Hungover Pooh
2003-04-03
11:16 a.m.

So Hungover

Oh my GOD, I am such an asshole. Let's discuss how hungover I am. Hint: a lot. Am I in college? Why the hell I decided to go out and get completely wasted last night is completely beyond me. My work friend and I were supposed to go to the gym, and she bailed on me at the last minute, and I was going to go with another one of my work friends whose plans had also fallen through. But, instead, we went to a bar and did 3 sets of 12 reps of lifting beers to our lips. I'm usually a 2 beers on a worknight, 3-4 spaced out beers on a weekend kind of girl. I had 6 beers in the space of 3 hours. That's a lot, lot, lot for me. The room was spinning and then I stumbled home (and stumbled all over the train and up the hill and up the stairs) and passed out, waking up to be sick about 10 times. Ha? Why do I not know that this lever does not produce a food pellet? IT PRODUCES A SHOCK. I'm the untrainable lab rat.

I'm so grossed out by myself. I was puking right up until 7:15, and I left at 7:30 for work, and I'm all pale and shakey and gross. If this were my husband and not me I'd be pissed at him right now, ha? What was he thinking? Except, what was I thinking? Okay then.

I did the self-punishment thing and came to work, and I guess I'm moderately proud of myself for that. If I'd coddled myself I would have missed an important meeting and I'd be more likely to pull this again in a few weeks.

I remember being in the bar, surrounded by the cushy velvet curtains, talking to my friend and cracking up and thinking, I could live here. Ha. Ah, drinking problem. Must do experimental halt on all imbibing for a month.

Moving Along

I'm starving. It's someone's birthday here, and there was a miscommunication in which 3 cakes were ordered, all not knowing about each other. RULES! Cake for everyone! Cake times 3! Milton would be pleased, as even after passing, he would still get some.

I played the Bee Gees on the jukebox (which was surprisingly hip, with the exception of the Bee Gees) last night, and it never came on, not even after 3 hours. Bah to bait and switch on the jukebox. There's a bar downtown which prominently features Abba in their box, but if you actually play it, the bouncer will unplug the machine, thus losing everything you and everyone after you requested. I don't get why they don't just remove it? But whatever. Sometimes I put 5 bucks in and play Dancing Queen as many times in a row as I can, just to mess with them. If they asked nicely, I wouldn't play it at all, but since they're dicks about it I torture them.

Embarassing Tattoo History

When I turned 18, I got Very Excited about being legal in terms of tattooing. I had a Very Clever Plan, in which I was going to get a tattoo of Winnie the Pooh with his head in the honey pot right on my hip. Honey pot. Get it? I was SO CLEVER.

Anyway, the tattoo artist with the extremely original name "Snake" was a total ass. I'd brought the art and he didn't like it, and he had all this other very sub par hand drawn crap that he insisted on using. I was thisclose to going along with it when I realized, duh, I could go somewhere else. So, I was all iodined and ready and I got up and walked away. Then I kind of forgot to go back someplace else, and then I got over it. Thank God. Thank Snake. How freaking lame would that have been? And how cool did I think it was? I can't imagine having permanent proof of what a dork I was. The journals and the pictures are enough, thanks.

Okay. I feel moderately human again, so I will work now.