Oh. my. god.
The memories, they suddenly come flooding back.
First off, let me say that it’s the crack of dawn and I’m sitting very carefully in my bed, being sure that my head is exactly straight on my shoulders because I fear that if I move an inch to either side, my head is going to flop over and break. right. off.
I am that hung over.
Yesterday I went to a get-together-type-thing at the lake. We went out on the boat and zoomed around for a little while and then it stormed and all the power on the lake went out, so our original plan to possibly hit Mango’s or the Tiki Bar had to be cancelled. Instead we had to drive all the way to the other side of the bridge before we found a gas station with power where we could buy beer.
And buy beer we did.
Last night, among other things, I:
— Had a fabulous extended conversation about flip-flops with the most articulate three-year-old I’ve ever met
— Ate elk meat
— Was told by an extremely cool 14 year old that I am, and I quote, “the coolest friend Suz has ever brought over to the house.” Rock on with your bad self, Caleb.
— Got into an argument about NASCAR. And let me add that my side of the argument was something like “Who really gives a shit what kind of car he’s driving?” and “Yeah, I totally don’t care.”
— Lost my sunglasses, dammit, and they were really cool.
— Drank about a million beers. Okay, not so out-of-character, there, but I also-
— Drank moonshine. Kind of a lot of it. Which was probably my downfall.
— Sang along really loudly to a bunch of country songs I didn’t know, often making up the lyrics as I went along
— Got really offended when one guy put on Bon Jovi and no one wanted to listen to it except that guy and me.
— Went on a drunk-dialing spree. Actually, that’s not so out-of-character either.
— Made plans to go skinny-dipping in the lake with Suz about ten minutes before I passed out cold in some random chair, which is where I woke up a few hours ago.
About the drunk-dialing – usually I drunk-dial someone when I’ve been drinking a lot. It tends to be Frank, who is incredibly patient about the whole thing. Last night, however, I drunk-dialed THREE people. It was all borne out of this bizarrely intense love-for-everyone thing I was doing, and also, probably the moonshine. So.
I had a desperate urge to call Frank and tell him I loved him (which is not really as sentimental as it sounds, because I was pretty much loving everyone right about then). But my cell phone was about to die. So I said I was going to the car to plug it in and everyone freaked out because they thought I was going to drive and I was like are you kidding me? I’m way too smashed to drive, don’t worry. So I went to the car and tried to call Frank and got his answering machine, where I left some sort of message that I totally don’t remember, but desperately hope didn’t include the words “I love you,” as he has a girlfriend who likes to stay at his place, like girlfriends tend to do.
So. 0 for 1 on the drunk-dialing. But I really, REALLY felt like I needed to talk to someone. So…yeesh…I tried to call The Ex. The Ex, the worst boyfriend I ever had, who fucked me up pretty badly, to whom I haven’t spoken in a couple of years. I cannot possibly tell you how I remembered his number, but I did. Luckily, he didn’t pick up and there was no answering machine for me to make an asshole of myself with.
0 for 2. But I wasn’t done yet.
So then I drunk-dialed the guy with the crazy girlfriend. I’d hang my head in shame if it weren’t in danger of breaking off. He also didn’t pick up, and I left some sort of message on his voice mail as well.
Total: 0 for 3. The only reason it wasn’t higher is because I couldn’t think of anyone else to call. And I really would have called pretty much anyone I had a number for, except my immediate family.
Gah. I went back to the house, drank a little more, sang a little more, made plans to go skinny-dipping and conked out.
I feel a little guilty, though, because this morning I crept out of there at 8:00 a.m. when everyone else was still asleep. I’m really bad about that. Whenever I crash at someone else’s place, I always wake up really early and can’t go back to sleep, and then I get really uncomfortable hanging around in someone else’s house so if I can, I usually leave. I’m very one-night-stand about the whole thing, and I suppose it’s not really polite, but today’s drive of shame was also fueled by the fact that I’m feeling pretty poopy and didn’t want to be sick in someone else’s house.
So now I’m going to get a little more sleep and try to ingest some food. What I really need is some greasy Burger King. Maybe I’ll work on that later.