(no subject)
Well, I made it safely past my twenty-first birthday and the choas that ensued afterwards.
Friday, my actual birthday, was hangover day one. I woke up and went out to lunch with the boys and a visiting Alison when that little lightbulb sulking above my head shook off the dust and blinked into existance. I could legally buy a beer with my lunch. And so I did, and it was good. Afterwards I headed to Duluth for dinner with the family. It was nice, even though I was a little quiet and edgy due to Thursday night. That evening I went out to Dantanas with the boys, Lisa, Catie, Brett, and Jen, where the bartender bought our table two rounds and me a third round.
Saturday I had to wake up at 7:00am to go to a store meeting, and then I had to be back to clock in at 11:00am. Saturday was not a very pleasant day. After work I picked up Lindsay and headed home to clean up for The Dave and Paul 21st Birthday Extraveganza. All of my good friends showed up, with the exception of two who had lame excuses like "I'm 250 miles away!" In addition, another fifty or so people were in attendance. It was a fun night. The cops came twice, which was not expected; some guy next door (who does not actually live there, I might add) decided to be a douche and not only call the cops but come over and tell us that he did so and rail against us for violating our lease. Naturally, it being my birthday and me being as drunk as I was, this pissed me off, so I began cussing him out. For some odd reason Ronnie pulled me away (odd not because someone pulled me away, but because Ronnie of all people did it) and I broke the news to the guest that the party was over and asked that everyone who could leave do so. After clearing out all of the random kids, we still had, by Nick's count, thirty people over. The cop showed up in the midst of the exodus and, upon witnessing that the party was over, gave me the half-assed lecture of a guy in his mid twenties breaking up a party and left. Katie volunteered to carpool us a mile down the road to Stephen's place, so we packed up the remaining keg and continued the party. Luke drove, Lindsay, my sister and I back to my place at about 5:00am and we went to bed. Overall it was a really fun party; nothing spectacular or out of the ordinary happened, but everyone seemed to have a great time, so I was happy. Oh, and I spent sixty dollars on beer for the party (go, Natty Lite kegs!) and ended up with about two hundred dollars worth of whiskey as gifts. Awesome.
Sunday I woke up at 9:00am and got ready for work. On my way up 85 to drop Lindsay off, the throttle in my car began to make strange noises, the kind that a throttle should not make. Great, I thought; that's more money I don't have. At about that point the engine bucked, kicked out of gear, and belched to a halt. So Lindsay and I got to hang out on the shoulder of I-85 until the wrecker came to get the car and my father came to get us. I was quite late for work. The rest of the day was spent cringing in pain from my third hangover in as many days while trying to be pleasant to Alpharetta fucktards returning $1.49 packs of fuses.
Monday was my first day of 21 without a hangover. I found out exactly what happened to my car; through no apparent fault of mine or anyone else's, the engine threw a piston road right into the block, cracking hundreds of pounds of American cast iron. Awesome. But hey, my poor car is getting a new engine with about half the miles, so hopefully she'll run better than ever. That night I went out with Ronnie, Kyle, and Luke to 10 High for Heavy Metal Karaoke Night. And, while we were rocking out, Nick was standing in line to purchase the Atom Bomb to the Nagasaki of my social and academic lives: Halo II.
Needless to say, I spent Tuesday alternating between studying for Spanish and playing Halo II.
So yeah, that was my weekend. A bit tame, but fun none the less. Here's to legal alcoholism and early liver failure!
Friday, my actual birthday, was hangover day one. I woke up and went out to lunch with the boys and a visiting Alison when that little lightbulb sulking above my head shook off the dust and blinked into existance. I could legally buy a beer with my lunch. And so I did, and it was good. Afterwards I headed to Duluth for dinner with the family. It was nice, even though I was a little quiet and edgy due to Thursday night. That evening I went out to Dantanas with the boys, Lisa, Catie, Brett, and Jen, where the bartender bought our table two rounds and me a third round.
Saturday I had to wake up at 7:00am to go to a store meeting, and then I had to be back to clock in at 11:00am. Saturday was not a very pleasant day. After work I picked up Lindsay and headed home to clean up for The Dave and Paul 21st Birthday Extraveganza. All of my good friends showed up, with the exception of two who had lame excuses like "I'm 250 miles away!" In addition, another fifty or so people were in attendance. It was a fun night. The cops came twice, which was not expected; some guy next door (who does not actually live there, I might add) decided to be a douche and not only call the cops but come over and tell us that he did so and rail against us for violating our lease. Naturally, it being my birthday and me being as drunk as I was, this pissed me off, so I began cussing him out. For some odd reason Ronnie pulled me away (odd not because someone pulled me away, but because Ronnie of all people did it) and I broke the news to the guest that the party was over and asked that everyone who could leave do so. After clearing out all of the random kids, we still had, by Nick's count, thirty people over. The cop showed up in the midst of the exodus and, upon witnessing that the party was over, gave me the half-assed lecture of a guy in his mid twenties breaking up a party and left. Katie volunteered to carpool us a mile down the road to Stephen's place, so we packed up the remaining keg and continued the party. Luke drove, Lindsay, my sister and I back to my place at about 5:00am and we went to bed. Overall it was a really fun party; nothing spectacular or out of the ordinary happened, but everyone seemed to have a great time, so I was happy. Oh, and I spent sixty dollars on beer for the party (go, Natty Lite kegs!) and ended up with about two hundred dollars worth of whiskey as gifts. Awesome.
Sunday I woke up at 9:00am and got ready for work. On my way up 85 to drop Lindsay off, the throttle in my car began to make strange noises, the kind that a throttle should not make. Great, I thought; that's more money I don't have. At about that point the engine bucked, kicked out of gear, and belched to a halt. So Lindsay and I got to hang out on the shoulder of I-85 until the wrecker came to get the car and my father came to get us. I was quite late for work. The rest of the day was spent cringing in pain from my third hangover in as many days while trying to be pleasant to Alpharetta fucktards returning $1.49 packs of fuses.
Monday was my first day of 21 without a hangover. I found out exactly what happened to my car; through no apparent fault of mine or anyone else's, the engine threw a piston road right into the block, cracking hundreds of pounds of American cast iron. Awesome. But hey, my poor car is getting a new engine with about half the miles, so hopefully she'll run better than ever. That night I went out with Ronnie, Kyle, and Luke to 10 High for Heavy Metal Karaoke Night. And, while we were rocking out, Nick was standing in line to purchase the Atom Bomb to the Nagasaki of my social and academic lives: Halo II.
Needless to say, I spent Tuesday alternating between studying for Spanish and playing Halo II.
So yeah, that was my weekend. A bit tame, but fun none the less. Here's to legal alcoholism and early liver failure!