Ringing in the New Year

2Jan/100

I don't know why I'm up right now. I got home last "night" at 4:30 int he morning completely hammered and was hoping to sleep until 3 in the afternoon. I put on an episode of The Wire and watched it til I fell asleep. My body betrayed me though, and decided 6 hours of sleep was enough so I woke up at 11. Alcohol is seeping through my pores and my breath is the ungodly combination of kick ass morning breath and alcohol.

Do people shower when they get home all sloshed? It's a coin toss for me. Sometimes I'll decide that I need to and other times I just plop right into bed.

I went to a wine bar last night to celebrate a friend's birthday. Mostly these were friends from high school who I see on very rare occasions. I'm not even sure how I got so fucking trashed because I can count the number of drinks on one hand. Started off with a beer, then a glass of chadonnay followed by two more glasses of pinot noir. The funny part of it all was people were going all "oh fancy schmancy, drinking wine and all!" But really, I've been to similar places before . . . wine bars, champagne bars, and I never order wine or champagne. It's like going to a steak house and getting pork chops.

I imagine I looked like some kind of wine snob last night, poring over the wine menu. But really what was going through my head as I was reading each menu selection carefully was "how the fuck do you interpret these fucking wine descriptions?" I mean seriously, I have no idea what a full body is or a long finish. I ended up starting with a glass of chardonnay because I guess the description was appealing. Fragrances of peach and pineapple. How can you not like that?

I followed up with two glasses of red wine. As I was drinking I kept looking back at the menu to see if I could taste or smell whatever the hell the description on the menu said. What ended up happening though was me getting frustrated and then saying fuck it, so I just started pounding down the wine like I was in college.

Wine kicks like a mule. At the end of the night I couldn't believe how trashed I was from the 4 drinks I had. After going through three calls for cab service, I was finally able to find one that was willing to drive me back to Brooklyn. I'm just grateful I still had enough composure to not let myself go. The whole ride back I was thinking "please don't paint this car with vomit, hold it in!"

Anyway, this is the end of my "look at me! look how drunk I got last night!" story.