LORDY LORDY LORDY... That was not a Wednesday night. No. That was a Saturday night wearing a wig and Wednesday's name tag. Any time you wake up on Thursday and have to ask your houseguest why there is a roll of toilet paper in the kitchen, you know it's time for a story.

Somehow, with almost no effort I was convinced that going out last night was a fine idea. So after polishing off a couple bottles of white wine, we elected to go to Full Shilling for some eats and, of course, more to drink. After the numerous rounds which followed dinner, I was somehow talked into going to Carol's... For those of you unfamiliar with Carol's, please allow me to enlighten you. Carol's is a country western themed hole-in-the-wall bar, which I generally detest and avoid when possible. We ran into some fabulous Scottish fellows on the way to Carol's but we couldn't convince them to join in our fun... this is unfortunate because I definitely would have made out with one of them if they had come along... but that's neither here nor there, anyway back to the story. So we got to the quintessential dive bar known as Carol's, where a sober Alana met us and proceeded to laugh at our stupid, drunk asses. We stayed at Carol's for quite some time, drinking heavily, laughing, and talking to the four old men who were the only Carol's clientele outside of our little party. I, of course, had to talk sports... actually I was yelling sports, as the guy who I was talking to was across the bar, and being as drunk as I admittedly was, I had no real perception of appropriate conversational volume. I don't remember a whole lot after that, but I'll let you kids in on the pieced together version of events that I have managed to come up with after talking to my partners in inebriated action.

Eventually we left Carol's, caught a cab home and I apparently took a header up the stairs to the apartment... (yeah, nothing quite like a public declaration of my lack of coordination when intoxicated.) Apparently we were being quite loud out in the hall, (and by we, I mean me,) which prompted the neighbor who we share a landing with to come out and "SHHH" us. For those of you who know me, it goes without saying that I don't like to be SHHH-ed. In fact, more often than not, when I'm SHHH-ed while sober, I'll still let you know that your SHHH-ing me will not keep me quiet, and will more likely incite louder behavior... So when intoxication and lowered inhibitions take hold, you can bet that the neighbor is gonna get told off. From what I've gathered, I told the neighbor to "piss off because I pay my rent too, so since I live here, I'm gonna be as loud as I wanna be!" I might have thrown in a "I'm fourteen years old, I do what I want! You ain't my momma! I'll smack all you bitches!" just for good measure if I had more presence of mind at the time... that would have been just too perfect!

Many of you would think that arriving home after Carol's would be the end of the evening, and the story would neatly end there... if that's the case, you don't know me, and therefore you are WRONG.

At some point a pizza arrived, though I couldn't tell you what kind, where it was from, who paid for it, or if I ate any of it... I only know this because this morning there was pizza sauce on the counter, and there was a pizza box out back by our trash can. And since it was just pizza, I honestly have no idea how or why I was entrusted with a knife, but I was. (For future reference, handing a girl who is ABSOLUTELY BLITZED any sharp object intended to cut things is not a good idea.) So obviously I sliced up a couple of fingers... and apparently I even did that in rather comedic and lackadaisical fashion.

As far as I can tell, I took the next available opportunity to pretty much camp out in the bathroom... (My habit for drunken showers took hold.) I did this despite the fact that I had guests, and I definitely wouldn't let them in, so they had to settle for relieving themselves in the alley... Apologies all around for this one guys! I ended up passing out in the shower, and the only reason I woke up was because several hours later Jen knocked and informed me that she would need to shower before going in to work... (shameful.)

So I got to bed, heard my alarm and decided I was entirely too drunk to attend my first class, so I went back to sleep. My mom called at noon, and without even asking, she knew that I was VERY VERY hungover... I talked to her briefly and went back to sleep. I woke up roughly five minutes after my one o'clock class started without me, and I remembered that I had to go into work at 2:30... So I took advantage of the fact that I have medication for migraines, and definitely drugged myself up to mitigate the hangover. Fortunately my boss is only a few years removed from his own collegiate career, and since he moonlights at a Wrigleyville bar, he's a rather understanding fellow.

An entertaining night all around. Definitely the best Wednesday I've had for quite some time!

There was also a drunk dial to Dave, who I love, and who I undoubtedly drunkenly professed my love for multiple times... because I'm a very loving drunk... and if he gets on the stick, we might actually have that call posted here. It should be an entertaining time for you kids!

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QOTD
9.16.04 - "Well, I think I mooned half of your neighborhood." ~Alana

9.17.04 - "Well, we had to go out in the alley, and I couldn't find Alana. Turns out that she was crouched between two dumpsters and my presence gave her stage fright." ~Ben

9.18.04 - "No, no, no that was when I still had pants on!" ~Alana

9.19.04 - "Yeah, I've been there many times... so let me just say, I think it's admirable that you still managed to show up for work today. Thanks for that! I appreciate it." ~Shawn