on holiday, there must be some fun to be had somewhere!
so. on Friday, B got off early from work, and since there was absolutely no one left at the institute except me and Steve, i took off too. because i'm responsible like that. instead of taking her sick self home as any sane person would, after she picked me up, being the dutiful, caring and concerned daughter that i am, i persuaded B that perhaps we might stop in at the Westin for a cocktail or two. i went to nursing school, ok. i studied strep throat and remedies. it clearly states in that big huge book they make us buy first year, that strep can be cured by massive amounts of alcohol, good conversation, and the occasional marijuana pipe. how come i don't know how to spell marijuana? how come i don't know how to spell at all?
we got to the Westin about 4.45pm, and since it was only early evening, we had no intention of staying. after all, it's Friday night, the eve of New Year's Eve, and who can imagine staying for hours and hours in one place on purpose. since it was early, Arnulfo was on deck, and i swear he looks just like Trini. in fact, when Trini finally showed his face, i coudln't tell them apart. i hadn't seen Trini in what three months, i forget how handsome he is. short, true, but handsome. and crazy as hell. he has a maniacal laugh that demands reciprocation. very fun to drink with Trini. especially when he makes his unbelievably atomic French martinis.
Do You Know the Way to San Jose... la la la la la la laaaaaaaaa...
as usual, we met some great people. two co-eds who were 30+ but had enough boobage between them to rival Pamela Anderson. so, of course, i was in love with them. boobage = good times. Amber and Christina. Blonde & Brunette. Bombshell and Athletic. Blue eyes & Brown. and both cute! they were on holiday from San Jose and looking for fun, so we four hung out together in drunken abandon, and were fed more drinks than any four chicks should be able to consume. SHOTS! Christina is a bartender. i asked her to deconstruct Trini's French martini, since he refuses to tell me what he puts in it, and she deduced that his secret ingredient is Triple Sec. honestly, i don't know why Triple Sec always knocks me on my ass, but there it is. no wait, it's everclear that knocks me out. nevermind.
after a couple of hours, Mom got picked up by Joe & Lindsay, a couple who weren't really a couple, according to Joe. uh huh. Lindsay was the classic permanent girlfriend. she knows her boyfriend is an asshole, but she loves his dirty drawers, so what can she do. he knows that she's the only chick in the world who will put up with his bullshit. initially they seem to make an odd couple, Lindsay petite, mousy with brown curls and glasses, Joe the tall, red faced loud mouth, but it's obvious that there's a whole lot of history there. "ten years," Lindsay says, and calmly sips more red wine. it's not her first glass, it won't be her last. cute. we happily added them to the party, with Joe telling the most terribly corny jokes this side of creation.
"Eddie Murphy's Delirious & Raw!" he shouts with glee while Lindsay lowers her head to the bar with a groan.
"Oh God," Barb is no more happy than Lindsay when she sees the answering gleam in my eye.
"Funniest shit EVAH," i declare.
"Fuck Chris Rock," says Joe.
so, of course, we were required to run bits. as loudly as possible, hanging off of each others shoulders, holding our stomachs and gasping. haven't lived until you've sung "i got some icecream... and you can't have none" at the top of your lungs in the middle of a hotel bar. hell, fuck Eddie Murphy, i think we got the funny thing sewed up. well. apparently not, because our group abandoned us to our dorkery, and it took us a few minutes to figure out that we were only amusing ourselves. party poopers.
when we rejoined our party, yet another member had been added by the name of Bridge, a marine on leave who was heading back to Tokoyo in the morning. delicious does not describe. what's it about the military that just breeds hotness? the man's arms felt like steel. and they were all corded and ripply and undulating, and mesmerizing, really. stomach an actual washboard. eyes like brown velvet. he was all chocolately goodness. "SHOTS!" he didn't want to do them because he had the early 18 hour flight, but come on. who can say no to me? relentless is not the word. obnoxious might be the word, if you ask Barb, but whatever. so long as i get my way.
