About last night...

I rarely wake up with a hangover. So you know that last night must have been...interesting as I woke up at 8:25 and spent the next hour convincing myself that I could somehow drag my ass to work with a headache and the urge to vomit. Let me recap for you.

I met up with a friend for drinks at Millie & Al's. We used to go there A LOT when we lived in the same group house. We started with beer and switched to Jack and diet. Now Jack and I were BFF in college, but we had a falling out my senior year and we haven't spoken since. And after last night, I'm not sure if we can piece back our friendship.

So my friend and I did a lot of chatting and drinking and at one point we decide that we HAVE TO go to Heaven for 80s night (part of our group house ritual). I don't know how many times I almost tripped walking down that street in heels and every time shouting "I'M NOT DRUNK, I'm clumsy!" Pretty. But a nice "thank you!" to the guy who warned us that some girl just vomited on sidewalk and to watch out for it.

We get to Heaven and find everyone's favorite bartender, Jerry. He is such a sweetheart and he'll hold your jacket. Bless him! That's when I see him...TheBartender I use to date about 4 years ago. I met him one evening in Hell (insert appropriate bartender from hell jokes here). We went out for a few months. He had quit working there many years back, but I guess he's back. Bastards. I then immediately forgot about him, because we had dancing and drinking to do.

At this point I had switched to vodka and pineapple and I'm shaking my ass (in a "I'm the world's best dancer when I've been drinking" kind of way. Pretty, I know.). Next thing I know they are shouting last call. We all stumble out, say our goodbyes and head home. That's when I realize that I lost my fob-thingy that gets me into my apartment building. Greeeat. At least the lock on the door hasn't been removed yet and I can still use the key to get in. I pray that my fob-thingy is at M&A. Otherwise I'll have to shell out $50 for a replacement. I woke up this morning somehow in my pajamas. I really need McDonald's greasy-greasy breakfast.


So I'm here, reeking of smoke and feeling like ass. I'm SO pretty.








e-mail update from my friend on what happened when she got home: "I broke both of my keys trying to get in the house last night.  One snapped off in the lock so now the front door can't be locked! Oops! Think I made a snack (obviously!) and then woke up on the couch using a roommate's laptop as a pillow (v. hard) at 4:30am when my boyfriend called in a panic to find out where I was.  Oops!"