Stumbling leads to bitter generosity

So do you guys remember when I talked about Mack here, here and here? I might've told you that although I was kind of interested in Mack, that I stepped aside when Chris expressed interest...well I did that again.

I might've just hand picked/delivered the man of my dreams, to VWR. FML?

We stumbled last night. I stumbled hard. Like, bad. Like, I haven't felt this shitty in the belly since three weeks ago. And I know you're probably thinking "Oh, if hangovers are typical occurrences, then this one shouldn't be so bad." Well, you would be HALF right. My head does not hurt, but I have felt like there was a miniature lawn gnome in my stomach, trying to punch its way out since I woke up (at 8am, by the way. Even though I was supposed to be at the gym by 7:30...no biggie.)

I actually was scheduled to have my annual work review today at 10am, and I had to call in sick (late) because I was behaving like a retarded child this morning and could NOT pull my act together.

Mind you, it's Thursday. I'm going to Honey tonight, and although right now, I can't even imagine what my body will do if I try to drink alcohol...I will find out.

Anyway, back to the recap of my life since I last posted.

On Tuesday, I decided that I wanted to be somewhat social and this Meetup called Random Events, was having a free stand up comedy show. I love stand up comedy, so naturally I decided this was a good time to meet new people and laugh my ass off.

The Mexican and I took the train down to the East Village and parted ways. I had about an hour and a half to kill so I got myself a nice Taro bubble tea and finished my book. (Matched by Ally Condie if you were wondering). I wasn't feeling so social any more though, and I was tempted just to go home and watch my overflowing DVR (which I will do tomorrow because I'm taking the day off to take care of my mama). However, it was about to rain and I was already there and had been in the West Village for almost 2 hours and so I decided to go in. Everyone was crazy nice, and I immediately got myself a hard cider (because it's awkward if you're not drinking at a bar when you first meet people). I was being a social butterfly, talk talk talking away about this that and the other thing. This girl tried to hijack my conversation with this Kazakhstan (I literally just said aloud "did I really just spell that right on the first try") guy. She had a very firm handshake and kind of scared me. I held my ground though, and told the story of my badassness (Polar Bear Plunge 2009). She was awed. Yeah, bitch, relax!

He was actually the MC

We saw 5 stand up comedians and they were awesome. There was this weird lady in the audience slightly behind me that I wanted to punch in the face once or thrice because she was talking loudly to her friend and one time she yelled out something like "You don't believe in Jesus" and everyone was really confused. The MC even said "Ok, so we're going to ignore that right there..." No one understood. Pretty sure she was a religious zealot, and they all deserve a swift punch in the nose. I kind of rushed out when it was over because it was late and I wanted to get home. I didn't even stay for the picture or to exchange info with any of the people I met. Oh well, there will be another time.

Side note: My headphone jack just got messed up in my computer and so I'm hearing this OBNOXIOUS noise while I'm trying to listen to music. It's making me cry inside.

Wednesday is where things for the week really start to get interesting.

When we got to the Stumble Inn, I decided that I was going to get buzzed at least, because I had so much fun the Friday night before. So I start drinking. I rapidly take down about two hard ciders. I decide not to eat the nachos the Mexican got. Probably not really the BEST choice, but it was made. So eventually the group grows to include VWR, and about 5 other people, including our friend Tiffany. We're hanging out at the bar and I'm drinking more than I should...then this guy walks in.

He's 6'7" (found out later) and has beautiful ebony skin. Tiffany tells me I will not go talk to him, and since he is standing alone and I'm buzzed, I do. I walk over to him, ask him if he's alone or waiting for someone (he is waiting for his friend). I invite him to join our group of people. We chat, and flirt. Lots of arm touching. He's an impressive Investment Banker with a slight British accent. His friend gets there who is just as gorgeous. I want to introduce the friend to VWR, so I call her over and introduce everyone. My neck is KILLING me from looking up at the Ebony Banker. He and VWR start talking about basketball and I start talking to his friend and find out he has a girlfriend (bummer!) but he wants to play beer pong (winner!) I tell him IMMEDIATELY, that we're all going to play. He's game. I go reserve "next" on both tables. These softball guys get mad at me when they figure this out, but whatever. VWR and Ebony Banker are still being chatty chatty. I'm in my own world and pretty buzzed. I'm making buddies with everyone, and I'm carrying my pitcher around.


Fast forward, we lose three games of beer pong. I drink most of the cups. I start drinking from cups that aren't really even mine to drink, but downing them like water. At around 1:30am, VWR and I decide to leave. I'm shithoused. I leave my gym bag at the bar so we have to come back as soon as we get to the train station. VWR asks my permission to talk to Ebony Banker (they exchanged numbers and wanted to know if that was ok with me). Obviously, I say ok because I'm too generous...ALWAYS.

I was bitter for at least two days about this, because everything about this guy was fucking awesome and I totally passed him off. Now I'm not as bitter because VWR and him REALLY hit it off and they are an INCREDIBLY cute couple and probably a better fit than he and I could be. She's so excited it's cute, and it sounds like he likes her too. So I'm going to let it go. I'm also going to stop giving people away!

I had A LOT of fun though. I'm awesome when I drink and every one agrees.

On my way home, I had to transfer to the Q at Union Square. It was running on the local track so for some stupid reason, at Dekalb Avenue, I got off the train because I momentarily convinced myself it was the N and not the Q. By the time my drunk ass realized my mistake, the train had closed its doors. I was stuck at Dekalb for another half hour. I cried because it was one of the dumbest things I have ever done and I just wanted to be home in my bed. It was AWFUL.

You'll have to tune in next time for my Thursday Honey story. I promise it's a good one with lots of being felt up, and very little moral code.

Sex, blood and shame...

So remember when I told you about Bar 13, well here's the story I mentioned.

Let's rewind to New Years 2010. My friend from Chicago, T (as Mo refers to her, and thus I will too), was visiting NYC. She wasn't here to visit me, per se, but being here when she's typically elsewhere, I was obviously going to make the effort to go see her.

It was a few days after the New Year, let's say the 3rd, when I got a text from T saying where she would be with her friend (who she was staying with). I thought, hey, good idea! Let's go.

Prepare yourself for a bit of a back story that might not be completely necessary, but I'm going to tell you anyway.

I called up B, who I wanted to meet T. She was on her way to go see this girl we can call Bambu. I've known Bambu since I was 13. We had never really been close, but after I moved back from Chicago we became friends - when other people were around. We actually all rekindled our friendship at our mutual friend's mother's funeral...great excuse to get shitfaced, right? So we did. Over the next few months, we went out some. We being me, B, Bambu and our other mutual friend 'Bino.

