Lost weekend

Plan: spend as much of the weekend in a drunken stupor as possible.

Flaw with plan: I can't hold my liquor.

Result of plan: Headache, lethargy and loss of appetite.

Friday
Spesh came to my office party (held at work buddy, TR's, house, a few blocks away from me). I brought cookies. The party was held "off campus" so that we could drink at will. Works for the plan!

I said, "People will think you're my boyfriend."
He said, "I don't care. Keep them guessing."

At least he's not ashamed to be associated with me. Spesh was shocked to see me drink a half a glass of wine and a rum and coke.

"J, You're not a drinker!"
"Sometimes I am."
"Is there a reason?"
"Damn straight there's a reason."

He didn't get it. I told him the one minute version of the latest installment of the Tim story, but Spesh was not impressed.

After the office party, we went to my place and took (work-friend) Diego with us. We hung out and drank my "scientifically" brewed tea. Diego stuck around for an hour or so. I IM'd with Pele. Spesh started writing to her too and pretended (poorly) to be me. He asked her what she was wearing. She thought that was a strange question.

Later that evening, we met Spesh's friend, Thad, to go to a potluck. Before the potluck, we went to another guy's house for a drink. I had sobered up by then, but after one beer I was back on the road to drunkville. Yay me.

We went to an unscheduled dinner party (where I dropped off some cookies) and left right before they served the food (boo) then drove all the way to Maryland for our regularly scheduled potluck. We didn't get there until after 10pm and most of the food was gone. I provided more cookies. Sigh. I never had a proper dinner.

Spesh did all the driving because Thad was even drunker than I by the end of the evening. They dropped me home after 2am.

Saturday
When I woke, I was fuzzy as hell and realized the flaw in my plan. Traditionally, I've never gotten a hangover, but I drank more than my three-drink-a-day limit and I felt tired and blah. How was I going to make it to the Santa pub crawl?

Turned out, it was not fated to be. Pele was tied up with work (damn and blast congress) and didn't know when she would be able to leave. Her worst fear was that she would be there until midnight. MIDNIGHT.

I took myself to lunch and a movie at Union Station.

I was in communication with Velvet about her evening plans. She thought it would be a good idea for me to impersonate her on her date. I thought it was a hilarious idea but I declined to go through with it. However, I did agree to meet her at the site of the date and spy and/or rescue her depending on the situation.

Pele called and said she could leave work at 7pm. She came with me on the Velvet rescue mission. (You can read about Velvet's date here. Rescue indeed.)

We went for a drink and ate some food. I had two martinis and I was OUT.

On our walk back to the car, I pulled out the cookies I'd brought with me. I was going to give out cookies on the pub crawl and I brought them with me despite the change of plans. I opened up the box and offered some to a very drunk lost-in-the-80's trio. They refused. Another group (two gals and a guy) passed us walking in the same direction and I offered them cookies. The guy said, "Really?"
"Yes. I made them."
"Ok!" He scooped up two.
I turned to the women with him, "Cookie?"
They looked at me and said, "Um. No."
Rude! I promise, girls, you won't get fat if you eat one cookie.


A minute later, even though the group had walked well ahead of us, I saw the guy turn around and run towards us. Pele said, "What is he doing?"
I said, "He wants more cookies."
When he got to me, I said, "More cookies?"
"Yes! Thanks!" He took three or four and ran back to his friends. We couldn't stop laughing.

I arrived home at a more reasonable hour and was in bed by 1am. An early night!

Sunday
I managed to sleep late and I didn't feel like complete crap when I got up. I roamed around the house, considered showering and cleaning, but did neither. I was transfixed by the television for a while, then decided that to take myself out to lunch and the movies.

I went to a Chinese place, but found I had little appetite. No headache, but no desire to eat. I pushed the food around my plate and drank a lot of tea.

My fortune: From now on your kindness will lead you to success. About damn time.

I went to see Syriana. I'm sure it's a fine movie (or maybe not), but all I cared about was getting to the non-subtitled parts so I could close my eyes. I don't think I actually slept, but when the lights went down I realized how completely exhausted I was.

After that, I had one more potluck to attend. I went straight from the movie to the party. Remember that writing class I took way back when? The party was hosted by the instructor. Even though I didn't like the class much, I had no compunction about going to the party. I brought cookies. They were a big hit.

Unfortunately, all the men at the potluck were either gay or coupled. I had a good time, though. Diego met me there and I tried to talk to some of the gay men on his behalf. Sadly, most of them were coupled too. Diego and I went for a quick bite to eat after the party. That was good because I don't see him very much these days.

I took a cab home and was asleep by midnight.

I can't wait to see what excitement this week brings. It won't be more drinking, I can promise you that.

Grateful for: knowing my limits.