Well, THAT didn't take long...
After a few days of hanging out and falling for each other all over again, Terry and I are back together.
Yeah. Shut it.
We are in love. We have issues. Who the fuck doesn't?
I'm going to fucking marry this man one day.
Anyhow. Went and picked him up from his parents' Wednesday night. Stopped by John and Dave's, drank a bunch. Wound up coming back here and passing out at like 8am. Went back over to John and Dave's at like 5pm so Terry and John could have a little jam session. Drank a bunch more. Had another long talk and got back together. Came back here and passed out. Took Terry into Stanwood at 2 to meet up with Shawn and Dan. Went to work from 3-9:30, went back to the Hotel, then got annihilated at Dan's apartment and made Mike come over. HEH! Passed out at around 4am, woke up for work at 9:26am, worked 10-2, stopped by the party hoose after Kyle called and told me it was LoveBen's birthday. Got hammered, tried to get a hold of Terry but couldn't 'cause his phone is dead, got bored and came home.
Wooo. Last day of work tomorrow. I'm excited. And I'm waiting on one more W-2 form to come and then I can file my motherfucking tax return. YESSS! I can't believe I effing worked at three jobs last year. Heh!
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Oh, drama.
Every night seems to get more and more interesting.
Last night Justin, Doom and I picked up a couple bitch beers and went and hung out at Don's apartment in Everett, which we were only allowed to do because he and Jessi just broke up and she was out. If you can believe that shit. This 18-year old bitch wouldn't ALLOW him to talk to any of his exes, or even his friends. So we hang out, watch some tv, listen to some music until around 9:30. We had to get back to Dave's place before he got off work because we left his door unlocked. Heh. But I decide I don't wanna stay at Dave's 'cause he's been getting more creepy at an increasing rate.
Example. When I brought Terry over there the other night, Dave kept repeating to me OVER AND OVER, "Bre, let's just be friends and keep it that way."
Ummm... isn't that EXACTLY what we've been doing for the past 5 years or so? Haven't I been having to keep telling this guy to stop fucking smacking my ass and yelling at him when he tries to cuddle with me after I've had too much to drink? I have NO fucking interest in this guy and never will. The way he kept saying that in front of Terry made it look like I've been trying to get down Dave's pants or something. VERY creepy.
ANYHOW. Heh! So I drive back over to Don's, call him to let him know I'm close by and discover that Jessi is back in the house. He STILL has to sneak the fuck out so we can go somewhere else. We wind up at Kevin and Kristen's house in Lake Stevens where everything was chill at first and then some drama I still haven't fully grasped broke out between Kevin and his ex and we had to take him back over to Don's place. GUH. So I drop them off and go home.
Insane.
Then! I wake up today to a call from my Ashley. We're gonna party it up this weekend at her dad's house in Oso. Awwww yeahhhh.
Last night Justin, Doom and I picked up a couple bitch beers and went and hung out at Don's apartment in Everett, which we were only allowed to do because he and Jessi just broke up and she was out. If you can believe that shit. This 18-year old bitch wouldn't ALLOW him to talk to any of his exes, or even his friends. So we hang out, watch some tv, listen to some music until around 9:30. We had to get back to Dave's place before he got off work because we left his door unlocked. Heh. But I decide I don't wanna stay at Dave's 'cause he's been getting more creepy at an increasing rate.
Example. When I brought Terry over there the other night, Dave kept repeating to me OVER AND OVER, "Bre, let's just be friends and keep it that way."
Ummm... isn't that EXACTLY what we've been doing for the past 5 years or so? Haven't I been having to keep telling this guy to stop fucking smacking my ass and yelling at him when he tries to cuddle with me after I've had too much to drink? I have NO fucking interest in this guy and never will. The way he kept saying that in front of Terry made it look like I've been trying to get down Dave's pants or something. VERY creepy.
