misskate

i just had the most relaxing and retreated weekend in months. i didnt do a hell of a lot. part of this was because of going to the bar on friday. i know i bought 3 drinks... but when my memory started coming back in bits over the next day, the total rose to 16. here's the type of drunk i am: 5 drinks means i'm quite happy, i ususally stop here. 10 drinks means i'm falling over, laughing hystericly, being an ass. 15 means i'm falling under the table, flirting with everyone, lose memory and ability to speak in any mildly intelligent manner. 16 drinks, i am all those things plus being sick.

i hadnt gotten sick from being drunk since i was 16. i learned my limits and i stuck to them. but friday was a lot different. boys were buying me drinks, pouring me drinks, being fun... oh man. had one blatant proposition but i turned it down as my friend was interested in him. and that's just not good gravy! i think they hit it off for the rest of the night anyway.

i knew by about 15 minutes after last call that i was going to be ill. good thing? home is upstairs. so i went up there with the girls, they got their things and headed out, then i stuck myself on the floor in the bathroom. at some point i called shawn, my ex-common-law-type, as he had asked me to. he came over to take care of me, without even having to ask.

ok. so. who has money and wants to buy me some lingerie? coz i'm poor.