littlewashu: (james t. kirk - spitting back the coffee)
Man, I could really go for a bourbon-and-Pepsi in my new, officially sanctioned Jim Beam highball right about now, I will tell you what.

I'm not even stressed or anything, just . . . bored.
littlewashu: (kurt)
Hey guys, pictures from Dave's Birthday are up!

For those of you that weren't there, though it was Dave's birthday, Flapjack ended up being the star of the evening. I arrived very late that night: I had taken a nap which spun out of control, woke up at 10:30, and was over at the Manse sometime before midnight. By the time I got there, most everyone was pretty drunk already, particularly Flaps. Apparently Flapjack the Kid had never gotten sick from drinking before, and everyone took this as a challenge. They were feeding him shots left and right, often of 151. He passed out eventually on a chair in the game room. After an hour or so of that, he did indeed roll onto the linoleum and t'row up, poor guy. I wasn't involved with the alchohol pushing, so I wasn't involved with the cleanup. I'm pretty sure Flapjack survived.

As sometimes happens with birthday pictures, I got, like, two of the actual birthday guy. Oh well. And there aren't that many -- less than 20 -- so don't get your hopes up.

Pictures from last year's Bonnaroo are next in line. (I figure I should get them finished before THIS year's Bonnaroo, which I am indeed going to, by the way). I made it an organizational nightmare for myself, but I'm finally at a point where I can just get through them. I'm sure this is all very fascinating for you.

Okay, thanks! I'd rather be home! It's my birthday! Have a great Thursday. I'm sorry that I couldn't bring you unseasonably warm weather this year.
littlewashu: (Default)
Last night Jon "Calamity Jon" Morris told me I was an alcoholic. I'm not, I don't think, but I can see how he can think that, judging from this past weekend.

Thursday night I didn't get much sleep, maybe about four hours or so. This is the first prong of my three-pronged excuse. The second is that I didn't have any dinner on Friday, and now that I think about it, I didn't have much lunch either. The third prong is that I'm a retard and did three shots before we even left 508. And I had a drink. And then did another shot and had another drink as soon as we got to Manning & Ben's. I don't know what I was thinking.

But so hey, what I remember of the party was great! Seriously. And I like walking around South Street at night, Manning has the best location ever. It's awesome. And apparently Jon and I had a really great conversation in some park. Or so he tells me.

So, yeah. Party was Friday night. I passed out, and people stood around and looked at me and poked me and made fun of me and pretended to demand oral sex from me. I declined. Then we came home -- Kelly and I were loud and girly and noisy on the Speedline, and I made a phone call, and I remember making the phone call but I don't remember what I said. So I asked Kelly what my end of the conversation sounded like and she said that I said "um, helLO??" a lot so that's my new catchphrase. Watch out. "Um, helLO??"

Saturday I slept late. Mitch and I ordered a pizza from a place called New York Style Pizza or something. I knew we were good to go when the dude on the phone could barely speak Engish, he was so Italian. Then he put the delivery guy on the phone so that I could give him directions, and HE could barely speak English. That's hot. The pizza was pepperoni and homemade meatballs, and man oh man, it was freaking good. Next time we order pizza at that house (or mine, they deliver to my neck of the woods too!), I'm putting in a request for New York Style Pizza.

After the pizza, and watching Mitch play a little Zelda, I went home and played some Animal Crossing and got ready to go to New York. I drove up to New Brunswick, because that is where Ill and Mambo and Nadine live. We ate at the diner. I had a grilled cheese sandwich. Nadine came a little later and looked at our sandwiches and decided she wanted a BLT. She said she could eat anytime. She said "give me two hours," and she could have a whole 'nother meal.

That's my kind of woman.

There was multi-layered discussion about how we were getting our asses to New York, and finally we decided to drive, Nadine behind the wheel. That's hot. Driving (when you're not the one doing it) is SO much more convenient, generally speaking. Sorry, trains!