ANYHOW. Heh! So I drive back over to Don's, call him to let him know I'm close by and discover that Jessi is back in the house. He STILL has to sneak the fuck out so we can go somewhere else. We wind up at Kevin and Kristen's house in Lake Stevens where everything was chill at first and then some drama I still haven't fully grasped broke out between Kevin and his ex and we had to take him back over to Don's place. GUH. So I drop them off and go home.
Insane.
Then! I wake up today to a call from my Ashley. We're gonna party it up this weekend at her dad's house in Oso. Awwww yeahhhh.
Monday, January 26, 2009
You're probably right this time, but I don't even care.
Tonight was a bust.
Got a call from Terry around 9. Took a shower, headed over to his parents' house (where he's currently living because Ryan and Crystal's lease is up next month) and we watched some tv and he played me some guitar. I decide I'm famished and am going to B'fish to grab some food and AMPM so I can pick up some Rockstars and smokes for Terry. Go run my errands, and I'm almost halfway back to his house when he calls and says his dad doesn't want anyone over.
We're too fucking old for this shit. I swear to christ. I understand it's his dad's house and all, but we weren't even going to leave Terry's room.
I dunno. Maybe I'm just spoiled in that respect 'cause mom and Terry don't usually give a shit who's over here so long as they're quiet. But then again, I don't usually have people over because I don't even have a bedroom.
And now I want to reflect on some bullshit. Heh. So Terry and I were watching this episode of King of Queens where dude is obsessed with finding out why his co-worker doesn't seem to like him, and his wife is doing the same thing, but no one at her work likes her. The whole episode revolved around this 'dilemma'.
I started thinking... are people really like that? Are people really consumed with shit like that? Is there something wrong with me because I don't think about stuff like that... EVER? Is that what 'normal' people stress about? Am I selfish because I don't care what other people think of me, or am I selfish because I only think about myself? Am I an apathetic pile of shit because I don't relate to this mediocre sitcom? HEH! No, really. I seriously was thinking that. For the last couple hours.
But then I guess I'm more consumed with trying to figure out why I'm attempting to drink myself to death. And then that leading to a whole other string of thoughts that don't ever stop. And then bludgeoning the thoughts to death with a bottle of booze. And, ya know, trying to figure out why everyone I know is making more money than me in actual careers. Why I'm still sleeping on a couch after a year and a half. Why the love of my life doesn't love himself as much as I love him. WhyIdon't love myself as much as everyone else seems to. Do they really love me, or do they love me because I'm a doormat?
I hate my brain.
Eh. Fuck sitcoms. People who relate to sitcoms are the same people who take anything Oprah says as gospel.
...is this what Terry's talking about when he says his brain doesn't ever stop? Do I have that too, only I never realized it 'causemythought process is the only one I'll ever know? Have I always been this way?
I think I'm going crazy. I really, truly mean this. I keep thinking in circles. Acting in circles. The definition of insanity is repeating the same thing over and over and expecting different results. I've been doing that for years. I don't know what I'm doing, or even what I'm supposed to be doing.
I'm so fucking lost.
Got a call from Terry around 9. Took a shower, headed over to his parents' house (where he's currently living because Ryan and Crystal's lease is up next month) and we watched some tv and he played me some guitar. I decide I'm famished and am going to B'fish to grab some food and AMPM so I can pick up some Rockstars and smokes for Terry. Go run my errands, and I'm almost halfway back to his house when he calls and says his dad doesn't want anyone over.
We're too fucking old for this shit. I swear to christ. I understand it's his dad's house and all, but we weren't even going to leave Terry's room.
I dunno. Maybe I'm just spoiled in that respect 'cause mom and Terry don't usually give a shit who's over here so long as they're quiet. But then again, I don't usually have people over because I don't even have a bedroom.
And now I want to reflect on some bullshit. Heh. So Terry and I were watching this episode of King of Queens where dude is obsessed with finding out why his co-worker doesn't seem to like him, and his wife is doing the same thing, but no one at her work likes her. The whole episode revolved around this 'dilemma'.