Missed Opportunities
more hours pass and we decide that pictures are necessary. the party's breaking up, and Mom and i are supposed to be going to the movies. we settle the tab, i love my bartenders. i swear our tab is never higher than $30. i swear it shouldn't have been less than $100, but who am i to argue. i proposition Trini for the 435439828 time, and he cackles with glee. so in love with Trini. Christina sidles over to me and whispers, "do you guys smoke? why don't you come up to our room?" people in Cali are so generous with the pot. "can you do that in a hotel?" asks me, Lana the Clueless. "suuuuuuuuuuuuure," she says. i'm all for it, but Bridge wants none of it.
"what, are you afraid it's about to turn into a Girls Gone Wild thing?"
"nah, just not my scene. i'm going back to my room. 718."
"but, but, if you leave, i can't molest you anymore!"
"718."
hotness. did i go? of course not. sigh. perhaps therapy will get me over this nutty intimidation thing. really, it's getting ridiculous. perhaps i'm going to just have to make myself do it. face my fears. jump in with both feet. next time it happens, by god, i'm going to do it. ha, now there's a New Year's resolution.
upstairs we go, but not to 718, dammit. the whole group sans Bridge piles into the room and out comes the pipe and pot. poor Joe. i tell you, get a man in a small place with a whole bunch of women and he just falls to pieces. in his defense, Amber was totally rocking her tank top. can't put a rack like that on display and not have a man kick himself for bringing his girlfriend along. after about 20 minutes, i notice that Lindsay has gotten really quiet, in that seething kind of rage that only permanent girlfriends get, and since Amber & Christina were too nice to ask them to leave, i do my normal "control the situation thing" and collect Barb so that we can say our goodbyes. "come back tomorrow!" they tell us.
it's only 10.30, and we don't want to go home, so we decide that we should still go to the movies. except we can't decide which movie theatre to go to, so basically, we just drove around in traffic for a couple of hours, wasting gas, talking, laughing at people, and generally being merry. and of course, the rest is mostly blank. in Santa Monica, we went to Sav On to get tequila for Barb. there was a sobriety checkpoint scare, some poor chick had driven her car into a pole, and was being put through the paces. i think that's when we decided to take our law breaking asses home.
New Year's Eve
Saturday, it rained! finally! the perfect day! i was up by 7, and i basically spent the whole day drinking and playing WoW. Around 9 o'clock, we realized we had no food, and Mom was sober and needed champagne, so we decide to head out to Alberstons. she goes and gets dressed to the nines so that we can go to the grocery store. crazy woman. in Alberstons, i terrorized badgered the patrons, danced with strangers, sang with one of the bag boys, and generally made a nuisance of myself. we stayed an hour. it was like a party! ha. my own sad version of a NYE party at a friggin grocery store. love it. after that, Mom wanted El Pollo Loco, and then for some inexplicable reason, she thought it was a good idea to drive around looking for Malik. huh? i was drunk, and my diatribe on Malik and his utter loser-ness was out of my mouth before i could think better of it. so we had an argument, and then stopped talking to each other for about 20 minutes. then we made up and were best friends again. so mature, are we.
i don't know how i managed to stay on my feet. i never crashed, but Barb did. oh, now that was funny. one second, she was there watching BET's countdown of the top 20 videos, the next she was gone. she woke up for the midnight toast, though. i made it all the way to 2am, and unbelievably, J would not stay up with me. he made a drunken confession to being confused by a game show that featured men dressed as gorgeous women, and "they were hot. i mean, they had tits and everything, and... what does that mean, Lana?" hilarious. i let the poor boy go to bed after that. David crashed. everyone left. except for Tyson & Sam. thus proving that 20 year olds really can out-party 34+ men. sad.
i'm almost done with a gallon of water. i've been up since 9. what to do today, what to do! we're still on holiday, there must be some fun to be had somewhere!