At that point in my life I was still mostly jobless (part timing as a medical assistant doesn't really pay the bills) and also, I wasn't big on spending money on alcohol (pre-gaming will always be my first love). Bambu is wealthy. She comes from a very wealthy family, and has no problem throwing money down (or so it seemed). I didn't really drink much at the bars, but whatever, I guess I was supposed to buy everyone drinks because they were offering to buy drinks? (A lesson I learned later). Anyway, one of those nights when we were drunk, Bambu called me out for not buying drinks. She actually made me feel bad, and like a user.

Having been used for lots of things my WHOLE LIFE, I took this to heart. I boohooed, right there in the bar. I told her I never wanted anyone to think of me like that, and then I sobbingly and begrudgingly, purchased a round. I thought we were past this. I thought we had discussed why it bothered me that she said what she said and I thought she knew I wasn't trying to use her for her family's money.

Welp, I was wrong. On January 3rd, B tells me she's headed to Bambu's apartment in midtown and that I should come. I message Bambu, see if this is OK and this is the jist of what she says..."If you're coming, bring whatever you want to drink. I don't have enough alcohol for everyone and I'm not paying for everyone to drink." By everyone, she means me, because it was only going to be me, B and her and she already told B that she didn't need to bring anything. Secondly, I was planning on bringing a bottle to share with everyone, because I have no problem with that. A bottle will cost me less than $40 and will get everyone shnocked, while a round of drinks at a club will cost more and do nothing for anyone.

I was offended to say the least. I responded with something like "I thought we went through this, I'm not trying to use you for your money or alcohol. I have my own, thank you very much. And you know what, I don't want to come to your apartment anyway." And I didn't. I couldn't forgive her for that bullshit. Something about how she acted time and time again offended me more than any other person has offended me in my life before. It got to my core, and it sat there.

I tried to make amends a few weeks later at this event that 'Bino had invited us all to, but she opened with "This problem we're having seems so petty and small compared to what they're going through in Haiti." ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS? HAITI? That's what we're talking about now? I'm trying to make peace with you for the sake of our mutual friends, and you say that whatever we're having a problem over is unimportant because of Haiti. Wow. I almost shit a brick right then and there. I walked away from her, told B I tried, and never talked to her again. (By the way, the story from that night is pretty EPIC too. I'm pretty sure I was so beyond wasted I did things that I don't want to talk about with a boy whose name I'm having trouble remembering, in a neighborhood I would prefer never to go to again.)


Side note: this kind of blows because it made things a little weird for B, and it does bother me a little every time she says she's hanging out with Bambu, or that she's going to be in her wedding party, or that I haven't really hung out with 'Bino at all because they're besties. I would like to get over this and be civil. I even started telling B to give her my best wishes...etc, but I just don't know.

Back to the main story. So Bambu says this shit to me, B says she can't handle the drama and is just going home (I actually think she went to Bambu's anyway, but whatever...) So I was pissed at B, because at this point she hadn't met T, but was refusing to come out and I was pissed at Bambu, because she says stupid shit. So what did I do?

I drank. I drank a lot. I drank a lot VERY quickly.

I was fucking HAMMERED on the train. I talked to a guy about his shoelaces. We exchanged numbers. I lost the number. I was sad.

I stumbled to Bar 13, said whatever name T told me to, or someone came and got me at the door. I don't know what the hell happened, but I was in. I saw T. I was super excited. We danced. Her friend bought us drinks. I was introduced to his friend Beatles. He was beautiful, and educated. We danced more. We drank more. I was happy.

We decided to leave. Well...someone did, I don't know if I was really in the decision making mindset.

T's friend had driven. Beatles and I were in the backseat, T's friend was driving, T was in the passenger seat.

I want to say the next bit is blurry, but it's not. Beatles and I had been eating each others' faces for the past three hours, obviously there was chemistry. So in the backseat of the car, with two other people there, my dress went up, his khaki dress pants went down, and some circus act maneuvering began to take place.

He was not a small boy and I was so dehydrated what I don't know how it all worked, but it did.

T's friend drove purposely like an asshole with stopping short, making the door handle in my back all the more uncomfortable. T is a dirty freak and she definitely watched at some point, or at least was an ass and made it very clear that they were aware of what was going on in the back seat.

I rode on his lap at one point because it made more sense. Don't worry folks, the top of my dress was still on.

Wait, let me mention to you that I had been at my friend's wedding earlier in the day so I was wearing a silver dress, fit for a wedding, and probably not car sex. (I'm so classy).

So we get to T's friend's house. We get into the apartment and T said "OH MY GOD, WHAT IS THAT ALL OVER YOUR DRESS? AND WHAT'S ON YOUR PANTS?!"

Way to make an already awkward situation, more awkward.

It was not my time of the month. I was shwasted, and I was unsure of what was going on, but lo and behold, Beatles and I are covered in blood. Not just any blood, my blood. But I later found out, it was not period blood. It was blood that comes about when large things try to enter not so moisturized orifices.

I was embarrassed, and T is an asshole and was making it worse than it needed to be. I quietly took Beatles' pants, determined to work magic, and work magic I did.

Somehow I scrubbed all of the blood out of his khaki suit and out of my silver dress. Everything was hung up to dry in the bathroom. I had sobered up for a cool 15 minutes.

This did not last.

I don't know what made us decide to continue doing what we were doing, but we had a lot more sex that night. A LOT. We moved the whole couch 8 feet across the living room, into the wall. Did it this way and that. I had stopped bleeding mind you. Well, for the time being. We woke up the next morning having rearranged the living room.

Everyone awkwardly watched sportscenter together before Beatles walked me to the car - it was his car.

My heart SANK when we go to the car. I had lost my glove the night before right next to the car, so at least I had that back (unlike my dignity), but the backseat of his car looked like a crime scene. There was literally blood everywhere.

His suit was still damp and he was freezing. He had to cover the backseat of his car with newspaper so he could take it to the shop to be cleaned and so people wouldn't think he had committed murder.

He drove me to the train station, the last stop on the 2 train. It was an almost silent ride. I offered him money for the cleaning. He didn't accept.

That was the last time I saw Beatles. I got to think about him on the shameful 2 hour, midday Sunday subway ride back to my house.

Sex, blood and shame...

"It could be lifethreatening..."

"But then again, all surgeries are."

That's just not what you say to people whose loved ones are in recovery. At least, that's not what you say to my dad. He remained calm, but definitely held onto that phrase and repeated it back to me as we discussed my mother's prognosis.