I started thinking... are people really like that? Are people really consumed with shit like that? Is there something wrong with me because I don't think about stuff like that... EVER? Is that what 'normal' people stress about? Am I selfish because I don't care what other people think of me, or am I selfish because I only think about myself? Am I an apathetic pile of shit because I don't relate to this mediocre sitcom? HEH! No, really. I seriously was thinking that. For the last couple hours.
But then I guess I'm more consumed with trying to figure out why I'm attempting to drink myself to death. And then that leading to a whole other string of thoughts that don't ever stop. And then bludgeoning the thoughts to death with a bottle of booze. And, ya know, trying to figure out why everyone I know is making more money than me in actual careers. Why I'm still sleeping on a couch after a year and a half. Why the love of my life doesn't love himself as much as I love him. WhyIdon't love myself as much as everyone else seems to. Do they really love me, or do they love me because I'm a doormat?
I hate my brain.
Eh. Fuck sitcoms. People who relate to sitcoms are the same people who take anything Oprah says as gospel.
...is this what Terry's talking about when he says his brain doesn't ever stop? Do I have that too, only I never realized it 'causemythought process is the only one I'll ever know? Have I always been this way?
I think I'm going crazy. I really, truly mean this. I keep thinking in circles. Acting in circles. The definition of insanity is repeating the same thing over and over and expecting different results. I've been doing that for years. I don't know what I'm doing, or even what I'm supposed to be doing.
I'm so fucking lost.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Fucking kill me.
Terry called me last night so I could meet up with him to get all my shit he still had.
We wound up hanging out from like 9pm to 5:30am. Hit up some bars in Stanwood, stopped by a party for a moment, then headed back to Arlington to hang out at John and Dave's.
Drunkenness, music criticism, much talking, many tears and a lot more kisses.
But it's never going to work. We both know it. We're both way too deep in our own bullshit and too consumed with fighting our own demons to be able to give the other what they need in any capacity.
And just seeing him made me realize how pathetic and tragic my own life has become. Really. This binge-drinking and indiscriminate drug use needs to stop. Where the fuck am I going?
I feel like I'm going insane. I just want to fix us.
We wound up hanging out from like 9pm to 5:30am. Hit up some bars in Stanwood, stopped by a party for a moment, then headed back to Arlington to hang out at John and Dave's.
Drunkenness, music criticism, much talking, many tears and a lot more kisses.
But it's never going to work. We both know it. We're both way too deep in our own bullshit and too consumed with fighting our own demons to be able to give the other what they need in any capacity.
And just seeing him made me realize how pathetic and tragic my own life has become. Really. This binge-drinking and indiscriminate drug use needs to stop. Where the fuck am I going?
I feel like I'm going insane. I just want to fix us.
Monday, January 19, 2009
God, I'm fucked up.
I'm feeling super unhappy with my life at the moment. Not like, "OMG I wanna cut my wrists", but very, very unsatisfied. I'm not even sure how it got to this point.
1. I can't seem to stop drinking. When I come home, I'm fine. That's why I've been trying to stay here lately, but it really doesn't help that the party house is like five minutes away from my work. And after four beers all my problems go away for a little while.
2. When I drink, it's very easy for people to talk me into buying them shit. Beer, smokes, drugs, you name it. Or even letting them drive my car somewhere to go get it. I have under $10 to last me until Friday.
3. I keep doing drugs. I've taken bombs probably about 20 times in the last two months and I've done coke twice in the last week. I can't even count how many times I've smoked pot. And I won't get into the whole crushing up vicodin and snorting it thing...
4. I keep sleeping with someone who is completely unavailable and I'm growing more and more attached to him. I wouldn't say that I'm 'in love', but I am quite fond of him. It's a very, very nasty situation. I wish I could go more into this one, but I am really fucking ashamed of myself.
...I guess it really doesn't help that he strings me along and tells me he loves me and hints at 'the future'. I should be fucking smarter than this but my heart is retarded and gullible as shit and beats my brain into submission.
