Dinhternet

Well, I’ve got two days to cover. Let’s see…

Tues­day… I actu­ally “slept in” and didn’t wake up until 9ish. Wow! Went online again like usual, chat­ting it up, vis­it­ing a Xanga or two as well as a bunch of ran­dom sites, and writ­ing up a cou­ple of posts. Because of the dis­trac­tions from the posts, it took me about three hours to do two. That’s slow, even for me, and I take a while to do mine. Watched more animé on the computer.

Expect­ing a long night, I tried to plan ahead and took a nap. For about three hours. Back online for a bit after­wards, and then Joe M called me up with the plans for that night. I was bored, so went over to his place early. We talked for a bit, got some gro­ceries, and then got some food in us. (Not enough, appar­ently.) Called up a bunch of folks and told them the cel­e­bra­tion would begin promptly at 8. Yeah, no one showed up at 8. David and Becca came by a lit­tle after that. So did Jason G. Peggy, our third mus­ke­teer, didn’t even show up until a lit­tle after 9. The three of us started off the night with an Irish car bomb each. (Sup­pos­edly lady’s choice. But it was SO Joe M’s choice. Peggy didn’t seem to enjoy it at all.) And then we played catch-up. Oh man, did we try to make up for lost time. I was at 8 tics on my arm by 11 or so. A lit­tle after that, it hit us. Or at least Joe M and me. Him moreso, but to be fair, he did have more than me. I, being pretty far gone myself, may not have been the best per­son for the job, but I tried to help him out as much as I could.

The last thing I remem­ber that night was that I was in the down­stairs bath­room help­ing Joe M, and then I took a turn for the worse, so we shared the toi­let for a while. Then he slid back into a fetal posi­tion along­side the bath­tub. Then Minh T started coach­ing me, and when I felt bet­ter, I washed up, he took advan­tage of my drunk­en­ness, and then I walked over to the couch and sat down.

I thought that’s where my night ended. But no, appar­ently, I did more. I just don’t remem­ber it. Peo­ple tell me many things about the rest of that night… I’m not sure how much I believe. Sup­pos­edly I was still help­ing Joe M upstairs, too. It’s still shock­ing to me that after the point where I was so drunk I couldn’t remem­ber any­thing, I was still try­ing to help oth­ers. Sup­pos­edly I also bottle-bonged Guin­ness with Bran­don after that. So that puts me at a 9 drink min­i­mum for the night. When I had only planned to do 4 at most. And sup­pos­edly I was able to run quickly to the bath­room on my own. Good for me, but bad for Brandon’s heart, because he thought I was an alien. Or ser­ial killer.

Tuesday’s quote -

“When’s Chris get­ting here? I want him to mix up some drinks for me!”- Eddy.
“I can mix drinks for you…”- Me, pour­ing shots at the time.
“Fuck that. I’m never trust­ing you again after Alice’s birth­day.”- Eddy.

So I guess I have a rep­u­ta­tion for get­ting peo­ple messed up when I play bar­tender. (I hear at least ten peo­ple yakked that night. Thinks back to Alice’s party… also much yakking.) Come to think of it, a lot of peo­ple com­plained my dixie cup shots were a lit­tle too big that night, too. Oh well. … I just want to make sure that every­one has a good time. Is that so wrong?