Monday, December 13

Please use straw hole.

My week in review:

Wednesday I found out from Grape that Banana and Orange are getting married. I knew it was going to play out like this back in February, but it was still jarring to hear. The good news is Banana took all of the blame for what happened and still feels like an asshole for leading me on and causing drama between Grape and I. The shitty news is apparently I was the catalyst for him realizing what he had with Orange and ultimately deciding to commit to her. Why is this shitty? Because it's not fucking fair. I'm sooooo glad your life is all sorted out and you're in love you fucking asshole, while I'm still single. What bullshit.

Wednesday night I finally heard from MD. He apologized for not calling sooner. He felt awkward after what happened the last time we saw each other and wasn't sure what to say. I told him that's the problem, he doesn't say anything. He finally admitted he likes me and likes being around me, but doesn't want anything serious. I knew all of this of course, I just needed him to say it. We spoke for a few more minutes and ended the call and our fake relationship with "I'll see you around the neighborhood." I saw him on Friday, but more on this later.

I'm not really upset about Banana, just confused and disappointed. What the fuck was the point of all that, for me anyways? Fucking stupid. Unfortunately I am still upset about MD. I'm really attracted to him and wish he would have shown me some kind of effort and interest. Oh well. At least I tried.

Apparently I do have some fans out there still, though. Case in point, some dude I went out with on one date back in 2008 Facebook friended me that night (Wednesday was all about boys). I don't really understand why he did considering we haven't spoken in over two years and he's In A Relationship, but it was nice to feel like someone's thinking of me.

Thursday was a Minnow day. I had my interview for the internal job. It seemed to go pretty well, so keep your fingers crossed! The company holiday party started at 3pm that afternoon. I had a really good time hanging out with the few people I can stand there. My plan was to go home early in preparation for Friday, but of course I ended up going to a nearby pub and ending the night eating tacos on my living room floor at 1am. Typical.

So what was Friday all about? Bakes and I took off for THE DONKEY DOWN. Our favorite Astoria bar Crazy Ass (I'm still referring to it by nickname to protect the innocent - me.) has a fun game for alcoholics and over-eaters. If you do one of the following you get your picture stapled on the ceiling for all of eternity or until the gruidos run out of room for opening new cafes on 30th Ave and spread the bore over to 36th Ave:

1. Eat a donkey mess, which I think is all of their appetizers thrown on one plate. You must eat the whole thing yourself. Pass.

2. Drink not one, but TWO fishbowls filled with all sorts of Bacardi and swedish fish. I drank most of one the day of my 10K and woke up on my bathroom floor. Pass again.

3. Drink a beer from each of their fourteen taps in one sitting. DING DING DING!

I made tracking lists for us. This is how I did:

As you can see from my handwriting, beers 12-14 were rough, so rough that I don't remember them. That's right, folks. I made it all the way to the end to brown out for the finale. What a fucking drunk. My body still hurts, my soul hates me, but hot damn, my picture is on that ceiling.

MD came in when we were finished and drinking water. I sort of remember talking to him. Bakes said we were totally cool to each other. I was a little sad as he was supposed to take off and do the Donkey Down with us. Obviously he didn't. It was better off, though. Bakes is the only person I want to marathon drink with...

but unfortunately the marathon drinkups are OVER. I'm pretty sure I've had fourteen beers in a night before, but the hard part on Friday was drinking a different beer each time especially ones I can't stand. Give me fourteen Guinness and I'll definitely be wasted, but I won't be sick the next day. I've been sick all fucking weekend. That's not a complaint as this is my own fucking fault, just stating a fact.

Saturday my brain melted. I couldn't form complete sentences and when I did I sounded like the Mad Hatter. Somehow I managed to go out to dinner, dessert, and to a bar until late. I didn't drink AT ALL though, just stuffed my face. Yesterday I went to the Jets game. The guys at the tailgate gave me a shot of some new Patron flavor. I took one small sip and dumped the rest on the ground when they weren't looking. I also took one sip of an Amstel Light and gave the rest to Spags. My body is full on rejecting all alcohol and my god, I never thought I'd say this, but I couldn't be happier. Instead I stuffed my face again with lovely tailgate fare and a delicious dinner at Meatball Shop after the game. I probably gained ten pounds in the last two days, but I don't care. My body needs fuel.

And rest. Lots of rest!! Wednesday I barely slept because of the boy crap and every night since then I've been up until at least 1am. I'm off today (yeah four day weekend!) and am so friggin glad. I need a nap STAT!

1 comment:

Lillie said...

I just read that whole fruit basket thing and want to go get a drink immediately so you can diagram for me.