I tend to pretend that people aren't sick. I pretend that I'm not sick, when I clearly am. I pretend that my dad, even though he had all of the symptoms of the beginning Guillane-Barre syndrome after getting the flu shot last year, was fine and that his dozen trips to Neurologists were normal. I pretend that excruciating abdominal pain doesn't exist, even if I want to break out into tears randomly from pain. I pretend that I don't need 25 stitches when I slip and fall on the sidewalk and tear open my knee. I pretend that having a bowel obstruction is perfectly normal and that my mother's surgery last year was a success and routine. I pretend that everything is going to be ok, because it is. I pretend that life is fair, because it has to be.

I pretend.

Why do I pretend? Because I cannot, and will not, imagine my life without either of my parents. I refuse to believe that either of them will not be there for my wedding, for the birth of my first child (and however many I have after that). I refuse to believe that my parents won't see me become everything they've ever expected of me and wanted for me. I refuse to believe that they will not be there when my children learn to swim, or graduate from high school. I refuse to believe that my life as I know it could all be over in a split second. I refuse to have my chest tighten and tears flow from my eyes just from thinking about these impossibilities.

I refuse.

So as I pretend that my mother is perfectly healthy and this is just a minor bump in the road, and I refuse to believe that there is any way this can get worse, I hope that pretending and refusals can fabricate the reality that I need to exist.

She is fine. She will be fine. I love her too much for her not to be. I need her too much for her not to be.

The ending of an era...

Or Restaurant Week, Summer 2011

Yet again, this post is for Maxwell.

I actually plan on posting something quite a bit more serious later because I've been feeling...well let's just hold off on the "feelings" until later. As for right now, I'm starving and wanted to throw a little more food porn out there.

As I might've mentioned before, it was incredibly hot this weekend. In fact, NYC got graced with one hell of a heat wave, but I refused to let this heat interfere with my lunch. After futzing with my hours at work, I decided that I could go for a two hour lunch on Friday with the Mexican. I had wanted to go to this place on Tuesday, but it was too late in the evening, packed, and I wasn't dressed classy enough. Again, Bermuda shorts cannot be considered formal here in this country (which is a crying shame!).

I made reservations to go to the Post House at 3:30pm (because they told me any later, and it wouldn't be considered lunch). I left work and walked through 115 degree heat and humidity the 15 or so blocks to the restaurant. I was actually not doing too horribly. Breathing was a little tough, but I was determined to survive...and east steak. I knew exactly what I wanted when I got there.

God I don't like this kid.

The Mexican showed up a few minutes after me, and he looked like he was going to die. Even though we had a conversation about this place being classy, he wore a tshirt because he was getting a hair cute (side note: he was rocking the Bieber that morning because he didn't have any product in his hair. It was one of the funniest, most heinous things I have seen in a while. We also got into a fight over the pictures that were taken on whatever that Mac photo program is because there were two pictures that he randomly took where I looked like a horrific mess and he wouldn't delete them. I laughed so hard I cried as I literally wrestled him for control of the mouse to try and delete these pictures. The pictures got deleted, but not before I looked retarded because I have NO IDEA how to work Macs anymore. I totally forgot about dragging stuff to the trash. Seriously, half hour of my life wasted - but I digress.) Anyway, he kept repeating that they weren't going to let him into the classy establishment, but I went in first and they were taking us to our table before they noticed what he was wearing.

The waiter was kind of a dick at first. I think they all kind of are when you go to places like that and don't order booze. Honestly, if he had been nicer, I might've been convinced to get a glass of outrageously overpriced wine, but fuck that. I will not give myself a reason to bump up his tip when he's being an ass. Fail!

The Mexican and I ordered almost the same thing. In all honesty, I think next Restaurant Week I want to go with more people who want to try different things on the menu so that we can taste more things. However, the main course was so amazing, that we're planning on doing monthly lunches there to have another portion.

So here's the meal Maxwell. Eat your heart out.

Steamed cockles and pea shoots in this AMAZING garlicky sauce that we sopped up with delicious bread

Filet Mignon with Pomme Puree

Perfectly on the rare side of medium rare

Fruit Crisp with homemade vanilla bean ice cream

The Mexican overwhelmed by his THREE scoops of homemade raspberry sorbet. We were upset they didn't give him the option of having one scoop of all three of the sorbet options - next time

Continuing with the food theme. Last night I went out to meet the Mexican in Astoria (where he lives) to eat at the place that we've dubbed "ours" because we stumbled upon it one night and it was magnificent.

We shared this amazing roasted beet, arugula, candied walnut and goat cheese salad (which we got last time), these crab cakes that didn't taste greasy AT ALL and were flaky, moist and wonderful. We then shared a rack of lamb. Two pieces for each of us, over a tzatiki sauce with roasted potatoes and some of the best string beans I've had in my life.

I have now sufficiently made myself very hungry.

Let me quickly tell you about my Friday night though.

So backtracking to just after the Post House for amazing lunch, I convinced the Mexican to walk back to the office. We were there for almost 45 minutes before we met up with some coworkers before heading to the Stumble Inn for one of their going away parties. At first I wasn't drinking because I didn't know how much longer I would be staying and because it was so incredibly hot outside it was gross. I finally got a drink around 6:45pm and the Mexican left just before 7:30. This made me sad panda, but I decided to stick around. 

One of my future fellows bought us shots, as did another of my coworkers. I bought two pitchers of hard cider, so I always had a cup full and was ready to play pong (technically beirut, because there are no paddles). Anyway, I started getting way more social (as is what happens when I drink alcoholic beverages). My future fellow and I were exchanging information that we shouldn't have been talking about, and we were shit talking some people and random stuff.

Liquid courage took over and we signed up for pong. I was not nice to the shorter guy that we played against. I kept telling the taller one that I liked him and that the little one was mean. We lost and then they lost to this guy who was playing by himself. BIG OL' DOUCHENOZZLE. He wanted to put money on the game and one of the people who was with our group, my new partner, agreed. I think it's an advantage to be playing by yourself. We lost, obviously.

I returned to the table that we had sniper-ed out from under other patrons. I went towards the bathroom and was stopped by these two gentleman. One was about my height, maybe a little taller, with STUNNING blue eyes and basically the all around cocky asshole vibe. (This was shortly thereafter confirmed). The other was a very tall blond boy with very thin lips and not a smile to be found. He kind of looked like the shorter one's midwestern (confirmed as well) bodyguard, but he was slim and not very menacing. More creepy. I made him laugh later in the evening though. Aww Montana boys.

The short one (the only real talker), told me that he wanted to play my partner and I in pong. I said sure, and I called him an Aussie, because that's what his accent sounded like from the first sentence. Slightly offended, because I bruised his BRITISH ego, he continued on with the conversation saying something or other that I wasn't listening to. Something happened and I told him he should buy me a shot. He offered me a shot and I said vodka, and he said he was only offering a tequila shot, and I walked away.

