6 posts tagged “drinking”

I got ditched. 
I'm doing my damnedest to not get butt hurt over it.

Lesley and I had plans for pho today.  To catch up, discuss apartment issues and actually talk because we haven't really seen each other since she got back from Singapore.
She's too busy moving everything today and organizing shit and doing all that crap that comes with moving.  She requested a postponement until tomorrow.  It's not that I can't do it tomorrow, I could, I just don't want to.  I kind of hold Sundays sacred.  They're my day to do my thing, whether that's lay in bed all day, laundry, stoned blogging... whatever.  So we rescheduled to Wednesday. 

Today would have been best.  It's the day we've had planned for a week.

Get over it, Megan.

Got a text from the Terrorist last night at around 1230a.  He was asking if I wanted to stop by to watch Obama's speech.  Now, if it was anyone other than him, I'd think it was the "Wanna come watch a movie" line and everyone knows that there is no actual movie WATCHING when someone agrees to that.  Well, maybe a the first 5-10 minutes but that's it.  Because this is the Terrorist, I knew he actually meant WATCH the speech.  So, I went over.  Not so much for the speech as to hang out with the T and get some cuddle time in.  The speech was very good.  Gave me goose bumps on many occasions.  Awesome.

God, I'm cranky.
 
Disclaimer:  Bowl smoke-age to commence now.  I need to get out of this cranky ass mood.  Not sure if the reefer will help but it sure as fuck can't hurt.  I really don't know why I'm disclaiming anything... but I figure it's fun.  Hehe.  Yes, I admit it, my name is Megan and I like using useless disclaimers on my blog!  (Hi Megan!)

I'm kind of over the Jamiroquai thing.  Though I might have to rewind it to Love Foolosophy one more time.

I got a text from a friend of mine (Blondie) I used to work with at Capers.  I haven't seen her since I've been back in town though we keep making tentative plans and on or both of us flake out.  Her 27th birthday was on Thursday and she wanted me to stop in and have drinks with her and her 8 gajillion friends.  It was being held at this bar in the Pearl District, which is a pretty area and I tend to enjoy walking around there but I can't handle the posh-ness that all the business's posses.  Which Is why I just walk around and never enter any of them.  I drove by the bar it was at... The District and had to force myself to not turn around and run screaming.  I sucked it up, went in, got an $8 Monopalova and cran and proceeded to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room.* 
I've learned over the years that I don't fit in with the "pretty people" of the world.  I tried for a long time and it just made me feel horrible about myself.  I'm not sure why because I really have nothing in-common with the types that frequent these type of places.  I give a shit about things other than how my blond highlights came out on my blond hair or which of the guys I'm seeing has the highest net worth and that's how I'll pick who I'm going to start getting serious with. 
I feel like it should be stated that I love Blondie.  I've had a shit ton of fun with her, she introduced me to pho and day drinking and strippers.  Okay so she didn't really introduce me to strippers but day drinking & strippers were something we always did together.  She is very much a pretty girl.  Not just because she's beautiful but I guess the term "every-girl" should be used here.  The terrorist has been trying to explain to me what exactly an every-girl is and I think I finally grasped the concept.  Thanks to Blondie.  Granted, I think she's an extreme case of the every-girl but she IS an every-girl. 
The awkward standing got moved outside to awkward sitting.  Blondie and I actually got a few seconds to talk in which she told me about how the guy she's seeing organized the shin dig for her along with taking her out to get her Nails & Hair did, taking her shopping and getting her some ridiculously over priced designer dress for the night with matching shoes.  It was a seriously deep discussion. 
She finished her cigarette and went inside with a group of friends that showed up.  I stayed outside, smoking and trying to find a graceful way to get the fuck out of there.  That's when Ireland started talking to me.  Ireland is this middle age-ish red haired, red faced dude.  I actually think he might have been younger than middle age but I'm pretty sure due to years of excessive drinking he's getting older (and redder) than his years.  He was a friend of Blondie's, we chatted for half a minute then his conversation continued with my tits.  Now, I know I have a great rack but how can anyone think that tit talking is acceptable?!?!   There are very very very few acceptations to this rule.  Guys... Tit talking is not cool.  Don't do it!!!  This was the final straw for me.  I decided I wasn't going to worry about being tactful.  I put half of my $8 drink down, went and gave Blondie a hug and told her I was peacin' out. 

