So, Mom is doing much better. She went home today, and I think she’ll make it. It was a very difficult, sometimes scary, three weeks [and almost six weeks for mom] but she’s doing so much better. My dad is going to have to learn how to change her dressings [wounds still draining… yuck!] But I know he can handle it.
As for me, I’m sitting here at my new computer, jamming out to Metallica [black album… which is the only one I like, but damn, it’s awesome!] Unforgiven is playing right now. I can’t help but headbang to it. Strange phenomenon, but there you go.
I just did a Netflix instant view [of Heroes, season 2, episode 1, which I’ve had to miss because Dish Network sucks and can’t get locals for me…. bastards].
Holy Crapoli! This monitor is HD, and it’s amazing the stuff you can see! I could see the pores on the actors’ faces, the texture of Claire’s hair. Damn.
The most amazing thing, though is that it streams in with no jumps or misses, and I can actually see the freaking picture… no more black!
Yeah, so you didn’t come here to hear that, did you? Well, I didn’t come here to tell you that, either. Actually, I have no idea what I came here to say, only that I had the urge.
I got drunk Friday night. Ugh. I’m too old for that shit. I only blew a .031 [.08 is too drunk to drive. I think I would die of alcohol poisoning at .08] but I was massively impaired. Steve has the coolest party favor ever, a PBT which checks your breath for alcohol [which is what I was talking about when I said “Blew” jeez, get yer mind out of the gutter!]
He also did the horizontal gaze nystagmus test, which I failed miserably.
Then I puked in the toilet at a stranger’s house. I missed, and sat in it, so my jeans had pink Spoli puke on the leg, but I didn’t care. Steve held my hair, ’cause that’s the sweet kind of man that he is. Then he helped me home, helped me get my shoes off. I don’t remember if I changed into sweats or not, but I think I slept in all my clothes.
I dunno. Maybe I slept all night in pukey jeans? Hang on, lemme ask Steve.
Nope, he helped me put some sweats on. I remember waking up with them on, but I don’t remember putting them on. I do know that I was seeing double, so I closed one eye to look at people. It was a costume party. We didn’t dress up, but I should have gone as a pirate. The eyepatch would have come in handy.
Yeah, so anyway. Steve was a sweetie, but he likes it when I’m tipsy ’cause I get a little frisky. I was kissing him a lot at the party. So I guess he was happy to hold my hair back while I put my face in the toilet of people I wouldn’t recognize if I met on the street today, and puked until my socks came up.
Yeah, so I was hung over bad most of the day yesterday. My mom and dad thought it was pretty funny. Assholes. I didn’t throw up anymore after Friday night, but only ’cause I was drugged up on Dramamine and Excedrin and Advil. Yes, I killed my liver after I pickled it, but I was miserable.
I think I went to the party dehydrated, and then they had this grain alcohol stuff that made me buzz after one glass… and then I had three more glasses, plus a jell-o shot. So anyway, I think maybe I’m too old to party on a regular basis.
I should have stopped after I was buzzing instead of going on to full fledged drunk, but oh well.
I didn’t come here to tell you that, either, but what the hell.
See ya later.