Sunday, January 18, 2009

I'm just gonna go with it.

This morning I woke up snuggled up to my roommate Mr. L, on the living room couch, and still drunk. A look around the room showed Miss C on the little couch with a blanket. A peek into my room showed Mr. CPP asleep, comfortably, in the middle of my bed alone. What kind of exciting night leaves aftermath such as this? A very exciting night, I assume.

Saturday was a good day. Following a pretty decent Friday night (considering I was working and I got propositioned rather crudely). I went to brunch at the Sandpiper with Miss B. When we arrived we discovered Miss A sitting with one of her former roommates, a co-worker of hers. We joined them at the table and began what would be a long and raucous brunch - no doubt painful for all those not privy to our jokes. We belly laughed for a solid two hours. We laughed loudly and riotously. We told stories and made jokes and nearly choked on our own hilarity. I don't know that I have laughed that hard in a good long time.

Post-brunch, Miss B and I went to gather the last of her things to move to her new place, where we had a heart-to-heart which, heard only partially by Miss B's now former roommate, caused more laughter. Somehow it came to be understood by him that we got men drunk to see their wee-wees. Not at all the actual conversation. Once we had gathered the last of the stuff, we watched Super Troopers at my place. More laughter. I hope laughter is a good ab workout. Miss B took leave and I was about to get in the shower when Miss P convinced me to meet up with her and have dinner. We met between our homes and headed to El Sombrero where we overloaded our stomachs with burrito goodness. This particular dinner date didn't include the same laughter that was present in the earlier part of the day, at least not until the end of our meal when we were talking about the biological urge to have children (and how sex is pleasurable so we will make babies) and a small and curious child at the booth behind me turned to us and asked in a really horrified way, "What are you guys talkin' 'bout?!" Cue: Exit. Stage left.

After filling our bellies to the point of looking like we were with child, we browsed some shops before heading to our separate homes. Finally I hopped in the shower and got ready to face the day, er, night. I also finished reading Still Life with Woodpecker by Tom Robbins, which gets added to my list of favorite books ever. I headed to the Hangar and ran into Miss A, later adding Miss B and Miss C to the mix. ABC's. Ha. Anyway. We did a bit of pub crawling that night, Hangar to Imperial to Alaskan to Rendezvous to Imperial again. While at the Hangar Miss A was introducing me to one of our table-mates, whom I had met previously. It wasn't fresh in my mind, but he told me that he had met me through Mr. A, and it all comes back to me now. Yup. We were acquainted, for sure. Hopping around that night, we had plenty of drinks and I was feeling fabulous when Mr. A showed up. Now, I wish I could say that I can behave normally around him, but for some reason his presence puts me on edge since we've gone our separate ways. So on edge, in fact, that I downed three drinks in about as many minutes. Along with everyone else to whom I've allowed myself to get emotionally attached, he told me he was dating someone. He did, for some reason, explain that it wasn't "anything serious" and he gave me a beer. I downed the beer, babbled about where I work, chatted with him about what he's doing, all in all more words than we likely exchanged the entire time we were seeing each other.

Up until those last three drinks in those last three minutes of full consciousness, the night was full of girl talk and fun. After those last three drinks in those last three minutes, we enter the black out phase. I hear we went to Miss P's house. We apparently hit up Pel'meni. We apparently also made it back up to my apartment where the sleeping arrangements fell into place.

And then I woke up. Snuggled up to Mr. L. Drunk.

This is the part where I just go with it. I'm no stranger to waking up drunk. It's happened before, usually followed by more sleep or going to work when I ought not, then there is the come-down, then there is the hangover. Not today though, today was not your average post-apocalyptic hangover day.

Miss C left at a semi-reasonable hour. Mr. L and I ran into my room and sandwiched Mr. CPP. Then I feel asleep again. When I awoke a bit later, Mr. L and I decided to go to Silverbow. That's when we saw the light. The sunlight. And we felt the warmth. To a normal person, it probably wasn't that warm, but to a sunshine and warmth deprived Alaskan, it was glorious. We sat out in the sun and ate bagels and drank coffee and tea. Mr. M walked by and joined us out on the little patio in the parking lot. We were also joined by a little plastic man we call Fleshbeard. I choose to explain no further.

Miss AG was there having brunch with her brother, his girlfriend, and another friend. On their way out, she stopped to chat and introduced all of us. What followed was a slightly awkward conversation and then an apparently hilarious exclamation from me. When the group had turned to walk away, I said to Mr. M in a not-library voice, "I think I'm still drunk."

This breakfast with Mr. L and Mr. M was another laughter filled meal. Once it had been determined that all of us were still at least sort of drunk, we went to Mr. M's apartment and decided to grab another beer each. Just go with it. I also grabbed the little Turkish drum and started beating on that while we laughed about Fleshbeard, yelled unnecessarily loudly, and made robot gestures. Miss P came out post caroling and Mr. G followed shortly thereafter. We all continued to have absurd conversation about awkward cop and Fleshbeard and being drunk. We also participated in some recreational snow removal. Miss P and I worked together with snow shovels to remove a large clump. Mr. L and I collaborated to pick up a big, long section of melted and refrozen snow, which we preceded to drop off the balcony. We then laughed hysterically.

After finishing the day-beer and snow removal, when the sun was beginning to slide behind the mountains, Mr. L and I went home. We went home and we put on Fright Night and fell asleep. Now, here I am, working at the Bergmann, plotting events and creating drinks, maintaining my joyous mood and feeling no guilt about maintaining a level of insobriety for such a long time.

Happy day before MLK Jr. Day!

Happy almost inauguration!

Happy drunk day!

2 comments:

Sharon said...

Try this shot, called "Good Sex":
1 part Chambord,
1 part Bailey's, spoon-poured on top so it doesn't mix.

FABULOUS.

Melissa Leeanne said...

Good Sex just doesn't sound like that great a shot. I would prefer GREAT Sex. But I guess you can't be too picky.