I was on my way to the Terrorists and I decided to stop for a fountain coke.  Somehow I locked myself out of my car (probably because I was half stoned and talking to Nathan on the phone).  I hadn't replaced my key under my plate since the last time I got locked out.  So I was more or less fucked.  Luckily I was 2 blocks from the Terrorists house so I walked up there, got a coat hanger, and figured I'd try to jimmy the lock.  I've tried this a few times and have never been able to get it.  This time, was different.  I GOT IT!!   I was very proud of myself.
When I got back to the Terrorist's house he made me put my key back on my plate.  Now I know that if I get locked out again (haha, if, who the fuck am I kidding... WHEN I get locked out again) I will have two methods to get back in my car.  Very exciting.
But not as exciting as stair sex.
Like that little segue? 
Oh yeah, I got boned on the stairs!  I'm pretty sure at least one of his neighbors had to have seen my ass but that's okay.  It was some good sexin'. 
Complete with bite marks on the back of my hand from an attempt to keep myself quite. 
Classy.

Reefer and blogging about snotty bitches really did make me feel better.
Yay.  Fuck, I should go get ready for work. 
I don't want to go to work. 
I need to find another job.

*I would have pasted myself against a wall but there was no wall space anywhere near the party and though I seriously contemplated it I figured standing half way across the room by myself would probably just make me seem even more socially awkward.

one of those people who are uber scary looking in the morning.
I mean, I'm not going to win beauty contests or anything but for the most part I pretty much look normal.
Shaz... is not like that.  Shaz wears a lot of make up and does crazy shit to her hair so when she wakes up she's kind of scary looking.  Make up is smeared everywhere.  Big eye makeup circles and hair all crazy.*
Today, I looked like Shaz. 
Before I went out last night I did my make up, my theory was that if I wore a lot of dark eye make up it would help draw attention from the dark bags under my eyes.  Not sure if it worked or not but that's neither here nor there. 
I was exhausted last night, I think I was more tired than drunk actually and did not remove the make up before I went to bed. 
When I went into the bathroom this morning I actually gasped a bit.  I looked like I had been in a fight, both eyes were black with bits of purple, my hair was a fright but yet I had on the prettiest shiny HUGE earrings.

Bigassearings

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Yes.  I admit.  I did all of this just to have an excuse to show off my earrings.  They're pretty!!!!

I lost my fucking lighter!!.  I stole it from the airport.  (Someone left it on a bench or something probably cause they were going through security.)  I had a shit ton of lighters and they all seem to be slowly disappearing.  I grabbed this one and I was going to stick it with my bowl that way I can stop smoking with matches but the fucking thing is missing.
I think I might have picked it up and moved it when Little T was sleeping in here and now I just can't remember where the fuck I put it.

Okay, I'm getting distracted.

*I'm not picking on Shaz here... She knows she's "un-composed" in the morning... I'm just using her as an example.

I get my reefer from the Terrorist's neighbors.
They're medical, and have some extremely potent shit.
The last batch I got I started referring to it as "sleepy weed" because the shit would knock you out.  I've gotten used to there strong reefer and I understand that it's more potent than they average plant but this shit would have me asleep and drooling before I could finish a sentence.  Because of this it took me a LONG time to finish it.  I'm not a heavy smoker at all, I generally go through about a gram in a week and that's if I have people helping me but this shit took me about a month to a month and a half to get through. 
Anyway, I re-upped yesterday. 
After "adult time night"* before I went down and talked to the roommies, got some for myself and some for Lesley.  Last night I got home and decided I was going to have one of my old Saturday nights. 
Reefer, blogging, masturbation. 
In that order. (Generally) 
It was good stuff, as always, but it started to knock me out again.  I don't know if it's because it was late and I was sleepy already but I hope this isn't some more sleepy weed, cause if it is I'm gonna be sad.  Though I have to say, it doesn't give me the Bake Over that "sleepy weed" did.

Though I'm completely sick of work I've decided to give it another month or so.  Partially because rumor has it they're gonna make me Asst. Manager and partially because Little T will be starting school soon and I know the T has no other options for child care.  Plus if Little T is in school all day that would give me days as an option for work.  I could find a day bartending gig somewhere.  That sounds nice.  (As long as It's not too early in the day.)   And who knows?  Maybe I'll like the Asst. Manager thing?  I doubt it, but stranger things have happened.  I'm going to talk to my general manager about it tomorrow and basically lay it all out to her.  How in Sept I intend to find another job and that could mean that I might just cut my hours or possibly quit all together and that I can't take the Asst. Manager thing unless my schedule stays the same.  We'll see what she says.

