Me the Party Animal
Jun. 11th, 2003 08:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morrigan716I have finally decided to lay off the booze for awhile. I can't seem to drink without making a total ass out of myself. But the reason I've been "partying" so much is that Siscly, my oldest and dearest friend, has recently been dumped and is needing company. Plus, Josh has been in town so I have a built-in babysitter.
Monday, I went to Denny's with Siscly and Wegman, but we had to drag all the kids with us. The rugrats were in an exceptionally hyper mood so we weren't exactly quiet. I know the waitress wanted to kick us out.
Last night, I was driving to Siscly's house and I could see the funnel clouds all around. It was awesome because the sun was shining right between them. Anyway, then me and Siscly were driving down Midwestern PKWY it started hailing. We made it to the Toby's parking lot and sat there in it for a few minutes. The radio said it was going to be tennis ball sized so we decided to run for it while it was small and not risk having the windshield break on us. We were at Toby's because Siscly was going to meet some guy she met online. Of course the guy didn't show up, but we met up with Wegman and decided to go to the Iron Horse.
We were playing pool and I got pissed off at Wegman because he implied either that I must only be having fun because I was drunk or that I was acting like I was drunker than I was. Then Siscly started playing with these older men who were getting off by looking down her shirt, so I hit the White Russians and got depressed, which always happens when I drink hard liquer.
We went back to Siscly's house and I started getting psychotic, blaming everyone for letting me drink White Russians. I cried into Wegman's chest, getting lipstick and mascara all over his white shirt. Then I accused him of stealing my keys so I wouldn't drive off and his soul wouldn't have to feel guilty about me getting killed. So I dug my keys out of my purse and ran out the front door, falling all over myself. Wegman followed to make sure I didn't drive and ended up just driving me home in my own car. I finally went to sleep around 5:30 a.m. and still made it to work by 10:30.
I'm hungover, dizzy, depressed, and feel like a dumbass. So yeah. I think that laying off the Kickapoo Joy Juice might be a wise choice to make. At least for now.
Oh, and I just realized that I've already revealed the name of Anonymous 18-year-old Boy. Oh well.
Monday, I went to Denny's with Siscly and Wegman, but we had to drag all the kids with us. The rugrats were in an exceptionally hyper mood so we weren't exactly quiet. I know the waitress wanted to kick us out.
Last night, I was driving to Siscly's house and I could see the funnel clouds all around. It was awesome because the sun was shining right between them. Anyway, then me and Siscly were driving down Midwestern PKWY it started hailing. We made it to the Toby's parking lot and sat there in it for a few minutes. The radio said it was going to be tennis ball sized so we decided to run for it while it was small and not risk having the windshield break on us. We were at Toby's because Siscly was going to meet some guy she met online. Of course the guy didn't show up, but we met up with Wegman and decided to go to the Iron Horse.
We were playing pool and I got pissed off at Wegman because he implied either that I must only be having fun because I was drunk or that I was acting like I was drunker than I was. Then Siscly started playing with these older men who were getting off by looking down her shirt, so I hit the White Russians and got depressed, which always happens when I drink hard liquer.
We went back to Siscly's house and I started getting psychotic, blaming everyone for letting me drink White Russians. I cried into Wegman's chest, getting lipstick and mascara all over his white shirt. Then I accused him of stealing my keys so I wouldn't drive off and his soul wouldn't have to feel guilty about me getting killed. So I dug my keys out of my purse and ran out the front door, falling all over myself. Wegman followed to make sure I didn't drive and ended up just driving me home in my own car. I finally went to sleep around 5:30 a.m. and still made it to work by 10:30.
I'm hungover, dizzy, depressed, and feel like a dumbass. So yeah. I think that laying off the Kickapoo Joy Juice might be a wise choice to make. At least for now.
Oh, and I just realized that I've already revealed the name of Anonymous 18-year-old Boy. Oh well.