I'm so cool when I drink it's not even funny. At this point I had already told Feather to meet me at the bar, so she showed up. We were drinking more and I spoke to the Brit and the tall one again, but I think some girl got pissed at me because she wanted a piece of the Brit. I chuckled and let her have at it.

We lost another game of pong and then Feather and I left.

It was so hot outside. I don't remember the train at all. Getting there (oh wait, I might remember waiting for the 6 train) but I don't have memory again until we got off the train and were in Union Square trying to figure out where to go.

We decided on Bar 13, (I've only been there once before and just wait until I tell you the story. keywords, blood, sex, booze, car, crime scene, voyeurism, AWKWARD) and after trying to sneak our way in, I paid the $20 for Feather and I to go in because I was drunk and thought we would find refuge from the heat inside (WRONG)

We made our way to the back of the club and were dancing, but it was so hot and my bag was sticking to my skin. It was still fun though, but drunken KG doesn't know how to stay out of issues that aren't hers. So some girl wasn't getting out of this guy's VIP section that we were basically standing in, and had security come over. They got into a fight and she must've swung at him, because next thing I know he's choking her out and smacking a bitch up. I was trying to pull him off (mind you, he's at least 6'5", 250 and has a hard cast on his wrist - like the type that could kill someone). He flips out and tells me to get off of him, Feather pulls me off because it's none of my business and they escort the lady out. I honestly just didn't want the security guy to get in trouble because he could've fucked this girl up and she could've probably pressed charges. I talked to the security guy later and explained what I was doing. He said he could take care of himself. OKEY DOKEY BIG MAN.

We made friends with the bouncers and then we skeedaddled. It was too fucking hot and some guy spilt his drink all down my back. It was TIME TO GO.

We went to the train and parted ways. I almost vomited/passed out in the train station from being so hot and drunk and having no water (actually I did have water but I didn't drink any) and the train took forever.

I ended up at home safe and sound though, and didn't leave my house until Sunday.

Stay tuned for feelings...and Bar 13 memory.

I'm melting...

And no this isn't a reference to the wicked witch of the west, which I might very well be. (although I'm on the east, but there's no house on top of me and I don't think I've ever "brought down the house" either. I think you need to know how to play an instrument for this...but I digress.)

Anyway, I'm melting because "God" has decided to SMITE New York City (and perhaps the rest of the north east). We are being punished. There is no better reason for this god forsaken heat wave then just that (global warming didn't make the reasonable explanation cut). 

According to weather.com (or as the Mexican calls it "liesabouttheweather.com"), it is currently 95 degrees and feels like 106. No big deal. It's 11am. Not a problem that it is so sweltering (humidity included) that you can literally cook an egg on the sidewalk (and I might try later). If I wanted to sweat this badly and be this miserable in the heat, at the very least I could be on a tropical island (Jamaica?)

CURRENTLY....DYING.

I had to walk 4 blocks or so this morning and in that time, I saw a half dozen people on the verge of death. I'm not a big sweater (not even one of gramma's old jumpers - although I never saw my gma wear many sweaters) but I have a tendency to use anti-perspirant EVERYWHERE. I would probably bathe in it if I could, coat myself in a fine layer of anti-sweat. Unfortunately, my masseuse wiped off my lower back deodorant this morning during my massage, so now I feel like my back is going to ooze sweat out of all of its pores and make me uncomfortable, sticky and all around gross. I've seen a bunch of heinous looking wetbacks today and yesterday (pun intended).

Usually, Fridays would be the day where I update about my miserable hangover and the fun I had at Honey, but everyone refused to go because of the heat.

So what did I do? I went to David Burke's Townhouse. I thought about going to this place across the street, but they didn't use OpenTable for Reservations, and I didn't feel like calling on the phone.

At DB, they have a prix fixe menu. Unfortunately, the things that I saw on the restaurant week menu were on the "dinner" prix fix menu, costing me $37 as opposed to $24.07. I wrestled with the idea of going with some other meal than the one I had planned in my head, but I had heard rave reviews about this crab cake, so I figured, go an inch go a mile and I ordered off the more expensive menu. I was not disappointed, but I might still be full from the meal. It was definitely not a hot summer day meal, but that's when I had it.

Oh and for Maxwell's viewing pleasure (and maybe the rest of you too), I took pictures.

This is how the butter came, in a twirl on a block of pink salt and a few pink salt sprinkles. The bread was hot and crispy and divine.

Pretzel encrusted crab cake with tomato orange chutney and poppy seed honey - I cut it open to show the inside, but you can't really see it.

Braised short rib over handmade cavatelli with wild mushrooms and truffle cream sauce and mushroom chips. SO heavy, but amazing and I didn't even have to use my knife for the short rib

One of the best chocolate mousses I've EVER had, and those big balls are sour cherries and the little ones are little nestle crunch balls. I was so full and yet I stuffed it in anyway.

After indulging, I went home and I laid in bed and watched TV for the rest of the night until I passed out just before 11pm in my air conditioned heaven. My mom is still in the hospital and supposed to get an exploratory surgery today. Hope it goes well!

I'm going to my last restaurant week restaurant later today with the Mexican. We're going to have Filet Mignon and I'm sure it will be phenomenal. We also have a going away party at a bar later today, and we might end up sweating to death with all of the walking that we will supposedly be doing. It's going to be rough.

Oh, on a side note - I'm a very regular person. Pretty much everything in my life is routine and predictable, but I'm currently late, and this freaks me out. Stay tuned.  

UPDATE: NOT PREG!

Get FIT (Food, Injuries and Traveling)

My favorite store called me yesterday to say I had a $40 coupon to use before next Wednesday, so what did I do? I went shopping after work. I bought 5 shirts that I didn't need for a grand total of $49, which is typically what some of their shirts cost by themselves. I'm pretty excited about this. I also might be returning one of the shirts because I realized when I got home that I already have that shirt - it was the only full price item that I bought (so basically I will have spent $10 on 4 quality shirts - that I might not need, but love anyway). 

After treating myself to my shopping indulgence, the night just got better. 

I'm pretty sure by this point you have deduced that I love food. I've really been trying to eat as much delicious food as I can in the past two weeks. Yesterday was no different. Not only did I take myself to classy lunch, but I also went to classy dinner (this next section is for you Maxwell)

Some of the foods that I crave, not all the time, but often, are grilled octopus, red meat cooked on the rare side of medium rare, and rice pudding (usually with a touch of cardamom). So, when perusing the restaurant week menus of the places on the Upper East Side by my job, I was pleasantly surprised to see Persephone on the list. It's a restaurant I knew nothing about, but walked past 2-3 times a week on my way to the train from my gym. Guess what was on their menu.

