Has it really been a week since my last post? Sorry. (Says the boyfriend "You're writing an entry? I didn't even know you had an online journal anymore.")
The Christmas Tree is still up. I clearly am having a very productive period in my life right now.
So, Saturday night I went to Tucson for a bachelorette party. The bachelorette was one of my friends from summer camp; her two sisters (also friends from summer camp) were throwing the party.
I drank a cup of coffee (that term loosely applies. It was something called a Pumpkin Spice Latte, and it came from a gas station. It's a tasty and delightful hot beverage, but it in no way tastes like or resembles anything I've ever had that actually contained trace amounts of coffee.) on the way down because I was feeling a little tired and I was pretty sure it would be a late night. I'm not sure why I consume caffeine. One small cup of coffee is enough to make me wired and dizzy and quite uncomfortable (but also much friendlier and more productive).
I ended up having something on the order of 9 alcoholic beverages on top of the cup of coffee. Three is enough to get me drunk and I had three glasses of red wine before we actually left the house. Then I kept drinking.
Somewhere after eight drinks, we ran into the only other two souls I know in Tucson. I was so completely trashed, and I sincerely hope I didn't make too large an ass out of myself. I remember trying to explain to them that the bride was honestly one of the most perfect human beings I'd ever met. And that is true, but it's probably not the kind of thing to try to explain when drunk.
By the walk home, I knew I was slurring a bit and I remember consciously thinking that I needed to just try to stop talking because I was really, really trashed.
But I had fun and most importantly, the bride had fun. And it was good to see my friends. And I didn't fall down or throw up or anything completely humiliating. I just might've been a bit too chatty for one whose brain wasn't working properly.
I would like everyone to know that I have some sort of rash on my face. It's been there for two days now and I think it exists because I have gradually become a champion sleep drooler. It's really disgusting (the drooling) and I think something in my spit (or just chapping) has created this nastiness on my face.
Either that or the mother's family's history of ruddiness has suddenly caught up with my complexion and rather than starting with my nose, it's appeared on the right side of my mouth.
Either way, it's gross (completely non itchy and asymptomatic aside from being red and rough) and I give it two more days to go away and then my ass is calling in every professional favor I can manage so I can get to the dermatologist post-haste. I am much, much too vain to walk around with a rash on my face. Especially if it's from drooling too much in my sleep.
And now I have to go and buy bleach because out of the goodness of my heart (and also because I share a shower with a boy who has athlete's foot), I have offered to bleach all of Steady's socks in really really hot water. He's gathering the socks, which means I have to go buy some bleach.
I've never had athlete's foot, and I have spent approximately 88% of my life sharing a shower with at least one, if not as many as 50+ other people without ever wearing shower shoes. And I'm not gonna get it now.
The Fine Print:
posted by mary ann 8:06 PM