5. I keep thinking about Terry at the same time. I miss the fuck out of him, but I know when I call him he'll probe me about my life and he'll think I'm fucking tragic because he's completely sober now. Talk about a complete fucking role-reversal overnight.
I fucking hate this. The only thing I have to look forward to right now is my surgery, which should be happening within the next three weeks. Partly because I won't be in agony anymore and partly because I know I'm gonna be doped up on painkillers on my Gramma's couch for about a week afterward. Heh. But then after I get my dentures I'll feel beautiful again. I keep hoping that that's gonna change all this. I know it won't, but I keep thinking that.
How did all this happen so fast?
1. I can't seem to stop drinking. When I come home, I'm fine. That's why I've been trying to stay here lately, but it really doesn't help that the party house is like five minutes away from my work. And after four beers all my problems go away for a little while.
2. When I drink, it's very easy for people to talk me into buying them shit. Beer, smokes, drugs, you name it. Or even letting them drive my car somewhere to go get it. I have under $10 to last me until Friday.
3. I keep doing drugs. I've taken bombs probably about 20 times in the last two months and I've done coke twice in the last week. I can't even count how many times I've smoked pot. And I won't get into the whole crushing up vicodin and snorting it thing...
4. I keep sleeping with someone who is completely unavailable and I'm growing more and more attached to him. I wouldn't say that I'm 'in love', but I am quite fond of him. It's a very, very nasty situation. I wish I could go more into this one, but I am really fucking ashamed of myself.
...I guess it really doesn't help that he strings me along and tells me he loves me and hints at 'the future'. I should be fucking smarter than this but my heart is retarded and gullible as shit and beats my brain into submission.
5. I keep thinking about Terry at the same time. I miss the fuck out of him, but I know when I call him he'll probe me about my life and he'll think I'm fucking tragic because he's completely sober now. Talk about a complete fucking role-reversal overnight.
I fucking hate this. The only thing I have to look forward to right now is my surgery, which should be happening within the next three weeks. Partly because I won't be in agony anymore and partly because I know I'm gonna be doped up on painkillers on my Gramma's couch for about a week afterward. Heh. But then after I get my dentures I'll feel beautiful again. I keep hoping that that's gonna change all this. I know it won't, but I keep thinking that.
How did all this happen so fast?
Friday, January 16, 2009
Am I EVER going to be 'done'?!?!
I love how I say one thing and then go do the exact opposite.
Last night after work I was heading home. I get a call from Justin begging me to come get him 'cause he's in a super un-fun situation with people he lives with. And boy, can I relate. So I go get him in Smokey Point and decide I'm only going to stay at the apartment for an hour tops 'cause I had to work at 10am the next morning. Nope. Get inside, Kyle hands me a Busch and next thing you know I've got two games of beer pong under my belt.
FUCK MY LIFE.
This also led to other, more expensive purchases later that night, but that's for another blog entirely. I think I have about $30 to my name for the next week.
So yeah. Fuck. I made sure to get my ass home after work today before I started getting bombarded with "Where's Bre?" type calls.
It's Friday. There's gonna be a badass party at the apartment tonight (although... every night there is a fucking badass party). BUT. I'M STAYING HOME. I'm so fucking sick of waking up every morning feeling like I want to die and then having to go to work through it. My wallet is sick of me going to 7-Eleven every two hours for two more Four Lokos.
Oh. And I'm putting in my two weeks tomorrow. Have to get my surgery shit figured out 'cause one of my front teeth is still pushing against my left nostril. It doesn't really hurt anymore, but I need to get this shit taken care of anyway.
My belly's nice and full of tuna melt, so I'm thinking it's time for me to curl up with my cat on the couch and watch more Family Guy. Heh.
Last night after work I was heading home. I get a call from Justin begging me to come get him 'cause he's in a super un-fun situation with people he lives with. And boy, can I relate. So I go get him in Smokey Point and decide I'm only going to stay at the apartment for an hour tops 'cause I had to work at 10am the next morning. Nope. Get inside, Kyle hands me a Busch and next thing you know I've got two games of beer pong under my belt.
