Last night at eight, Tina picked me up. She wasn't expecting me to be ready. She understands how patterns work. She's known me for four or five years now and she gets that the key to getting me out of the house is to show up when I need to start getting ready. Except that what she didn't count on was the five cups of coffee I drank yesterday afternoon.
I was ready in ten minutes. Ten minutes before she arrived actually. I was up and down and everywhere. One hyperactive, fast talking girl. Go GO GO!
We parked about four blocks from the bar we were headed to. We walked by it. It was very very empty. So we kept walking.
We went over to Thoroughbred Park. Neither of us had ever been in it before. Tina had her camera so we took pictures of ourselves interacting with the horses. Petting them, talking to them. It was so wholesome.
We headed up on the hill and discovered a whole pathway of plaques with people's pictures. Except I only saw the WT Young one at first. And so I read the whole thing. I thought maybe he'd donated the money for the park or something. And I was having a hell of a time figuring out why they named every horse he had seemingly ever owned. I was still all hopped up on the coffee. Tina quickly pointed out to me that a) This was Thoroughbred Park and b) there was a whole path of these plaques.
So, after that, we just strolled through and glanced at the names and photos. Elizabeth Arden was on there. Apparently she made her trainers treat her horses with her skincare line. That's what the plaque said anyway.
At nine o'clock we headed for the bar. I ordered one LIT. I think EmmasBoy had something to do with the strength of the thing (he works there). Because it fucking kicked my ass. I think Tina and I did some real bonding last night. I'm not quite sure though because it's just all one long drunken blur (I didn't stop with the ass kicking LIT).
I remember when I started puking. First in the bathroom at the bar. Then outside around the block. Then driving home when Tina pulled the car over (and I opened the door and managed not to throw up on her car one little bit). Then in the trash can outside. Then (wouldn't you think my stomach would be empty by then?) on my bedroom floor.
I got drunk so fast I never reached the point of drunken dial. I didn't come home and try to compose some rambling e mails. I came home and went straight to bed. And puked a bunch once I was there.
Tonight I'm going to some dinner party with WriterGuy and his co-workers where I am pretty sure I am going to be perceived as a 'chippie'.... I have to go work on getting rid of this hangover now.
