My GAME ON

I had a jack & seven last night that was roughly the color of a jack & coke. There was also that beer. And that jim & seven. And a shot of something...??? And a jager bomb. I have not been that hammered in a long while.

I remember having a prolonged (and surprisingly civil) conversation with James about various basketball teams. I do NOT remember singing. I know I did, and I know what I sang, but I have absolutely no recollection of having sung anything at all. And then there was that guy.

OMG THEY JUST KEEP GETTING OLDER. I guessed he was 27 (strike one), 29 (strike two,) then 28 (strike three). Turns out he's a whopping 11 years my senior: 33. New PR, Jen. Well, he was really cute (or at least I definitely thought so last night), and he shares a name with Spiderman. From the flashes of conversation I remember, he was really cool. I think.

I've gotten to be rather excellent at sobering up enough to drive my ass home, but it always worries me a little when I wake up the next morning unable to recall my doing such. I should slap myself. Today, I woke up at 6 with a raging headache, so I buried my face in a mass of pillows and tried to sleep some more. I guess lying there helped, because I eventually got the urge to pee, and I felt OK when I sat up. And then I put my feet on the ground, pushed my ass off the bed, and damn near fell over. It's never happened to me before, but I was utterly incapacitated by a spell of dizziness. So I battled my way through an odd sort of hangover.

But now I'm bumming internet at Panera (SLOW AS BALLS) and loving me some breakfast (at 4 pm. Don't judge.) after a whole day of watching Friends, groaning at the sun in my eyes, and dry heaving. Productive, I know.

I think I'll text my new buddy. Partly because, according to my tweets, I seem to have really enjoyed his company, but mostly because I'm 70% sure he was a good kisser ;)