10 posts tagged “drinking”

We drank a lot.  Not as much as we had planned....well, maybe Leslie did:)  That's really all I can say about this portion of our adventures, so enjoy the pictures.

Leslie is in town, and she and I met up with Isaac at the pub.  It was a sloooow night; there were maybe thirty people in the entire place, and it was karaoke night, too!  I remember years ago, you could barely move around on karaoke nights.  Things change.  I'm sure between the smoking ban and gas prices, no one really bothers driving over anymore. 

Had to grab food afterward.  Leslie totally bitched out some drunk-ass teenager who tried to sit at our table...she even threatened to call the cops.  It was insane.  And hilarious.  I told her she was a bad-ass.

One more day until Austin!

I was listed on the Vox Music page for my post on Simple Plan!  That's a first (that I'm aware of)!  No wonder I was getting so many hits:)

I worked at the music store tonight, and Mr. I'm-Actually-Eighteen-But-I'm-Not-Telling-You came in with a few friends.  He asked me if I remember him, and I admitted that I did.  He didn't ask why I hadn't called, and I didn't bring it up.  He seemed a little embarrassed, but I didn't make a big deal about it, and chatted with them all for a few minutes.  Nice enough kids, I suppose.  

Two weeks from now, I'll be in Austin with Leslie, destroying my liver.  Can't believe it's almost here!  I think we should make it a yearly ritual...something to look forward to every summer.

I've started studying for THEA, and it looks like I won't have any problem with the reading or writing areas.  I'm pretty sure I'll get stuck in Remedial Math, since it's my worst subject, but that's okay.  I'm still going to try my best.  When I went up to TJC on Thursday, I got all emotional as I was walking to the Student Center, and I thought, "I've walked across this campus before, but never as an actual student.  HOLY SHIT, I GO HERE NOW!"  It was a truly kick-ass feeling.  I don't give a damn if it's just TJC and everyone and their mother can get in.  I'm elated.

We've decided to switch hotels in Austin.  The Omni is beautiful and ritzy, but I mentioned the other day that I'd like to hang out in SoCo, and Leslie did some research and found us this kitschy little place literally down the street from everything we want to do.  Julia Roberts and Sandra Bullock have both stayed there, and we got the VERY LAST ROOM.  Must be pretty awesome.  I'm just happy that we won't have to worry about sobering up to drive after hitting Sixth Street, and we can just stumble on back to the room. 

Oh, and it's listed as a "Green Hotel"!  Yay for that!

Look at all the stuff there is to do!  Coffee shops, galleries, boutiques, fresh produce, bars, clubs, music, food, AGH!!

I'm prepared to fall in love with Austin again.  Who knows...between Dallas, Ft. Worth, Austin, and San Antonio, I might find a place to set some roots down someday.

Let's flash back momentarily to a Friday night in January.  Kristi and Lindsay took me out for my first official Girls' Night Out.  I hadn't yet been clubbing, and we ended up sitting at a table and taking in the scene.  At some point, a few drinks later, I lost track of them, and was manhandled onto the dance floor by some skeezy old guy with a mullet and rank beer breath.  I was not happy.  I escaped after about a minute, apologetically explaining that I had promised the girls that I would stick close by, but he somehow managed to track me down and give me his phone number.  I pitched it in the garbage bin as soon as he turned around.  Yuck.

We'll flash forward a bit, this time into April, I believe.  A large group of us, all girls except for Anita's husband Richard, are out at the same club, dancing and playing pool.   The same guy came over and as soon as I saw him, I hightailed it into the ladies' room, leaving some of my pals confused as to why I had suddenly run away.  On the way, I passed Kristi and she had seen him, too, and nodded in agreement.  A few minutes later, she came in and said that he was gone, but not before asking Richard if any of us purty ladies were single.  Thankfully, Richard said something along the lines of, "They're all married or gay."  God bless you, Richard.  I borrowed Jess' wedding band for extra insurance in case he came back.  I doubt he would have remembered me, anyway...he had been pretty far gone that night in January.

Today, while stopping at my favorite gas station on the way to work to pick up some gum and a drink, a man cornered me by the chips and bean dip.  I recognized him immediately, and tried my best to shove my large sunglasses back over my eyes.

