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

“You've told me all this stuff in your life that you are doing wrong. What do you feel that you are doing right?”

Long pause as Jenna's face contorts and brow furrows in thought.

“That's not supposed to be a hard question to answer.”

Went to Tastyworld on Friday with the Ab and Richard and saw my good friends in the Outfit, who pretty much always rock my ass off.

Saturday went over to Maggs' house for a par-tay. Maggie and Leigh are very gracious hostesses and I had a fabulous time, although I think I've given up Southern Comfort for good. It's just far too sweet. Also, it conjures up bad memories for my stomach.

Came home Sunday morning, took a shower, and made myself a sizable breakfast. Sat down in front of the tv and ate, then I rested my poor head which was unhappy about having slept on the floor of Maggie's house, and accidentally fell asleep. For six hours. What are you gonna do, really?

Got up, made dinner, then brownies, then hung out with my peeps, drank a beer and went to bed. Couldn't really sleep so I was mostly there symbolically so that was something.

Next thing I know, Maggie's calling me because it's time to go shopping, and off to the mall we went, where thanks to some lucrative coupons I got $200 worth of clothes for $100. And an awesome purse. And some pimp-tastic sunglasses with pink rhinestones on them.

Abie-inspired “pimpin' ain't easy” series

Time with Maggs + Pink sunglasses = a fabulous way to start your week.

Last night was my friend Richard's 21st birthday.

Although I “really didn't seem that drunk at all” last night, today I got much use out of the hangover kit Melissa gave me for my 21st birthday last week, and spent a large part of the afternoon sitting in a hot bath eating crackers and sipping spring water.

I got out and slept in the living room for a long time, then went out to dinner with my parents, who quickly figured out why I was asleep everytime they called.

“Were you out all night?”

“No, I just don't feel very well.”

“Are you hungover?”

“What time are you guys getting here?”

“We're on our way downtown right now. Are you hungover?”

“Yes.”

“Do you still want to come have dinner with us?”

“Yes, yes, I'm fine.”

“Where were you last night?”

“My friend Richard's birthday party.”

“Oh. What—”

“Mom, I'm putting on my shoes and coming downstairs right now, okay?”

I get in the car with Mom, Dad, and Uncle David, and I have to detail what I was drinking (Southern Comfort) and what I mixed it with (cranberry juice). Then they all proceeded to faux-lecture me on the dangers of sweet drinks for giving one hangovers.

However, it was less about scolding me and more about living through me vicariously. And, there is always this gem of parental wisdom:

“If you had been smoking pot, you know, you wouldn't be hungover.”

Thanks, Dad.

Mom wanted to buy me a beer when we were out to dinner, and when I expressed a complete lack of desire to drink anything but water, I was assaulted by several exclamations of “Hair of the dog that bit ya!”, the idea that actually drinking more alcohol helps to get rid of hangovers. While I know this is based on some very sound anecdotal evidence, I myself pretty much see it as a get-back-on-the-horse mantra for alcoholics.

And like the t-shirt says: I'm not an alcoholic, I'm a professional drunk. Alcoholics go to meetings.