Jenna's House of Idiosyncrasies Version 10.0 [Focus.]

I have a deadline I have to meet tomorrow morning, but I thought I would take a second to upload some backlogged photos to flickr, just to get them online. In the process of creating the tags, I somehow ended up spending more than half an hour looking for a synonym of “voyeur” with a nonsexual connotation.

I am a world-class procrastinator.

I ended up going with “spy” but I don't like it. It's too dry, not scandalous enough. On the other hand, while I can use words like “voyeur” in prose and can be mostly confident the context will prevail, I don't think I should be tagging photos with a word that brings up nothing but adult content in a google search. Just saying.

Overall, I had a really good birthday. I got literarily dozens of calls, text messages, and emails wishing me well. I got several “Happy Birthday” posts on my Facebook wall, even though I don't publish my birthday on Facebook. I couldn't get any work done, but at least I felt loved.

I put in my contacts, put on makeup and a nice shirt, and went to a birthday dinner with Emily, Melissa and Greg. Then we slowly made our way to Barcode.

And lo, this is where the trouble started.

Thanks to my generous friends, I consumed five drinks, including several shots, within the hour. By eleven o'clock the number was at about ten. After that I stopped keeping count.

The thing is, I wasn't trashed. I was drunk, I'll admit, making me more chatty, more bouncey, and a little dumber than usual, but I wasn't falling over. I remember most of the evening pretty clearly. Until about half past one am.

Then, in my memory, there is nothing. Nothing at all until Stephanie grabbed me and pulled me over to her car, which was parked across the street. (That was about half past two. I think).I remember getting out of the car, waving goodbye, and walking into my building. I don't even remember making it to my apartment door.

Next thing I know, it's mid-morning, and I'm naked, cold, and still drunk.

Yesterday I got the idea that I should take a picture of myself everytime I went to the ladies room at Barcode. Sort of like a drunken diary of progression. I thought it would be funny, and would give me something to write about.

But then, one thing lead to another, and between schmoozing with everybody that showed up and slamming down shot after shot, I mostly forgot about it, and only managed to get one picture, at about 11:30:

Well, that's what I thought, anyway. Read More »

Good morning all! I am, in fact, still drunk from my escapades last night. I woke up about an hour ago on top of the covers on my bed, not being able to remember anything after Steph drove me home. Clearly, I got all the way inside my apartment (good) and spent the rest of the night alone (doubly good, considering). I woke up wearing just my bra, underwear and a camisole that I had been wearing under my clothes, makeup still on, across the width of my bed with my legs hanging off. And freezing.

I could, theoretically, have gotten into a little more trouble last night. It would have made a better story (assuming I could remember anything), but overall, I think I'm happy with the way things turned out. I think.

I didn't expect to wake up still drunk. I expected to wake up desiring to cut off my own head to stave off the pain. So that's good too.

If you don't mind, I'm going back to bed now.

24 years ago today, I came into this world. With me, I brought grumpiness completely incongruent with whatever situation is at hand.

My years of training as wallflower patient observer (before transforming into a social butterfly) have suddenly yielded a fantastic accomplishment. My “overheard” has been published on that bastion of Classic City culture, Overheard in Athens.

Drunk girl 1: She's carrying a hairbrush in her purse! I can't believe you carry a hairbrush in your purse!
Drunk girl 2: Doesn't everybody carry a hairbrush in their purse?
Drunk girl 1: Not me!
Drunk girl 2: Well, what do you carry in your purse? A flask of vodka and a pregnancy test?

Linky-link-link to the page, completely with clever title I can take no credit for.