January 2, 2009

So I had two choices for my New Years carousing.  I could have gone up to North Jersey with Sean and Carly, to some masqued ball thinger with a bunch of creepy Sean-friends who I don't know.  That, or I could have gone to my friend Morgan's house for Wii fit, board games and good beer with Star Wars geeks (who are wonderful).

I opted for the latter.

And then I drank a bottle of wine.  Bad move.

Surprisingly, I didn't barf.  I certainly thought I was going to… and in fact stumbled outside to do my business in the wind.

(Aside: I'm weird about puking… generally speaking, I'm a miserable, whining baby when it comes to anything barfy.  I make a huge production of it all, and I implore the heavens into the bowl between heaves, "Uuurraaagh… <pant, pant> ooooh God… Ooooh sweet merciful Chriii–aaaaaarrraaughala… <spit>"  It isn't pretty.  But when I'm around other people, which is really rare as I never get really drunk like ever, I feel this odd sense of shame about it all.  I'm like a sick old dog… I find a quiet place to curl up and die.  I can't be touched, can't even be noticed… I just shuffle into the darkness to vomit and weep to myself.  I'm so fucking strange.)

So I stumble outside into a wall of cold air that felt like a million frozen knives on my face, and am amazed to discover that the barfiness I had been enduring completely disappeared.  I didn't barf!  Aren't you so happy you're reading this?  It's strange, too… because I was totally about to.  Like really.  It wasn't one of those, "Ugh, I feel sick to my stomach," things… this was your hardcore, mouthful of mucus, throat's opening up in the back, pulse pounding on the back of your eyeballs prebarf.  And then boom… wall of cold wind… nothing happened.

I wandered around in the dark for a while.  Morgan lives in the middle of nowhere (naturally), and so I traipsed through a frozen field under the stars… spinning around and thinking about the year that had gone by.  I won't be lame and share my thoughts with you.  Most were good.  Some were sad.  One or two contained a few well-chosen fuck yous.  All in all… I'm a very happy pokeman right now. 

I sobered up fast, like I usually do… and ended up driving home (sober, mind you) at about 4:30 in the morning.  I made myself a bowl of ramen and fell asleep to the sound of Frasier on my TV.  Can't think of a better way to ring in the New Year.

Woke up today without even the hint of a hangover.  I have no idea how I do it.  I drank entirely too much wine last night, and was totally fine today.

Jamie came over tonight, and we drank wine (again!) and giggled and spoke in funny voices.  We talked about big life stuff, and then we brainstormed some of our novel (which is so damn cool, I want to die), and wrapped up the night with sky-colored jackets and Asperger's popcorn.

All in all, I'm a pretty awesome bit of fancy over here.  Writing's going well… tons of Star Trek to watch… didn't barf.

2009 fucking rules.


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