National Drunken Writing Night
So, it's National Drunken Writing Night. Get drunk and write something, I can do that. I'm damn near an expert in getting drunk, and very few times have I done any decent writing sober. But I'm making a lousy start of it. First of all, I forgot that I was supposed to get ripped, and volunteer to drive to the bar. So, I come back relatively sober, after only a few Capital Winter Skals. At least I think that's what we were drinking. We went to the same bar we always do, and at this point, we walk in, the bartender says "pitcher?" and we say yes. It was definately beer. That much I'm sure of.
So, after a stop for the best damn donuts in Dane County, I'm home in front of my computer, not quite drunk. First order of business: more alcohol. Got a fridge full of beer, except I think if I have more beer, I'll both be tired, and not quite drunk enough. Need hard liqour. Check the liqour shelf. Hoping for schnapps, so I can do shots, but no luck. I could mix either rum of whiskey with my Diet Cherry Coke to get something halfway drinkable, but I keep looking. Ah, here we go: Absente. An Americanized version of absinthe, purchased out of sheer curiousity, and not touched in over a year. Absinthe, rumored to be both the muse and the ruin of many an artiste. That'll work. But how to prepare it?
Traditionally:
1. Put absinthe in glass.
2. Put slotted spoon over glass.
3. Put sugar cube on spoon.
4. Pour cold water over cube, disolving it.
5. Mix.
Ok...just one problem here. Unless.........well I'll be damned. I still have sugar cubes hiding in the back of my liqour shelf. More mellow than I remember it, but it'll work. So, on to the writing.
So, what now? I'd cheated a bit, I've got the first few lines of a story in my head, from the first time I heard about this. But the writing about the writing is not only what I seem to be doing, but more interesting. Screw it, I'm going to drink a little more and think about it.
*time passes*
Well, I've finished the glass. Don't really care for another, but I'm not drunk yet. Need to give that a little thought. Been surfing the other posts for this so far. Either people posted almost nothing and passed out, or are still working on their drunks, so nothing for inspiration out there. The line that caught my eye: "You mean people blog when NOT drunk?" Considering that I've never blogged sober, this night seems a bit redundant now, but what the hell, we'll go on anyway. Managed to type the word "that" when I meant to type the word "what". Caught it and corrected it, but thats kind of odd, and a sign that I may be more drunk than I think I am.
Jason said he'd be on AIM tonight, but I don't see him. Maybe he's writing from the bar. Or maybe he's passed out already. Slightly annoyed that I don't have him to bounce stuff off of. I'd call, but its after midnight. Not that I'd wake up anyone other than his sorry ass, but I try not to call anyone after then.
Hmm...a little more time for the booze to kick in. Or not. Screw it, lets do this. As to the "write fiction, or just ramble incoherently" question, the answer is both at once. I'll figure out a way to mark the rambling as not part of the story. Also, if you recognize any names in the story, its probably you. I'd meant to substitute fake names for the people I had in mind as I wrote this, but it seems like too much work now. Also, I think I'm finally drunk now. Also, I use the word "also" too much.
Story starts here:
Paul peered over the railing, looking downwards, and dropped a stuffed dragon.
"Hey, what was that for?"
"You're supposed to be working on your presentation."
"I am!"
"No you're not, you're playing freecell!"
"Ok, okay...I'm just not coming up with a whole lot for this."
"Well, Jason, you've got fifteen minutes to get something done, because after that, we're going to the bar. I'll call the others."
************************seems like a good way to mark the ramblings. Thats about as much as I'd already had in my head. No idea where I'm going from here. Looks at what other people have written make me feel inferior. No, I take it back. It pisses me off that other people are more eloquent drunk then I can ever hope to be sober. Drunk, I don't stand a chance.
************************You know...I'm not particuarly enjoying this. I used to write all the time, but it's just not in me anymore. It used to be that a part would come to me. A phrase, a sentence, a concept, whatever; I would take that seed, and enjoy nothing more than running with it, bringing it to life. Now, it just seems like work. Sad, I guess, but there just isn't much of a writer in me anymore. Bummer.