February 27, 2012

• Gina Jones and who knows who
  

    I had a phone interview for the job that has a lower rank and salary.  I killed it (I should) and was set up with an in-person interview (this will happen tomorrow).  I'm not blaming this, but just trying to set the stage for the weekend; flailing desperation.

  Thursday night was a girl's night out / farewell party for a friend, 'Miss V' from the flower shop of days gone by. 

  

  We started out at sushi and graduated to Munnegin's, the bar where Miss V works.

  

  
  I sang karaoke, had fun and became progressively drunker until someone in the group suggested we have one more before we call it quits.  "A White Russian!" I shout.

  Instead of coming back with 3 normal sized cocktails, we were presented with this:
  
  A GIANT pitcher of White Russian (me with one of Miss V's friend's boyfriends, who incidentally was made to pick up the tab for the entire night, sucker)

  The last thing I remember before I blacked out was picking on some cute guy by offering mean and unsolicited advise.
  "Why would you wear those pants out?"
  "Why are you smoking?  Is anyone stupid enough to start this habit?  really??"
  "What are you drinking, a Bud Light?  Are you serious?  You realize that is like the Wal-Mart of beer, right?  Do you hate good beer and America?"
  "What is your job--fabrication!?  Fabricating what?  Lies??" 
  "No, what you need to do is stop smoking, get a better job and help your grandma out with the rent!"
  ____________

  When I woke up to my alarm Friday morning, I was fully clothed, wreaked of smoke, unable to speak and in absolute pain.  I showered and emailed into work with laryngitis.  As I laid on the couch, I could not understand why, even I, would drink so much.  Nor could I remember how I got home.  I was too embarrassed to ask Kyohei, so I didn't.

  When he got up and came over to me in my miserable state and said,
  
  "You!  You are the opposite of a Japanese wife-- you are a Japanese husband!!"

  Then I got a text from Mandy-- "Did I tell you we have a ticket for you for La Cage Aux Folles tonight?  Can you still make it?" 

  Technically, I wasn't at work, so I could leave early and make it down to Tampa, but could I?  Seeing an amazing musical was enough to get me to rally.  By 3pm, I was re-showered, dressed, packed, on the road and managed not to throw-up.  Rock Star!

  
  Worth it; a fabulous show and good times with my friend.

  
  I even got a funny t-shirt

  __________________________________

  I slept over there, and was back on the road to the flower shop Saturday morning.

  I actually did a lot of physical labor at the shop.  I couldn't decide whether I was coming down with a cold or not, so I tried to take a nap.

  
  Later, Buket and I rallied and went downtown to a bar.  I told her that tonight I really needed to drink in moderation (why not try something new?).  Then she informed me that this was the night she was taking me out as a thank-you for doing her taxes.  Damn.  Moderation = 6 beers.  Not tooooo bad, but definitely not what I would call moderation. 

  Sunday found me laying on the couch again.  alas.

  • 3:49 pm
  • 6 Comments