"I don't mean to be rude, but you sure are a beautiful woman."

Oh, god.  Dammitdammitdammitdammit.

I think I said thank you, but my survival instincts kicked in and I somehow managed to run to the counter, pay for my purchases, and get the hell out of there.  It's a blur.   I do remember calling Kristi while turning onto Front Street...I had to tell someone, and she was one of the only ones who knew the whole story.  I really, really, hope he didn't recognize me, and I hope he's not intelligent enough to figure out that I frequent that gas station.  I really like that place, and I know the people there.  At least I'd have backup in case he decided to put his greasy paws on me again.

Why can't I run into the hot ones?

So here are some funny pictures from tonight.  More later.  Must get to bed.

I started sneezing as soon as I crossed the border into Louisiana, and I stopped when I crossed back over eight hours later.  Huh.

Today was my orientation from the bank, and I had to drive, oh, an hour and a half each way to sit in a room with six other new hires and fill out paperwork.  Riveting.  But everyone was super friendly, I got a free lunch, and I'll be reimbursed for everything.  I start at my branch tomorrow.

Dad's test results came back today.  I got the news when I called my mom to tell her I was on my way back to Tyler.  It's not cancer.  It's a touch of pneumonia, and it's something he can beat.  He's fine, though I still have to keep pushing him to improve his lifestyle.  I may have to start force-feeding him.

I'm still recovering somewhat from Jessica's massive graduation kegger Saturday night.  I was all ready to take lots of incriminating photos.  I get to her house and realize that I've left my memory card at home.  F*ck.  Kristi and some guy named Mike took photos and promised to get them to me.  I got completely trashed on some odd combination of Miller Light, Shiner Bock, Red Bull and Vodka, and Sour Apple Puckers, then proceeded to tell stupid stories and take ten dozen trips to the bathroom, paranoid that the entire party was hovering outside the bathroom window trying to get a glance at my white Irish ass.  I smoked almost an entire pack of cigarettes between the hours of 8pm and 4am (when I had two left, they mysteriously disappeared and I don't know if they were stolen, or I inadvertently mistook them for Pocky and ate them.  It's a little blurry.), and now sound like one of Marge Simpson's sisters.  Scary stuff.  There was one almost-fight, one guy passed out in his car, one botched trip to the pub to "rescue" a douchebag, and a two-hour session of acoustic "jams".  Kumbaya, my ass.  All in all, it was quite a fun evening/morning.

I am so tired. 

Oh, and apparently, a large bird of prey decided that my helpless little car was the perfect spot for a drive-by shitting.  The pattern reminds me of a Spin-Out shirt I had in the fourth grade.

Carrie Bradshaw I ain't, but the more I see of this town and the dating scene that I've forced myself back into, the more jaded I become, and the more I want to write about it.  I don't want to nitpick all the psychological aspects of it, like Carrie...rather, I'd write it as it is, a bit like Laurie Notaro: awkward, frightening, alcohol-drenched, and piss-your-pants hilarious. 

I'd write about the group of people standing outside the club one night, being drilled by police, and one of them keeps shrieking about "Rhonda!  Rhonda!"  We figure she is talking about her ride, but this "Rhonda" is nowhere to be seen.  The girls and I are standing around, then a big SUV pulls up with another woman hanging out the passenger window.  She's flailing somewhat, and though I cannot remember how we put two and two together, we realized that this 45-year-old woman with her boobs half-hanging out of her shirt was Rhonda, and we directed her to the proper party:)

See?  That stuff is priceless.  I'm going to start bringing a notepad with me when we go out. 

Well. Fine.

After not all that much consideration, Kristi and I (and I think Jessica, too) decided we've had enough, dammit.  It gets old, it really does.  You wonder when you're finally going to cross that line, and I think we're done.  For a while, anyway.

Bars.  Clubs.  It's been non-stop for me, pretty much every weekend since I've been back.  It's been a blast, but it's getting a) too expensive and b) a bit depressing.  Honestly.

I will miss the workout, though.  Continuous booty-dancing can seriously burn some calories, am I right?  Of course I am.

I'm going to bed.

Dammit, I fucking love my friends.

Old ones, new ones...everybody!

Sneeriously.