Grabbag

In a last-ditch effort to free up some memory in the olde cabeza, which has been rejecting the storage of all kindsa information this week, I decided to "cut loose" last night. I didn't mean to go too far or anything, just drink some beers and not stress out. But, alas, my ladyfriend is off on vacay and I apparently do not know when I should stick to beer and not do whiskey. I am feeling alright now, but I am curious if that will last. Poured some chicken noodle soup (CHUNKY!) and canned froot (CHUNKY! also) and some Gatorade (FROST!) into myself, so hopefully electrolytes do they thang quickly.

I think I probably wind up puking once every month and a half or so, so this wasn't too suprising. However, this was the closest I ever came to puking in the bar... the bathroom at Genna's was busy and I was squatting to lower my center of gravity and just 'cause, y'know, the fetal position is pretty hip so I wasn't gonna be waiting in line anyways. I think even in my state I managed to remain fairly hidden in my crouch, so at least the entire bar wasn't like "that dude is too drunk". Just those immediately around me, all of whom were people I think I knew. Anyways, I wound up puking just a wee bit in my mouth and y'know, then wound up helping Chris find Steven while he found Melissa. I found Steven and then puked at his house and passed out on his couch whilst the Princess Bride soothed my sorry ass. Average notwithstanding, that is I believe the second time in the past four weeks that I have done exactly this, though this time I was kinda a victim of an incredibly drunk humanitarian mission gone sorely awry.

Anyways, I actually feel great to have once again gotten that outta my system. Now to go do 6 hours of homework, which is just the sweetness.