FUCK MY LIFE.
This also led to other, more expensive purchases later that night, but that's for another blog entirely. I think I have about $30 to my name for the next week.
So yeah. Fuck. I made sure to get my ass home after work today before I started getting bombarded with "Where's Bre?" type calls.
It's Friday. There's gonna be a badass party at the apartment tonight (although... every night there is a fucking badass party). BUT. I'M STAYING HOME. I'm so fucking sick of waking up every morning feeling like I want to die and then having to go to work through it. My wallet is sick of me going to 7-Eleven every two hours for two more Four Lokos.
Oh. And I'm putting in my two weeks tomorrow. Have to get my surgery shit figured out 'cause one of my front teeth is still pushing against my left nostril. It doesn't really hurt anymore, but I need to get this shit taken care of anyway.
My belly's nice and full of tuna melt, so I'm thinking it's time for me to curl up with my cat on the couch and watch more Family Guy. Heh.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
I'M EFFING DONE!
Home. For once in my fucking life, I'm home when I don't have to work until 4pm the next day. Heh. My usual outlook is,"HEY! I DON'T WORK UNTIL 4 TOMORROW! I NEED TO GET WASTED!"
Or, more commonly:
"HEY! I DON'T WORK UNTIL 10AM TOMORROW! I NEED TO GET WASTED!!!"
Eff.
It's the first Thursday after I got paid and I have probably about $70 of the $350 from my last paycheck. Just from being at that apartment, I've gone through over a carton and a half of cigarettes.
...within one week. I really need to stop being such a goddamn doormat.
Yep. I need to stay here. I'll go party when I have the next day off. And that's that.
In other news. I've bruised a rib from coughing so hard the past couple weeks. Any time I cough, laugh, sit the wrong way, stand the wrong way, reach the wrong way, I feel like I'm going to fucking die. I can barely even sleep.
So tomorrow (if I can even sleep tonight. I got home and immediately passed out for two hours):
-wake up early-ish. Like 10am.
-wash and detail my car. I got all the shit out of it, but it's still filthy as fuck.
-...?
I think I'ma go make another tuna melt (mmmmm...) and watch me some more Family Guy volume 2. Which I just bought the other day. Wooo.
Or, more commonly:
"HEY! I DON'T WORK UNTIL 10AM TOMORROW! I NEED TO GET WASTED!!!"
Eff.
It's the first Thursday after I got paid and I have probably about $70 of the $350 from my last paycheck. Just from being at that apartment, I've gone through over a carton and a half of cigarettes.
...within one week. I really need to stop being such a goddamn doormat.
Yep. I need to stay here. I'll go party when I have the next day off. And that's that.
In other news. I've bruised a rib from coughing so hard the past couple weeks. Any time I cough, laugh, sit the wrong way, stand the wrong way, reach the wrong way, I feel like I'm going to fucking die. I can barely even sleep.
So tomorrow (if I can even sleep tonight. I got home and immediately passed out for two hours):
-wake up early-ish. Like 10am.
-wash and detail my car. I got all the shit out of it, but it's still filthy as fuck.
-...?
I think I'ma go make another tuna melt (mmmmm...) and watch me some more Family Guy volume 2. Which I just bought the other day. Wooo.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
They just see gingerballs. GINGERBALLS.
Today is officially the first day I haven't had a drop of alcohol in the past month. Go me. Too broke and too tired to think about getting wasted tonight. Well, that and I have work at 10am.
My body is really, REALLY angry with me right now. Waking up tomorrow morning without a hangover is gonna be weird. And totally welcome. Not that I even get hungover anymore. I've been so fucking drunk all the time lately that I now cannot differentiate between being sober and being hungover. So goes alcoholism...
