31 August 2005

still wasted (she's wasted), wasted from the party last night.

where did those shots come from? and why did i ingest them? i tried a polite "no, thank you", but was threatened, third grade style, with the revocation of a friendship if i did not take the lethal doses of sambuca, tequila and SoCo that were proffered. but there wasn't much i could do, it was my friend's birthday, and my friend is british. and she and all of her crazy british friends are responsible for many of my more debaucherous nights. i grabbed the first shot, inhaled and said to myself: "bite down and hold on, you're gonna be drunk at work tomorrow".

so guess who's drunk at work! woo hoo. being wasted in the office is so very confusing. it's not fun, like being drunk at the bar or at your house or at the dentist (which i'm going to experience shortly if things don't start to look up quick). people are asking me real questions which require real answers and the only thing i can do is think "why is my brain wobbling around like that?" or "do i reek of cigarettes and booze?" or "please, god, do not let me throw up on this person". then occasionally i think about the fact that i am going out tonight and begin weeping, silently.

so i was running into the subway this morning and the train was already in the station, and i thought i'd never make it, but it stayed in the station - like some sort of hangover miracle - and i thought, "wow, this is an auspicious start to the day". i swiped my card, ready to leap triumphantly over the platform and straight into the train as the doors dramatically closed behind me, but then something happened: insufficient fare. my bloody metrocard had gone and died on me. i bade farewell to the train and turned around to cash in my transitchecks... finally i caught a train and -- what the? who didn't staple the metros today? huh!! do you think my failing motor skills can handle an unstapled free shitty newspaper today? do you? they CANNOT i say. NO! i think my valve is acting up! i ended up laughing at my own inability to fold a piece of paper combined with my special hidden talent of getting newsink all over my hands and face. i figured i'd quit whilst i was ahead and skip the crossword altogether.

i alighted at rockerfeller center because my stomach couldn't handle the train anymore and wandered slowly through east midtown (at this point i was already significantly late, so why rush now), swapping text messages with the birthday girl-cum-co-worker which involved multiple uses of the words "evil", "shots", "horrible", "wankered" and "sandwich".

and now it is 1130. i already accidentally deleted my first go at this post, which was infinitely more witty but horribly spelt and punctuated, and still haven't managed to finish eating my breakfast. but i have made plans to spend all day sunday drinking, so that's taken care of.

i just remembered describing how to make a hologram in the following way: "it's like you have two films and then a laser and then it makes a hologram".

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