2007-09-03
rhapsody on a (tired) theme
NOW PLAYING in the Rori Costello Theater of Hangover: Monster Nap Extravaganza.
Actually, scratch that. I wouldn't so much call it a "hangover" as I was "still drunk" until about eleven this morning. Very troubling, as I worked a 7:00 am. Needless to say I was very late, then did a substandard job and probably overcharged everybody with the misfortune to choose my register. I was extraordinarily friendly to customers though, so I guess it's a tradeoff.
Anyway, enough whining. Let's talk about last night, because it was truly like a Christmas Carol of debauchery. Gillie's new place turned out to be the perfect setting for an impromptu party, especially since a few of her select associates turned out to be definite candidates for the Nobel Prize in the field of Drink-mixing. I was even a touch jealous until Celtic dancing broke out party-wide -- you know I'm no athlete, but I can still do an award-worthy jig. Oh, And if 'Laughing: hysterical' ever makes it to the Olympics, my team will undoubtedly take the gold.
We were craving for a change of scenery so it was off to State Street to party-hunt. If you're in town and in need of a party, State is not a bad place to start looking since it's a whole city disctrict whose economy depends on people getting wasted and making poor dietary judgements. It was standard college-party fare-- drank a little, talked to strangers, snapped some embarassing photos, professed our undying love to casual aquaintances. I think you can picture the scene.
The rest of the night was sort of a variety bag. Mickey called with the urgent demand that I come home to let keyless-Ali into our apartment, but floor eight was vacant when I got here. Ali and co. had fled to floor five for -- can you guess what's coming? -- another party. Then we all time traveled an hour into the future (OR I just can't remember that hour, I don't know for sure) when Mickey and Chris and John came over to hang out, eat pizza, and make fun of my clothes. Memories here are splotchy and not to be trusted, but I do recall thinking that John was Brian (and trying to convince him this was true) and inventing a secret hookah handshake with Mickey.
Phew!
I hope you enjoyed the epic poem that was this entry. I am sorry for the terrible lack of content variety these days, but I'm trying to satisfy my drunken crazy instincts before classes start. Which is tomorrow, so readers, we've reached the bitter end.
If, however, you just can't get enough of this stuff, then there are plenty of photographic representations of the past few days for you to check out on Facebook. I don't look good in any of these pictures, but my friends do so I will post them anyway because I am so totally selfless that I would prefer them to look good in photos.
zebrasaur at 12:57 p.m.
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