Yup, my perfect craving indulging meal. After trying to go to two other restaurants in the area and realizing they were way too classy for my bermuda shorts and no reservation, I found myself at Persephone, and I was not disappointed AT ALL. The maitre'd was wonderful. I wanted to have a quick meal, and it worked out perfectly because she said she could seat me, but the table had a prior reservation in an hour. NO problem. I could get out of there in less than an hour and not feel like I was eating too fast to be classy - because they needed the table. It was like the planets aligned.

They had wonderful EVOO on the table for me to eat my delicious crusty bread with before starting my meal. They had a special of suckling pig, that had it not been restaurant week, I would've jumped all over. However, my intense craving for red meat helped me to stick with the prix fixe and I was not disappointed.

The grilled octopus was probably the best I've ever had. It was the perfect texture, soft with a little bit of tension but not chewy. My teeth just cut through it, not quite like butter - but maybe a well refrigerator stick of butter (although I've never done this before). The citrusy sauce was perfect and yet still creamy and smooth. The suction cups added texture because they were a little crispier from the grill. I was in HEAVEN.

I wish this picture could better convey the delicousness

For the main meal I was a little worried, because as some know, skirt steak can be a little touch and go. Typically found more in Mexican food, it is often overcooked and I definitely prefer rare to well done. When it came, the israeli couscous made me happy and made me think of my mom. the spring vegetables were chunked, cooked but not mushy, they still had a crisp to them. I love texture! So the couscous was soft and the vegetables added crunch. I was pleased and then I tried the skirt steak. They had actually rolled different pieces of steak and so I got to unroll them and see how perfectly purple/pink they were on the inside. It was brilliant. Add some grilled onion and a delicious sauce and life couldn't get better. I couldn't get a good picture because the restaurant had romantic low lighting and it didn't feel right to have my flash go off, but trust me, it looked simply divine.

Please note that those are indeed yellow grape tomatoes - one of my weaknesses

I was stuffed, but my rice pudding came anyway and it was another textural revelation. The rice was not overcooked and mushy, and still provided some sustenance while the pudding was creamy and perfect.

It was an incredible meal to end the night.

I got home and I talked to my dad for a cool 20 minutes, which always makes me happy. I love talking to him and I think that it's a good thing that I provide him with someone who understands how crazy my mother can be. In fact, at one point I felt a tiny twinge in my heart for him because he's almost at his wits end with her. I feel like this happens every summer, and then it's magnified by the fact that she's not been feeling well (I will touch on shortly).

I'm very much like her, or maybe she's very much like me. When she gets bored and doesn't feel useful, she turns into a crazy bitch. Not that she isn't that way a lot of the time, but as a teacher, when she has off during the summer, she has all of these grandiose plans but ends up spending all of her time watching tv on the couch. This makes her feel like shit, and in turn, she makes my dad and I feel the same way.

My dad never had to take solo car rides with her much before. I was usually the buffer, and not that I provide any real kind of buffering, but my mom would rather direct her anger towards me than my dad. Also, I sometimes provide her with a reason for this. Anyway, they've been driving together a lot more lately and he finally understands what I went through for 12 years being trapped in a moving vehicle with her every morning for at least 20 minutes. I told him how I used to look out the window as we drove through the park for the perfect patch of grass to jump out of the moving car onto, so as to hurt myself the least. More than a half dozen times in high school I opened the door of the moving car to fling myself out. He FINALLY understands, and I'm glad I can be there to commiserate with him. He's such a nice guy, I hope my mom doesn't fuck it up. Anyway...

I think my dad is going to get a dog soon - probably hypoallergenic - so that my mom can have something to entertain her that loves her and doesn't yell back and he can have a retreat. I think it would be cute to see him biking with the dog running alongside.


There's one problem with this though. We tend to end up with pets with shit health, and in the past year or so, collectively with my parents, we have been in the hospital 2-3 times a piece at minimum. I've been three times (ER twice - I took this guy I knew there once during the christmas snowstorm just a week after I busted my knee), I believe that today is my mother's second stay, but her first one was way longer (both admitted through the ER). My dad had one hospital STAY, but he was there at least a half dozen other times for tests and when he popped his calf muscle. Pretty much, this past year has not been good for us, but has been great for the hospital business! I blame working at a hospital.

In 2008-2009, I was in the hospital once, my mother once and my dog about a half dozen times.

Basically we're tired of hospitals, pet or otherwise - thus a new animal with unforeseen issues might be tough. And as I mentioned before, my parents are at the hospital right now. My mom's stomach is not doing so hot. I'll update you later on why that is, other than the fact that she's an idiot that can't take care of herself and after being fat for so long, she kind of takes pride in not being able to eat very much (even if it's not healthy).

While my parents are in the hospital, I was enjoying a nice sushi lunch of sashimi salad (with tuna, white tuna, salmon, mango and kiwis), a white tuna roll, a shrimp tempura roll and some green tea ice cream with my favorite Mexican.

I inadvertently touched this girl's butt on the train this morning because it was so packed and immediately I started hearing the typical train announcement in my head talking about a packed train is still no excuse to touch people inappropriately. The Mexican told me a story about a gafasian (guh-fay-zhun) on the train this morning. Basically a gay fat asian guy with frosted "highlights" and a too tight shirt literally stood 3 inches from the Mexican on the train and their bellies touched. The Mexican wanted him to and I quote "trip when they got off the train and get AIDS and then fall into the tracks". He was not pleased. I laughed hysterically and considering we had both inhaled our lunches, my stomach hurt.

I have a meeting in less than a half hour and I plan on spending the rest of the afternoon on the phone with ITS, again. Gotta love it, eh?

Lastly, I hate planning vacations. Something's always a mess. I'm a little sad because I could've gone to Philly to see T with B the first weekend in August, because B's plans got canceled (and she never has a free weekend), but I already told Ni that I would go with her to this "crab fest" thing in Gettysburg, PA (WHICH I DID NOT REALIZE WAS A 5 HOUR BUS RIDE EACH DIRECTION) and I already paid for it - so it doesn't make sense to bail. I need to suck it up, but planning an alternate trip to Philly is going to be tough.

I was talking to Mo about going on a road trip to the south this fall, but we figured September would be best - and part of the originally road trip was for me to get to Chicago via Detroit to see B, but B won't be there until October.

Basically, we're postponing said roadtrip and planning a two week European extravaganza - stay tuned.

Did I mention that I hate planning vacations? Honestly, I'd rather someone just tell me when and where and then I just have to book the tickets. All of this searching for the best price shit is terrible. I also have to somehow tell my bosses I'm planning on taking off a lot of time this fall. With my impending surgery and vacations, I don't know how I'm going to manage to get a paycheck. I just want to take September off.

