(no subject)
Today I had the absolute worst hangover I've had in my entire life, bar none. It made me realize that I need to create a strict four to five drink limit--that is, if I ever don't feel like vomiting at the idea of alcohol. This has been the longest day ever. And it's not like I just sat around and did nothing and wallowed in my pain, either...
Yeah, there was a lot of that, but it was precursed by fun. Today Cory and I mopeded downtown and went to the Bagelry, then went out to Whatcom Falls to swim. The swimming was very much fun, though the entire time I was fighting the urge to vomit out my eyes. We swam and had much fun and then, finally, after I had been sleeping in some grass for a while, I hurled. It wasn't like I had privacy, either. It was like, a park full of people. It was the grossest thing that's ever happened to me. And I'm sure it traumatized me from cinnimon-walnut bagels--not to mention the Mickey's Ice, Liquid Charge and Monarch vodka mixed very stiffly with 7-11 oranges and cream slurpees.
I wasn't sure at the time, but when I got home and vomited some more in the bushes outside my apartment today, there was DEFINITELY hopps and fuckin' barley in there. Like, the booze was just hanging out in my stomach for hours and hours and hours. Whatever, booze, whatever. Never drinking again unless it's a very joyous celebration, and I can monitor exactly how many drinks I'm having. Because, how many drinks' worth is even IN a Mickey's Ice forty!? More importantly, how much vodka did I pour into my slurpee? There's no telling.
Chris, Cory and I did have fun though, from what I can remember. Like, we drank down our forties and then put them in sobe and apple juice bottles so we could go drink them in the hot tub. Beligerence didn't come until the Monarch, much later--but surely the most fun moment I remember from last night was swimming drunk in my apartment complex's pool in my skivvies. I know, they say it's dangerous and never do it [swim drunk] but sweet darling Jesus was that ever fun!
To clear up a very screwy misconception: Cory and I didn't do it. It's just that, because Chris passed out on the couch, Cory fell asleep in my doorway and was leaked on all night by my wet swim garmets. At like 5 in the morning he woke me up from a very drunken stupor and asked if I had an extra blanket. I didn't, so I told him he could sleep in my bed. That's all, stupid accusing Jenny. And Chris, I'm sorry if you saw us in bed together and were startled in the morning--it was nothing!
Apparently Cory and Chris are members of Angora Soft now, by the way. Very funny. I like that band, it's good live and drunk.
Yeah, there was a lot of that, but it was precursed by fun. Today Cory and I mopeded downtown and went to the Bagelry, then went out to Whatcom Falls to swim. The swimming was very much fun, though the entire time I was fighting the urge to vomit out my eyes. We swam and had much fun and then, finally, after I had been sleeping in some grass for a while, I hurled. It wasn't like I had privacy, either. It was like, a park full of people. It was the grossest thing that's ever happened to me. And I'm sure it traumatized me from cinnimon-walnut bagels--not to mention the Mickey's Ice, Liquid Charge and Monarch vodka mixed very stiffly with 7-11 oranges and cream slurpees.
I wasn't sure at the time, but when I got home and vomited some more in the bushes outside my apartment today, there was DEFINITELY hopps and fuckin' barley in there. Like, the booze was just hanging out in my stomach for hours and hours and hours. Whatever, booze, whatever. Never drinking again unless it's a very joyous celebration, and I can monitor exactly how many drinks I'm having. Because, how many drinks' worth is even IN a Mickey's Ice forty!? More importantly, how much vodka did I pour into my slurpee? There's no telling.
Chris, Cory and I did have fun though, from what I can remember. Like, we drank down our forties and then put them in sobe and apple juice bottles so we could go drink them in the hot tub. Beligerence didn't come until the Monarch, much later--but surely the most fun moment I remember from last night was swimming drunk in my apartment complex's pool in my skivvies. I know, they say it's dangerous and never do it [swim drunk] but sweet darling Jesus was that ever fun!
To clear up a very screwy misconception: Cory and I didn't do it. It's just that, because Chris passed out on the couch, Cory fell asleep in my doorway and was leaked on all night by my wet swim garmets. At like 5 in the morning he woke me up from a very drunken stupor and asked if I had an extra blanket. I didn't, so I told him he could sleep in my bed. That's all, stupid accusing Jenny. And Chris, I'm sorry if you saw us in bed together and were startled in the morning--it was nothing!
Apparently Cory and Chris are members of Angora Soft now, by the way. Very funny. I like that band, it's good live and drunk.