Postage Stamps are Bad Luck

Okay, so I know I've been slacking on this blog and while there is never an excuse for slacking I would just like to say that my reasons are as follows:

1.) Some jealous chick who apparently has nothing better to do with her time than stalk me on the internet and try to ruin my life by telling my non-boyfriend that I am cheating on him and spreading my blog links around the office got a hold of not only this blog but my personal one as well. I'm not really upset her reading and subjecting everybody else to reading the content of my personal blog but what I'm more upset about is the name of the blog. I really hate the name of that blog. It was really lame and I'm slightly embarrassed by it.

So the whole point is, that I left this blog open to "invitees" only and thats really no fun, thus I had no motivation to update. But alas, I digress and wonder why I pretended to give a shit when in theory, I don't give a shit about much nor do I have anything to hide. However; I think I did offend one of the readers of this blog and while she was not meant to read it, it was not my intent to offend anybody and I apologize in advance if I do. Please, if you find yourself referenced with a nickname, Don't.Get.Offended. I honestly mean no harm. The nicknames are good fun-loving humorous nicknames which may or may not play on peoples' flaws. The fact of the matter is, we all have flaws and they are funny. For example, I have one huge ear and it is not rolled in on the edges...you know what I mean how normal ears kind of curl in, yea mine doesn't do that. I also have a point on the tip of my nose and despite doing hundreds of sit-ups every other day, my belly still jiggles. I also have an excessive drinking problem. Please feel free to come up with creative nicknames.

2.) I believe I am beginning to run out of stories (gasp). I mean, there definitely has not been a lack of alcohol consumption in combination with idiotic decisions I decide to make. I guess the real problem is that when excessive alcohol consumption becomes a way of life, one (such as myself) might start to get confused as to whether their behavior is actually funny or if it has crossed the line into common (and thus unfunny) everyday behavior. For example:

A couple of weeks ago I was out with my Chicas from Alexendria. Chicas doesn't mean they are Hispanic, just a general term I was using for "girls", but that's neither here nor there. Anyway, I drank about 1/4 bottle of vodka with a splash of cranberry on my back porch while eaves dropping and trying to get a good glance at the boys next door before I left. I like to think that pre-gaming saves me money but in actuality, it just gets me more drunk.

So I meet them in Clarendon and we have a pretty eventless night. Fun, but eventless. I mean, the drama for the night was that we got followed around by a group of degenerate boys and were forced to leave the bar because they had crossed that line between stage 10 creepers and straight out stalkers. I think they rufied our drinks too. After that is when my memory gets a little foggy. I know this because I have pictures that I don't remember taking to prove it...honestly, no recollection of the photo in my camera of my 2 friends with some boys that apparently were friends of one of my friends. Man I'm an asshole. What I do remember though, and where I must have 'come to' (if you will) is gracefully tripping out of the metro train and vomiting on the platform. This has become somewhat of a tradition for me if you've read this blog from the beginning. I believe I was at the Smithsonian Metro Stop when this happened, because I remember thinking, "Thank God I'm close to home and way to chrissen our nations capital with your barf...stay classy A, stay classy."

After demonstrating my fascinating upchuck reflex to any lucky winner who happened to be standing on the platform at that moment, I got on the next train and apparently passed out. I vaguely remember trying to keep my eyes open and noticing a homely looking older couple gazing at me in disgust. I hate to break it to you Pops, but your daughter is out doing the same thing right now...well, maybe not.

The next thing I remember, I'm waking up. I can't recall if I just woke up on my own or if the metro police or whatever they are had to wake me up because:
A.) We were at the end of the orange line (I couldn't remember which line I was on until days later my friend solved the mystery by reminding me that only the orange line runs through Clarendon. Thank-you Cornwad) or
B.) It was 3:00 in the morning and the metro had stopped running.

I believe it was the latter but probably a combination of both. So, I stumble off the metro and I remember being extremely offended that the metro police helped some fat black lady but didn't help me. I couldn't figure this out but it COULD have been that I reeked of vodka and cranberry scented puke. Well luckily, there was a cab waiting outside of the metro who offered to take me home but he immediately demanded $20 when I slopped myself into the cab. This was the first time in my life that I was so drunk that I had to put my cab ride on layaway. Let me tell you that a $25 cab ride is the longest cab ride in the world. My head felt so heavy that I'm shocked it didn't fall off my neck. But alas, I got home and apparently paid the cabbie, took whatever cash I had left (about $20), put it in my purse and left my wallet including everything in it the cab. This would include my credit cards, I.D., military I.D., Insurance Card and checkbook. It really sucked losing all that stuff but what really got me was the postage stamps in there. I had at least a half a book left. Man I hate buying those things.

Funny? Or another "typical life in the day of..."? I just don't know.