Thursday, October 18, 2012

No excuse needed

As I sat in dead stopped traffic on the approach to the freeway tonight, any last remaining willpower to not drink vanished.  Horrendous traffic?  Wine!  Giants lose?  Beer!  49ers win?  Vodka!  You see how it goes...

Now I should preface this by saying, in all honesty, that I have a drinking problem.  God that sounds so intense.  I'm an alcoholic.  Wait no that's worse.  How about "I fucking love drinking now get the fuck out of my way unless you want to stick it in" ("it" being a penis and "in" meaning any vague direction I gesture to with my hands).  That being said...

Here are some excellent reasons to drink that I've employed over the last two weeks.  Feel free to borrow them - they are foolproof (which I just proved by googling how to spell that word!  Blogging + wine = excellent)

1) While you wait for food: "One mejor pollo asado burrito with black beans and guacamole.  To go.  And can I have a Stella for while I wait."  This one requires you to own it, as the cashier will undoubtedly smirk... since it takes approximately 3 minutes to make a burrito.  Whatever, what the fuck else am I going to do?
2) I got dangerously close to shedding one artful tear in therapy... so obviously needed 3 beers to shove those emotions back down under the liver where they belong.  Of course, they do find a way of coming out eventually (just like me - ZING!) - recently my "allergies kicked in" when I caught the end of Homeward Bound on tv.  Shut up.  They made it home - so amazing!  Also pollen and dander and whatever.
3) Work party... aka every day, aka there is a stocked bar 10 feet from my hallway cube.  I used to not drink at work, because I get comfortable and start saying inappropriate things ("You had a booger hanging out your nose during that meeting and we all talked about it after," "I call you babe behind your back because you look like a pig" etc. etc.), but then I relaxed a bit.  And I haven't gotten fired (yet).  Win win.
4) Presidential debates!  I mean this is a no brainer.  I actually made it like 10 minutes in the other night before turning to my dear friend vodka, so I was nice and buzzed by the time the whole binder full of women shit happened.  In my stupor I internet-ed that phrase immediately, and definitely think I can take credit for that meme.  As soon as someone explains to me what a meme is.  My mom actually probably knows.
5. Thursday through Monday, aka the gay weekend.  Fridays and Saturdays are for amateurs - Thursday and Sunday are where it's at.  Of course that usually means I need to hair-of-the-dog it on Monday, and I always end up going out Friday and Saturday anyway.  I mean come on, it's Friday and Saturday.
6) Pitch Perfect.  Since I don't smoke weed anymore (now that I have severe anxiety issues and my heart starts to pound super fast and I give myself a hernia [wait what's a hernia (just googled it, that's not what I meant.  Ulcer?  let's go with that)] it's just not fun) I need to liven things up at funny movies. I maybe had Ainate smuggle a Sam Adams Light into the movie theater in her purse.  I'm classy, so I wouldn't put it down my pants like she suggested (just kidding, I totally did) (just kidding, she didn't suggest that) (at least not out loud).

Okay that's it for now.  I have to go mow on this burrito and see if the wine decanted (see above re: being a classy lady).  Lemon out!

Monday, October 1, 2012

That thing where you drink for 9 hours.

In hindsight, I probably should have stopped drinking when I realized I was lost, but only 6 blocks from my house.  That would have been the responsible decision though, and lord knows I don't make any of those.  Hasia's birthday went from fun daytime drinking to sloppy twilight drinking to downright nasty nighttime holy shit-ness... and that's where our story begins.

Location: Beauty Bar.  Sample Yelp reviews: "dingy" "disgusting" "Super Hipsters" "smells like ass sweat every time."  Needless to say, we had a great time.

We were maybe 15 strong at that point, but had collectively drank enough to subdue 24 frat boys (including pint-size margaritas that I can safely call "rape in a glass").  I, for one, was doing my patented "turn around" dance move that involves a full circle.  Correctly executed, you do a 360-turn without missing a beat (literally!).  Not done correctly, you stumble around in a circle for a few minutes and then find someone new to dance with because you can't even remember who was in front of you twenty seconds ago.

After I slapped a random ass but before I got freaky with a black girl, I got up on a tiny stage to dance.  Because nothing says "nice to meet you" to a coworker than booty-dancing her on a stage in front of her new boyfriend.  We only lasted one song.  I'd like to say I had an agressive dismount from the stage.  Others might call it falling off.  Either way, I plowed into a group of tiny Asians like I was the bowling ball and they were the pins.  (Sidenote: is Asian bowling a thing?  I kinda think it should be??)  Only a firm grasp from Sully kept me from the strike I was clearly going for.

One short car ride later, and we were at Toad Hall.  I think I lasted 10 minutes.  I tagged out after I realized I was standing alone in the corner, awkwardly staring at people that walked by and hoping that one of them would magically decide to make out with me.  I made it to the pizza place and successfully bought two slices of pizza.  I walked as far as my barbershop where I decided to eat the pizza, standing against the wall like some kind of grifter (who has pepperoni all over his shirt).

When I woke up, my mouth was open and so dry that my lips were stuck to my teeth.  I momentarily thought I had developed West Nile or Ebola and was dead.  Sadly, still alive.  I scanned my room - clothes on the ground (standard), wallet hanging out of my dresser drawer (interesting), everything on my dresser half on the ground (wait what?).  Judging by the angle, it looks like I fell as I entered my room and knocked almost everything off my dresser.  But the pizza paper plate (great band name!) was grease-glued in place, so that's cool.

All in all, a happy birthday was had by everyone!  But mostly me.