We got to New York and met up with M and Jenny and Nine. Then we proceeded to barhop. We must have covered the entire Village. It was great. We went to El Sombrero ("the Hat") and had frosty margaritas. We had pitchers of beer at a beer place. We went to the Motor City. We met up with some guy whose LJ name has "underscore eks" in it. We also met up with Steve, whom I adore, and whom I had not seen since November. His girlfriend showed up later, and she seemed nice. They played "Chains of Love" by Erasure at one of the bars. Nadine and I played Ms. Pacman in one of those table-top jawns, and we high-fived after either of us completed a level. I lit the cigarette of a punk-rawk Conan O'Brien. I wore my Las Vegas visor sometimes, and some guy on the street said "we got a card shark over here!" I told too many secrets.

Team Ohio couldn't keep up with us in terms of drinking, so they dipped out at some point. We were out real late, maybe three? Are bars in New York allowed to be open til three? I'll tell you one thing they're not allowed to do, they're not allowed to have SMOKING in them! Man, I knew this to be true, but it's bizarre to experience. You have to go OUTSIDE to smoke a cigarette. What is this, a house party? Amazing.

Somewhere around a million o'clock we started to head home. But not before we stopped at a Belgian frites place and had Belgian frites. At first I was dipping in ketchup like a Philistine until I tried the garlic dip and then YUM YUM YUM and also there was a mango one and also another one. I love food.

Nadine drove home because she rules and we all passed out. I got up at around eleven the next morning and drove home in the sunshine and listened to old tapes, because my cd player broke this weekend. Man, tape quality SUCKS. I'm so spoiled.

Sunday I accomplished a few things, which makes me feel good about it. Not much, just all the dishes, and cleaning out the catbox, and yadda yadda yadda. It was something. Then I played a little bit of Animal Crossing and a lot of Zelda. Then I got ready to go to dinner. I wore that dress I mentioned last week, the couch one. I flipped my hair out. I drove to Morimoto and found a spot down the street, for free (free). I met Tami and Manning and Jon and Kevin and Karen up in the bar and had a cocktail and then we ate dinner. Dinner was, of course, delishus. We had five different appemetizers (plus oysters AGAIN because they screwed up and gave us oysters twice.) Lobster and oysters and oysters with foie gras and scallops and one other thing I can't remember. I also had a soup -- dobin moshi. It was really really good broth, it comes in a little teapot and you pour the soup into a teacup and drink it. And there was one (1) shrimp and one (1) wild mushroom and one (1) piece of chicken in it, AND one (1) piece of some kind of fishy thing even though there wasn't supposed to be. So I don't know what it was. But it was good.

I had the $30 Chef's Combination again, which is what I had last time. I gave away my unagi because I didn't want it. But the rest was so good. I've still only had sushi like 5 or 6 times ever, but I should more often, because I really like it a lot.

Most of us had choclate temples for dessert. It wasn't the same as last time! And then we went to Delilah's.

Oh wait, I'm not done! I chipped my tooth! Okay, remember last weekend when I was worried what my mom would say about the ol' nose piercing? Her reaction was "so does this mean you're taking the one out of your mouth?" My parents really totally despise my tongue piercing. It's hilarious. I have no idea what the big deal is. You hardly ever SEE it! My mom was all "but I hear stories, infections and chipped teeth and yadda yadda yadda" and I said condescendingly, "MOM. I've had it for five years, it's not going to suddenly get infected. And I haven't chipped a tooth! If I haven't chipped a tooth, I'm not going to." And then eight days later I chip a tooth! It's because those dang sushi rolls are so big, so I have all this food in my mouth at once and I can't tell where anything is and BANG! Yikes. The very first sushi roll. Oh well. It's on the inside towards the back, it doesn't even feel jagged anymore, I probably won't even end up doing anything about it. I keep feeling it with my tongue.

Okay, so then we went to Delilah's. We had a few drinks and watched the pretty ladies dance. None of them really caught my eye, but that's okay. I finally (for the second time) got to really sit down and talk with Jon, so that was pretty sweet. I kept saying stuff and he'd say "yeah, that's what you said at the park." All the time. He claims that we spent 15-20 minutes in the park, so he must not have gotten a word in edgewise, because we covered a LOT of ground. Apparently. He could be making it all up.