I'm also supposed to go to Texas with B and her family over Thanksgiving, but now I don't even know if she's going.

I realize I only have middle class problems and I should stop complaining, but WHATEVER.

P.S. I promise to be funnier in the future. I realize when I RANT, I'm hilarious. When I talk about my day - not so much.

I normally don't post twice in a day, but...

I went to lunch again today for what I thought would be another restaurant week meal. I ended up getting in an argument with the manager because the website lied. They had a prix fixe menu, but they didn't have the food I actually really wanted. I stayed anyway though, because I couldn't make any other choices. I ended up with a carpaccio salad situation, some goat cheese ravioli and tiramisu. Everyone was great, except for that damn manager.

The reason I really am posting though is because my best friend is being relocated to Detroit in October. I'm pretty much pissed. It was bad enough with her in Baltimore for 6 months, but DETROIT? At least it's within driving distance of Chicago I suppose. So much for having a future roommate if I ever decide to move out of my parent's house.

I'm pretty bummed.

At least I have until October...

I would do Ten on Tuesday - but I don't have much to say about the zoo

Last week I did the Ten on Tuesday posted by Kyria from here. Normally I would do it again this week, but it's all about the zoo, and seeing as how I haven't been there in years. I'm going to do something I stole from here, because I have nothing better to do.

1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, and find line 4.
The only "book" near me that has page number is a hand manual. "independently."

2. Stretch your left arm out as far as you can, What can you touch?
The hand manual I just put down. Water bottle, notebook, cell phone, headphones, a few post its, desk calendar, drawers next to me, USB phone charger, space heater, garbage can, purse, file cabinet, hole punch...that covers it unless I lean forward or something

3. Before you started this survey, what were you doing?
Trying to figure out something to do.

4. What is the last thing you watched on TV?
I fell asleep watching TV last night...what was I watching..Oh yeah, The Big C

5. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
Marlon Asher - Ganja Farmer (coming from my Pandora One), my boss typing, the divisional administrator talking.

6. When did you last step outside? What were you doing?
This morning on my way to work.

7. Do you remember your dreams?
Rarely, and not for very long.

8. When did you last laugh?
Earlier today at Maxwell's blog

9. What is on the walls of the room you are in?

Oh God, lots of stuff. It's an office. In my particular area there's a cork board with schedules and some other paperwork and a postit that says "she is not close" from when I spent 14 hours at work waiting for a grant to be done. Some business cards. A post it from a friend that says "Karen - Today, on this 3rd day of Hannukah, I leave you three dum-dums. Yours in Noshing, Anne and Hannukah Armidillo (AKA, Mario)" - yes Armadillo was spelt wrong, but I love them anyway. I also have pictures of my fellows at graduation from the past two years, a birth announcement card, three thank you cards, a post card for The Possibility Project, a phone directory, a calendar and some appointment paperwork information.

10. Seen anything weird lately?

I live in NYC. I see weird things EVERY day. I will try to think of something.

11. What is the last film you saw?
Mr. Popper's Penguins. I love streaming movies. I was watching the Green Hornet, but I fell asleep

12. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live?
Not quite sure. I loved Chicago, somewhere metropolitan, that's for sure.

13. If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy?
My parent's house. I would probably buy a plane and make some investments too. Or buy property on a tropical island or some other form of traveling thing.

14. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?

There are too many things. Probably the education system - I don't know how though.

15. Do you like to dance?
When I drink.

16. Would you ever consider living abroad?
Absolutely.

17. Does your name make any interesting anagrams?
One that makes sense? No.

18. Who made the last incoming call on your phone?
My chiropractor's secretary to schedule my massage for Friday

19. What is the last thing you downloaded onto your computer?
Syberia II I think? Unless you mean pictures from facebook.

20. Last time you swam in a pool?
I've swam in the ocean more recently than swimming in a pool.

21. Type of music you like most?

I like too many genres to choose a "most"

22. Type of music you dislike most?
Metal, screamo, electronica.

23. Are you listening to music right now?
Yes I am. Reggae/soca/dancehall has mostly been playing. Give it to her - Tanto Metro & Devonte is playing right now. Now it's Crazy For You - Adele

24. What color is your bedroom carpet?
I have hardwood floors.

25. If you could change something about your home, without worry about expense or mess, what would you do?
Since the roof is currently being redone on my house - I would prefer to pay for this for my parents. If not, I would redo the whole basement and actually make it usable. That's my dream!

26. What was the last thing you bought?
Tabouleh, Triscuits, Toothpaste and a Toothbrush. Didn't even realize they were all T's

27. Have you ever ridden on a motorbike?
Nope.

28. Would you go bungee jumping or sky diving?
In a heartbeat.

29. Do you have a garden?
Yes, and my mother is obsessed. Actually, I can't say it's mine, but it's definitely there.

30. Do you really know all the words to your national anthem?
I do.

31. What is the first thing you think of when you wake up in the morning?
Why?! Do I really have to get up?

32. If you could eat lunch with one famous person, who would it be?
Don't really care.

33. Who sent the last text message you received?
This guy Teddy. I don't really know if I actually want to continue talking to him, but oh well. I'm bored.

34. Which store would you choose to max out your credit card?
I would never choose to max out my credit card.

35. What time is bed time? 

Whenever I fall asleep.

36. Have you ever been in a beauty pageant?
Nope.

37. How many tattoos do you have?
None, yet.

38. If you don't have any, have you ever thought of getting one?
I will probably get one next year. I've been sitting on an idea for a while now and I still like it a lot.

39. What did you do for your last birthday?
I don't remember. I think I celebrated my friend's birthday instead.

40. Do you carry a donor card?
My driver's license says I'm a donor. I also carry a blood donor card.

41. Who was the last person you ate dinner with?
My best friend's family at City Island.

42. Is the glass half empty or half full?
Currently, it's a little more than halfway full.

43. What's the farthest-away place you've been?
Distance wise? Somewhere in Europe I suppose.

44. When's the last time you ate a homegrown tomato?
A few weeks ago.

45. Have you ever won a trophy?
Bowling trophies, and lots of them.

46. Are you a good cook?
Yeah, I am. I'm going to start trying to make new things soon though. I need a hobby and this sounds like a good one.

47. Do you know how to pump your own gas?
Duh. Even though I yell at my dad for never filling up the tank. In fact, I was so happy the other day when I got in my car and the tank was full that I decided to take her for a wash!

48. If you could meet any one person (from history or currently alive), who would it be?
I would really like to spend some time with my maternal grandparents. They both died when I was 1.

49. Have you ever had to wear a uniform to school?
Nope.

50. Do you touch-type?
Always.

51. What's under your bed?
A trifold mirror that I've been procrastinating putting up for almost two years. A box with all sorts of memorable stuff that I don't need in sight.