Today is Alex's last day.  That makes me sad.  And not just because I LOVE working after her because she gets EVERYTHING done and I don't have to stress but because she's an awesome kid and I'm gonna miss her.  We've decided that today to celebrate her last day (or something) we're going to drink Kahlua and Tit Milk**.  (She's breast feeding and somehow we got on the conversation about drinking it, what had started as a joke somehow turned into an actual thing.)  We were talking about steaming it up and making a Cafe au Tit Milk but we don't know how it's going to handle the steaming process so instead we decided to do it cold.    

Okay, my laundry is done (and has been for a few minutes now) so I should go fold it, go home and clean up all the non-kid friendly shit I've had out, then get ready for work.

*Which was fabulous by the way and has also reminded me why I never really have drunk sex.  Though drunk sex is fun and all; alcohol makes you have to pee and when one (such as myself) already has a bladder the size of a peanut adding alcohol into the mix will take what could be a marathon session and cut it in half with a "dude, you've really gotta stop, I'm gonna pee myself."
**If I can get into work early enough (which i doubt will happen) most likely it'll be Coffee and Tit Milk.

I'm very pissed off at this computer/IE even though it's probably most likely Operator Error.  If the touch pad didn't have that thingy I wouldn't have made the freakin' error!!  Anyway, I had a nice longish post (long enough that I'm really pissed I lost it) and now it's gone.

Its subject matter went something like this.

Disclaimer:  I was disclaiming that I was stoned and blogging and not to get pissed off if I said something that offended you because I warned you and you'd have no right to bitch.  I also threw in something about how the potency of marijuana has gone up like 10% or something in the past year.  The white house did a study.

The next paragraph contained bits of rambling regarding a movie I just watched.  The Piano Teacher.  It really was a fucked up movie.  It wasn't bad.  It wasn't great either... mainly it was just fucked up.

I then went on to discuss how I stayed at the Terrorist's house last night.  I mentioned we had sex.  (Twice)  I'm sore as fuck from it.  I haven't been this sore from sex in a freakin long time.  Oh well, It's all for the cause.  I woke up around 2a, couldn't sleep, got up and hung out for a bit.  Then the T got up, stumbled into the living room looking all cute and confused (and naked!) and asked "What the fuck happened?*"

After talking to him for a few minutes it was discovered that he didn't remember a good majority of the evening.  Which I can't really say is a surprise from the way he was throwin' 'em back.  Apparently he didn't remember any of the sex which kind of surprised me because I thought he would have at least remember the first round.  Now, I'm very open with my friends and there have been a time or two (or twenty) when I've been asked for sex details.  It's a question I've come to expect (especially when talking to Nathan) but it has to be said... it's a slightly odd feeling when you're being asked for the details that lead up to sex by the person who was instigating the sex.  It kind of sucks that he can't remember it.  Oh well, not that big of a deal.  It really was some good sex though, he gets very aggressive when highly intoxicated, which, is awesome.

I'm dirty.  I need to shower.  I think Lesley is finally out of the bathroom

I think I got all the key points to the erased blog.  I could have missed some.  My brain's not exactly on top of it at the moment. 

Fuck someone's in the bathroom again!  Bastards!  I need to shower!  On a completely different note... I really miss my heating pad.

Okay I'm done.

*It should be mentioned (and was mentioned in the first version of this post) that we were drinking.  He was drinking heavily, me, not so heavily.

I drank to much.  Correction.  I drank WAY to much.  I drank so much that when I woke up at 6am this morning (3hrs after I went to bed)  I was still drunk.  I went to work drunk... I was making waffles this morning.  I'm the best waffle maker on the ship.  I was drunk and I totally ROCKED it.

I went out last night partially because I wanted to go celebrate my first paycheck and partially because Miguel gave me no choice.  I drank so much because Miguel kept putting drinks in front of me. 

This was my first time in Maui without silver service.  It was great.  Life on the ship will probably be a lot more pleasant all around without silver service.

Did I mention the fact that my throat really hurts right now?  Because it does, a lot.

I think I'm going to go write a group email then go take care of my laundry and everything else that way I can go to bed as soon as I get home this evening.

Drinking on a ship is really fucked up.

Because when you drink when not on a ship you have a tendency to feel wobbly and sway a little.  But when you drink on a ship you still have that feeling only it's much worse because your not sure if you're the one wobbling or if it's the ship.  It's genereally the ship.

I was in Honolulu today.  It was beautiful.  I actually got some color which is simply super.

Fuck, I'm exhausted, I'm going to bed.