Sunday, July 24, 2005

What's up? More Partying

Just so y'all fine folk know, I had made up my mind that this Friday would be relatively sober. And in fact, it proceeded along those lines, too - me and Rebecca went to Newport on the Levee and had a nice and quiet dinner with almost no signs of partying. In fact, when I had gotten home, I was quite certain that I was absolutely, well and truly cognizant of my surroundings. However, I wake up in the middle of the night for a drink - a nice cup of cool water, mind you - and walk into a hall that looked straight out of a Roman orgy. For a brief moment, I wasn't even certain if I was in the right apartment (hey, it's known to happen!). I came to the realization that scantily clad women do not live in my house (as much as I'd wish that they did) and for a while I wondered if I really did have a wine or two earlier in the evening. I was quite certain that I was definitely sleepwalking, and these images were straight out of my fantasies. I was probably having a dream while walking, which is quite plausible, mind you. Then, I noticed someone saying out loud, "Someone get this man a drink!". Usually, things in my dreams want to kill me, not offer me drinks, so that was a good sign. However, I wasn't really sure if a drink in the middle of the night was a good idea by any measure. But, before I knew it, I was well and truly on my way to indulge in yet another debauchery (well, not really, but it did seem like the kinda thing that was going on at my apartment). To this moment, I'm uncertain if it was all my imagination or not, but I sincerely hope it is. I don't think I'd ever admit to having embarrassed myself so much, or so I'd like to believe. So, anyway, come Saturday morning and I realize that I've been partying for everyday the previous week, which cannot bode well. The day went fairly sober, except that I got my hair cut like a cross between a marine and a porcupine and me, Mark and Beck went to an excellent traditional Indian restaurant called Udipi, where I met up with some folks from my highschool days - folks I'd not met in over eight years. It was a fun experience, for the most part and the food was wonderful. And it was a sobering experience, too. Now it was about 9 in the night, and I was being a good kid reading a nice pleasant book and was glad that I wasn't out there partying. Well, not really happy, but more like a guilty kinda happy, if you know what I mean. But some things are simply not meant to be. Why? Because Jen calls and asks me if there're any plans for the night. After three hours of getting lost, doing nails and makeup, taking a long shower, doing her hair and fighting over torn jeans and tops she comes home, dressed like a snazzy movie star. Anyway, we decide to have a drink and then get out and head out to my favorite hangout - yup - the Beer Sellar! A few shots and drinks later, Jen was back to her spirits again (sorry, bad pun). And what do we do? Well, the bright kids that we are, we end up debating the whole right-wing-nut-job-liberal-weenie thing. I'm not even kidding you. After arguments, drinks, food and other things, Jen crashes at my place at 4 in the morning. On Sunday. And now, it's Sunday afternoon. I'm fairly certain that today will definitely not be a party-day. I swear! I sincerely, solemnly swear to all you fine folks that I will not party this hard for a long, long time. Well, for very small values of a long time, but trust you me! Hangovers on every day of the week is not my idea of fun. Not anymore at least. Hello? Hello....? hel...^c NO CARRIER