I had a couple drinks and a super-large shot of tequila. Karen and Kevin stayed for about a drink, and then the remaining four of us closed the joint. It was pretty empty by the time we left. I drove everybody home and said goodbye to Jon and returned to Jersey.

So that was it! This was a really good weekend. It involved a lot of drinking, but no getting sick (well, not by me), no hangovers, no arrests, no regrettable hookups. My nights were busy and my days were lazy. The sun was out. I ate a lot of food. I smoked a lot of cloves. I hung out with Internet personalities. Life is good. I'm not an alcoholic, though, right?
littlewashu: (Default)
Today seems very very weird. Not unpleasant, just . . . weird. And it seems to be creeping by SO slowly! Not in the normal I'm-impatient-to-go-home way, just . . . I keep looking at the time and finding myself amazed at how early it still is. Okay I think i can describe it better -- usually I'm like "arrgh I can't believe it's still X hours til I get to go home" but today I'm like "man, it's only been X hours since lunch? Amazing." Maybe it's because I came in late today.

I made potato soup last night, for eight billion people! Not really eight billion, but thirteen people came! If you count me, and you'd better, then that's fourteen! I made two pots of soup, one with bacon and one lacking bacon, and they were both scraped clean. The soup was good. I hardly had any. I just . . . wasn't hungry, I guess. It tasted really good, though. And thick! I was supposed to put 14 cups of milk in each pot (fourteen cups of milk!) but I only put in seven or so. I sort of like it better that way, though it's less soup and more . . . gruel. If gruel can be good. Can gruel be good? Has it just gotten a bad rap, poor gruel? Or does the word "gruel" specifically mean that it's nasty?

I drank too much wine. Well, I drank a lot of wine, anyway, and was running around, and then we smoked, and all of a sudden I realized, "uh oh". So I made a glass of ice water and I tried to stay kinda still and just MAINTAIN, you know what I mean? So my guests started leaving and I just said goodbye from the couch, sorry about that. And then one group was leaving -- I can't remember if it was Tami/Manning/Ben or Sarah/Dave/Mambo, they're identical gender combos, and my wine-addled mind can't recall -- and they said goodbye to me, and I stayed on the couch, and someone laughed and said "Washu, you look like you should go to bed," and then another one of them said, a little seriously, "yeah, Washu, go to bed."

Man, go to bed! That honestly hadn't even OCCURRED to me before then, I mean, guests, I had guests! But I realized that, realistically, that was probably the best plan of action. And there's this thing that I do, in many situations, when I'm indecisive -- or rather, when I have a decision to make, and I know what I want to do, but I'm not sure if that's the RIGHT decision to make -- I'm sort of waiting for someone to give me permission, you know? So when that person, whoever it was, Tami or Manning or Dave or Sarah, told me to go to bed, I thought, yes, I will go to bed! I waited until they were gone from the living room, and then made a beeline for my bedroom door. I didn't say goodnight to my remaining guests; I apologize for that, but I didn't think I could take standing and shooting the shit for five more minutes and acting like I was practically okay, which I sort of wasn't, but I also didn't want to mope over and grunt "I'm going to bed thanks for coming," so I just disappeared instead. Thank you to my remaining guests for coming and eating my soup, and for closing up shop when you left so that robbers didn't come in and steal my cat. I went to bed in my clothes and didn't change position, I don't think, all night. And my hair was still up in pigtails and it's curled real nice today so I think I should go to sleep with them up more often, in the future, does anyone know a reason why this wouldn't be a good idea? It won't fall out or anything, will it? My hair?

In the morning I had the tiniest bit of a hangover headache. I probably could have made it in to work on time, but I would have been a zombie and unproductive (pssh, like I accomplish anything before ten on a normal day) so I called work and said I would be late, took a couple Advil, and went back to sleep for another 45 minutes or so. I felt much better, so good plan, Washu! Unfortunately it means I will have to stay until 5:30 tonight, and that sort of sucks, but that's okay, I'll survive.

March 2015

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