What is it that I do to myself? I must have finally turned into someone I really dislike when what happened this morning does not really surprise me all that much.
First, I wake up, startled to be in bed, at 10:30ish. The last thing I remember is walking across the bar somewhere around 3am toward my brother sitting on the other end. I hate when I am startled to find myself at home. I hate it.
Upon further inspection, I realize that my room is rather tidy. In fact, my clothes are not strewn about haphazardly and I've pointed the fan at myself before sleeping to combat the wretched New York City mugginess that threatens to cosume me with its evil. What's more is that I've actually taken out my contacts, something I almost never do when I go to sleep NORMALLY. Imagine my surprise.
I also realize that the friend who is in town visiting me and who is supposed to be sleeping on my floor is not there. So, with the usual self-loathing reserved for mornings like this, I wonder is he made it home and if he was alright. He definitely had nowhere else to go and a plane back to San Francisco to catch today.
I lay in bed for another hour or two before I get up and brush my teeth. My brother is up also, and comes up to my room. I aks him about what happened last night and whether or not I was the asshole I suspected I had been. He tells me that I was very polite and said goodbye to everyone before bowing out and going home.
And I say, "Yeah, I'm a pretty polite drunk when I'm blacked out." It took a full ten or fifteen seconds for that statement's magnitude to sink into my alcohol addled brain. Why the FUCK do I know that? Do regular people know how they act when they black out? Do regular people black out often enough to have behavioral precedent to establish such a pattern?
Jesus fucking Christ.
I was glad, however, to know that I was not an asshole like I was at the Poison the Well/Candiria show last week.
Bah.
So, I spent the entire day today hanging out with my brother and two friends watching movies. We went through Len, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Desperado, The Big Lebowski and Donnie Darko, the last of which I purchased this very night around the corner at Kim's Video. "Productive" was the idea for the day and well lived up to it was.
God, I love Donnie Darko. What a fantastic fucking film that is.
I think I'm going to become a priest.
First, I wake up, startled to be in bed, at 10:30ish. The last thing I remember is walking across the bar somewhere around 3am toward my brother sitting on the other end. I hate when I am startled to find myself at home. I hate it.
Upon further inspection, I realize that my room is rather tidy. In fact, my clothes are not strewn about haphazardly and I've pointed the fan at myself before sleeping to combat the wretched New York City mugginess that threatens to cosume me with its evil. What's more is that I've actually taken out my contacts, something I almost never do when I go to sleep NORMALLY. Imagine my surprise.
I also realize that the friend who is in town visiting me and who is supposed to be sleeping on my floor is not there. So, with the usual self-loathing reserved for mornings like this, I wonder is he made it home and if he was alright. He definitely had nowhere else to go and a plane back to San Francisco to catch today.
I lay in bed for another hour or two before I get up and brush my teeth. My brother is up also, and comes up to my room. I aks him about what happened last night and whether or not I was the asshole I suspected I had been. He tells me that I was very polite and said goodbye to everyone before bowing out and going home.
And I say, "Yeah, I'm a pretty polite drunk when I'm blacked out." It took a full ten or fifteen seconds for that statement's magnitude to sink into my alcohol addled brain. Why the FUCK do I know that? Do regular people know how they act when they black out? Do regular people black out often enough to have behavioral precedent to establish such a pattern?
Jesus fucking Christ.
I was glad, however, to know that I was not an asshole like I was at the Poison the Well/Candiria show last week.
Bah.
So, I spent the entire day today hanging out with my brother and two friends watching movies. We went through Len, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Desperado, The Big Lebowski and Donnie Darko, the last of which I purchased this very night around the corner at Kim's Video. "Productive" was the idea for the day and well lived up to it was.
God, I love Donnie Darko. What a fantastic fucking film that is.
I think I'm going to become a priest.
Though I wonder how much it would take to get to that state.
Perhaps you should figure out if there is a point in which it happens...like one beer more and your gone...then you can cut off for a bit =P
Then again...Your the Banana Pope and rule all
*Bows*