52. Do you believe in love at first sight?
I believe in chemistry, so in a way, yes.

53. Think fast, what do you like right now?
I like a lot of things. Grape tomatoes.

54. Where were you on Valentine's day?
This year? At work I think? Last year, Jamaica.

55. What time do you get up?
6am.

56. What was the name of your first pet?
Buzby.

57. Who is the second to last person to call you?
Moemoe. Who then didn't respond to my call back.

58. Is there anything going on this weekend?
I'm sure there is. Am I doing anything? That has yet to be determined.

59. How are you feeling right now?
Bored and gassy.

60. What do you think about the most?
Food. Friends.

61. If you had A Big Win in the Lottery, how long would you wait to tell people?
I would tell my best friend immediately, and parents.

62. Who would you tell first?
See above.

63. What is the last movie that you saw at the cinema?
Yikes, I don't know but I'm pretty sure it was with Dominicatian. Maybe Bridesmaids?

64. Do you sing in the shower?
When a good song is on the radio.

65. What do you do most when you are bored?
Read blogs, watch tv.

66. What do you do for a living?
Medical Fellowship Coordinator. KAPOW.

67. Do you love your job?
Love is...a bit extreme.

68. What did you want to be when you grew up?
A neurosurgeon.

69. If you could have any job, what would you want to do/be?
If I knew that, I would be working towards it and not blogging all day.

70. Where would you retire to?
Wherever I think home would be.

71. What are your best physical features?
Eyes, lips, hair.

72. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation where would you go?
Anywhere with all of my friends. I really miss Jamaica, it's becoming painful.

73. What kind of books do you like to read?
Sci-fi, fantasy, regular novels. I'm reading Water for Elephants right now.

74. What is your favourite time of the day?
It depends on the day.

75. How far away from your birthplace do you live now?
Maybe a mile! If we're talking cities, I'm currently in the city in which I was born.

76. What are you reading now?
See 73.

77. Are you a morning person or a night owl?
Both. I've become more of a morning person lately, after the first half hour.

78. Can you touch your nose with your tongue?
Yes.

79. Can you close your eyes and raise your eyebrows?
Yes, and I just tried it.

80. Do you have pets?
Not currently.

81. How many rings before you answer the phone?
Depends who it is and how fast I can get it out of my pocket.

Sure, smack my butt. Don't worry, I won't wake up.

When I decided that drinking when I have work the next day is a good idea, I don't know...but, it's not (a good idea).

Yesterday, I went to the Bronx to meet up with B at City Island. Her family was all there after having gone to church. I'm not sure how often this happens, but not that often. Considering I hadn't left the house on Saturday, I figured seafood was probably the best reason to go out there.

So I got there with a tiny bit of traffic. Had broiled snow crab legs, 6 clams and 6 oysters. It was pretty much phenomenal and I looked like a savage as I ate them.

We hung around taking pictures after that. I didn't get the ones I took off of my camera yet, so those may come later (or I'm a genius and I totally brought my camera to work with me!)

I love them all!

 Anyway, afterward we went to Orchard Beach to catch the second half of this basketball game. I had a bottle of vodka in my trunk and we thought it would be a good idea to drink. So we spent 15 minutes on line getting a huge cup of ice tea to mix the vodka into. Basically, the game was over when we got to the actually basketball court. At least it was close to over. Sister was going to drive my car so I could continue to drink, but B and Sis got into a tiny tiff and because I wasn't feeling the booze at all, I felt good to drive. We drove back to B's block and decided that we were going to be pretty much "hood" and bring folding/lounge chairs outside and just go sit on the side walk, listen to music and drink more. We went down the block from her house and sat near my car. It was actually a ton of fun.


This guy I used to mess around with who happens to be one of B's best friends (BBFF) decided to come over since he's been MIA for a while. I actually made a bet with another of B's friends that we would never hook up again, and I don't plan on losing my $20. Not that our trysts weren't good, in fact, he was one of the better ones, but his attitude and mine DO NOT MESH. Ever. He seemed taken aback that I would think we would never hook up again. We won't. I'll see to it.

Once BBFF got there, we decided to all sit in my car because he didn't have a seat, and because we moved on to drinking coronas, and you can't just do that on the sidewalk. Drinking out of a beer bottle is not the same as drinking out of a big gulp pepsi cup.

We hung out there for a while and then around 1am we went back to B's apartment. I changed into the PJ's I leave at her house. BBFF tried to feel me up. I put the kibosh on that. Then I laid down, and promptly passed out.

While I was asleep, they made burgers (which I didn't have any of - sad face) and apparently BBFF was smacking my ass and I didn't wake up. I only have a faint memory of him leaving.

At 3am, I must've felt energized or something because I decided to go home. In order to avoid driving in traffic today (Monday), I was going to drive home at 3am on Sunday. I tried to wake up B to tell her to lock the door behind me, but she pretty much ignored me. I was home by 3:30am. Best driving decision ever.

Woke up this morning dehydrated, feeling like my blood was pure vodka and probably exuding it from my pores. Oh well. I made it to the chiropractor and am now at work. I was in my own personal hell about an hour ago because I was on a conference call with ITS from the College and the Hospital. It was agonizing and my IT problem is still not solved, and they don't even know where to begin.

Stupid!

Rewinding a bit, Friday, I decided to leave work early to check out another Restaurant Week place for lunch.

Watermelon salad with watercress, goat cheese and champagne vinaigrette - I sat outside which is why the picture is not great, it was hot and sunny.

Softshell crab hoagie with chipotle mayo and slaw with home made salt and vinegar chips

Creme Brulee tart with peach and blueberry compote and summer peach sorbet

I went home and get a pedicure and was convinced, although I was exhausted, to meet up with VWR and Golda for drinks. I met them in the East Village and we ended up going to three different places which pretty much sucked. I learned, however, that I no longer hate beer as I had once originally thought. I did chug two mugs at Off the Wagon (one of the Stumble Inn's counterparts). We also caught the end of this show thing and the environment was totally not my style. I'm just not a hippie. There was this girl whose voice was...interested, and she talked a mile a minute. VWR and I decided to leave early from that place and try and go meet up with the Mexican. That didn't work out so well, so we both just went home around 1am, and I was really ok with that.

Lastly, B is going to Detroit tomorrow because of her job. I really hope they don't relocate her there. I'm sure sure what I would do with myself if she left. It makes me nervous.

Yes, I steal tables.

It's time for another episode of Thursday night debauchery recap.

