Day Drinking

My life is hilarious. I had all these grand plans to get so much done today, and they just never played out.

First of all, Jude and I went to see Ted Leo and the Pharmacists last night. It was an amazing show, so full of energy and so genuine. There were two belligerent frat boys bouncing around, drinking something straight out of the battle and fist pumping in people's faces, and Ted actually stopped the show to tell the crowd to even out the dynamic. "They're just dancing," he said. I've got to learn to see things that way. And I danced until my whole body hurt. Until we needed a drink to dull our senses and stagger gently home.

So this morning at 7 when my alarm went off, I just rolled over and back into my dreams. (And for lucid dreaming purposes, I dreamed up some incredible imagery involving the aurora borealis and cloud sculpture.) It was well past 11 by the time I made it into the sunlight, cringing like a vampire into the shade. I missed the job search talk I meant to be at by a long shot, then got a call from Nick about day drinking, and figured the day was already shot, so why not?

And it only took us about two hours to get completely wasted. Margaritas at Copa Banana are only 5 dollars on Thursdays, and they give you a pint! What were we supposed to do? 5 o'clock is a new record for me, okay. I don't even really remember where I met back up with Jude, but apparently I (physically) ran into him a few times, probably embarrassed him publicly, and got sick all over the sidewalk at his favorite cafe. I have no idea why he puts up with me. I passed out at his house, woke up still drunk at 10 minutes to Quizzo and ran off like an ungrateful little jerk, but I eventually met up with my friends, and we killed it. We're in a tournament, and it sounds like we're gonna win. I had to drink soda for the rest of the night, though, and I'm still coming down to sober planet as I lay here watching ABDC and savoring the sensation of my brain melting down and dripping out of my ears.

I've been thinking about my plan to rebuild, and I've decided that I'm gonna spend the summer cultivating my atrophied sense of creativity. Writing new stories, doing independent study and research, finally getting around to that web comic I've been saying I'm gonna for years, learning to take better pictures and shoot film, and most obviously, blogging. I wonder if the way I write is interesting, entertaining, funny, intelligent. If I'm going to go through with my great plans, I've got to learn to how to make the memories stick. I've got friendships to build and to buttress. Expect a lot of day drinking, experimental tripping, barely believable stories, and wild adventures. I'm already making plans.

And on that note, I have a reveal to make. I got accepted to a program, and I'll be spending three weeks in California this summer, but I'm not allowed to (publicly) tell any more than that until everyone else gets their decision letters. Details will be forthcoming.