First off, let me start by saying that yesterday was gorgeous. Pretty much perfect weather, if not a little cool. DRASTICALLY different from last week's episode of Thursday night debauchery. It was so hot last week that I melted as I sat outside. I even put my hair up temporarily because it was stifling.

After getting my nails done with The Mexican and VWR, I went to Honey. B and I were supposed to meet at 7:15 or so. She asked me to get her a shirt on my way because she was wearing her work shirt and forgot a change of shirt, yet again.

I picked up a shirt for her in Union Square and then started walking down to Honey, slowly because she wasn't responding to my messages. I got there just after 7:15 and had a message from B saying she was around the corner.

I chatted with the doorman for a little while - my best buddy - and noticed that there were no seats outside. I scolded Doorman for not reserving us a table, because he knew that we would be coming. It was a joke, but in all honesty, he should've. I will be calling Maitre'D in the future to do just that. I got his number later on in the night. They really do love us there.

The reason I mention the table situation is that there were these two women sitting at one of the tables while I was waiting for B and talking to Doorman. They got up and I was on it. I asked them if they were coming back and the girl mumbled something about "possibly coming back" and when I said "what?" to clarify, she walked away. I took the table.

I sat there for almost 15 minutes before the girl came back and was like "This was our table, we just went to get a hookah." Excuse me for a second here miss. Your whole party got up, and took your drinks with you. You disappeared for 15 minutes, and when I said "what" because I didn't hear you, you chose to ignore me. Basically, I'm going to ignore you now. I sat there, and she eventually skittered away. She tried to tell Maitre'D and he looked outside, saw me, and essentially shut her down. Bye bitch!

B FINALLY showed up at 8pm. I wanted to kill her at that point because I had been waiting so long, and I hadn't had a drink yet because I couldn't get up from the table to go to the bar and the waitress was THE WORST. I had been there over an hour before I had to get the bus boy to get the waitress. I ordered 4 Watermelon Martinis for B and 4 Cosmos for me. The girls next to me laughed and I told them that there was a reason I was ordering in bulk. Happy hour was almost over. They weren't really laughing at me, but they definitely thought I was nuts...until the waitress didn't come back for almost a half hour and they had to go to the bar to pay their bill and get other drinks.

The waitress came back about two minutes after I gave her my order to write down what I wanted. She said "You said 4 strawberry margaritas, right?" Um, no. I don't know who the hell she was listening to when she got THAT order, but definitely not me. I spoke super slowly after that to make sure she got the order right. It took about a half hour to get the drinks, and this was with prompting from the Maitre'D again. We started drinking rapidly.

Our first order

By 8:45 we were each breaking into our second drink. We decided we were going to order another round at the bar. We found the Floor Manager, who I adore, and she was working the bar. I ordered the 8 more drinks with her and asked her if she could just add them to my tab and send them outside. She agreed. I feel bad for her, because she was SWAMPED.

It was packed there that night, so it took another 15+ minutes to get our next round. This worked out because we were almost done with the first round when it finally came.

However, the owner was there that night. He is an ass (we discovered) and they had to close the window wall to the inside because of noise complaints, which was fine. But also, he said we all had to clear out of the outside area. I guess he got fined $10,000 last week or something because of people outside. Probably because of the fight and the police and all that jazz. Doorman convinced him to let us stay another half hour to drink the drinks that had JUST been delivered to us. We were the only ones allowed to stay outside.

B finished her drinks and I got down to my last 1.5 before we were forced inside. That's fine though. It was time to dance anyway. We got the bill and the only thing that was on it were our first 8 drinks, at $5 a pop. God I love Floor Manager.

Oh yeah, at one point I went to go use the facilities and saw my bestie, Senegal (who later "yelled" at me for calling him that because I didn't know his name. He called me Melissa until I learned his name. Ironically, it's the same as mine, except pronounced COMPLETELY differently.) I made him let me use the men's room because I refused to wait. He just shook his head at me as I took the paper towel from him to scrub stuff with before I squatted anyway. I used the men's room twice that night. On my way downstairs to the restroom though, I ran into Floor Manager and asked her if there was anywhere I could put my bag. She took the whole thing and put it in the back room so I didn't have to worry about it. It was THE BEST!

B and I were pretty much wasted. I actually left to go get a slice of Pizza and I came back. I hadn't eaten since lunch. I was going to order food at Honey, but with the snail pace service, I didn't even bother.

When I came back, still trashed, B and I were dancing. Unfortunately, I put my arm down and hit this girl's drink onto the floor. It was half of a patron margarita. It was her birthday (B checked her ID to confirm), so we went to the bar to replace the drink. B got one for the girl and one for herself, and I got a Long Island. I don't think that we paid for those drinks either, unless B did...

B thought that it was silly to give the girl a whole drink because I only knocked over half a cup, maybe. So we drank some before giving it to her.

Our drinks were incredibly strong that night. 

I don't think I drank ANY of the Long Island. I was housed. I ended up going back to see Senegal and in the restroom I poured out the bottle of water I had and poured in the Long Island. Yeah I lost some in transition, but I maintained a good portion of it that is now sitting in my room at home. Senegal and B were having this long involved conversation about pulling strings to get him into school and blah blah blah. We always find the needy ones. It was cute. I promised to look into what I could do. I think he's only on a visa so he needs to find a school to go to or something.

I guess B said she was ready to go, so we got ourselves together and went to the train. We might've stopped for pizza again. Come to think of it, I don't remember getting to the train station or getting on the train. I don't think I had to wait long though and it was only a brown out, because I have bits and pieces of it in my memory.

I did not miss my stop. On my way to my house I ran into OhD, who was also smacked. I told him to just come back to my house and go to sleep. He obliged. It was stupid of him to think he didn't want to do just that.

Of course I texted Steel Pans, but nothing dirty like I usually do. Basically, "Are you coming over?" The answer was "Leave the back door open." So I did.

It was about 1am. I told my mother who was sleep-watching tv, to go to bed, vomited my life up, and went into my room. Got into my PJs and the next thing I remember is waking up next to Steel Pans, naked.

I think I remember the sex. One can't be too sure though. I have one or two flashes of our throes of passion.

I woke up surprisingly un-hungover. My stomach is still not happy, but at least my body didn't feel like I was beaten like a red-headed step child (my aunt actually has one of those...)

Minor sidenote: House Manager told us we had to come another night and not just on Thursdays, he cut her finger and was at the ER that day, but she stopped by at some point during the night. Floor Manager told us we had to come on Wednesday for Bachata lessons because there are never enough women. B agreed. I'm going to be a hot mess. I CANNOT Bachata. I will go though, because I am loyal and they are wonderful.

Thus concluding another episode of the Thursday night debauchery chronicles.

Another sidenote, Delta texted me. He makes no sense. Let's play "decipher this":