Know what REALLY sucks about all this? I got paid $350 on Pantsmas eve. Then I got $200 for Pantsmas. After buying lots of booze, cigarettes, gas, very little food, lending Kyle about $70 and buying my new green chucks, I have $20. Until Friday. HOLY FUCKING HELL. If that isn't a sign to stop, I dunno what is. But I just fucking can't.
Bleh. In other news. I was one of millions of people affected by the Zune2k9 issue at midnight on the 1st. Fucking leap years. The damn battery took like 4 days to completely drain itself and I just started charging it back up about an hour ago. It looks like all is well now. I'm SO glad, 'cause I was getting really fucking sick of listening to the same two cds over and over in my car.
I'M MAKING AN AGENDA FOR TOMORROW. I need some damn structure in my life again. Okay.
-Get up at 7:30, shower, PACK SOME FOOD FOR WORK. I think I'm dropping weight again. NOT GOOD.
-Work 10-3.
-Go home. HAVE TO HAVE TO.
-CLEAN OUT (and wash if it isn't raining) MY FUCKING CAR. I have shit in there that doesn't even belong to me. I found this random brown velour hoodie that came out of nowhere. So I gave it to Julia. Heh! Then I have about half the clothes I own in the backseat along with half the clothes Kyle owns. And his shoes. And Doom's shoes. And Don's hoodie. Fucking hell. I think I'll feel a lot better having a clean car, 'cause that's really where I spend most of my time.
-EAT.
-Then after all that I can see if I feel up to partying 'cause I have Thursday off. Wooo.
Okay. Bed.
My body is really, REALLY angry with me right now. Waking up tomorrow morning without a hangover is gonna be weird. And totally welcome. Not that I even get hungover anymore. I've been so fucking drunk all the time lately that I now cannot differentiate between being sober and being hungover. So goes alcoholism...
Know what REALLY sucks about all this? I got paid $350 on Pantsmas eve. Then I got $200 for Pantsmas. After buying lots of booze, cigarettes, gas, very little food, lending Kyle about $70 and buying my new green chucks, I have $20. Until Friday. HOLY FUCKING HELL. If that isn't a sign to stop, I dunno what is. But I just fucking can't.
Bleh. In other news. I was one of millions of people affected by the Zune2k9 issue at midnight on the 1st. Fucking leap years. The damn battery took like 4 days to completely drain itself and I just started charging it back up about an hour ago. It looks like all is well now. I'm SO glad, 'cause I was getting really fucking sick of listening to the same two cds over and over in my car.
I'M MAKING AN AGENDA FOR TOMORROW. I need some damn structure in my life again. Okay.
-Get up at 7:30, shower, PACK SOME FOOD FOR WORK. I think I'm dropping weight again. NOT GOOD.
-Work 10-3.
-Go home. HAVE TO HAVE TO.
-CLEAN OUT (and wash if it isn't raining) MY FUCKING CAR. I have shit in there that doesn't even belong to me. I found this random brown velour hoodie that came out of nowhere. So I gave it to Julia. Heh! Then I have about half the clothes I own in the backseat along with half the clothes Kyle owns. And his shoes. And Doom's shoes. And Don's hoodie. Fucking hell. I think I'll feel a lot better having a clean car, 'cause that's really where I spend most of my time.
-EAT.
-Then after all that I can see if I feel up to partying 'cause I have Thursday off. Wooo.
Okay. Bed.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
My drunken life. Woo.
Obligatory update now that the snow is nearly gone and I'm back home:
Other than when I'm at work, I've been drunk for the last month straight. Quite literally. Sometimes even the first hour or so of work I'm still drunk from the night before.
I hate this. But I can't seem to fucking stop it.
Last night was a blur. Justin, Richard and I went over to Kali's to go party for a bit before we had to head up to Bellingham for Pepper's shindig. The only thing I really remember was Teresa attempting to pour tequila down my throat. She succeeded. So then we grabbed Kyle and Justin drove my car up north. We were still driving at midnight :/ So we find the place and I immediately start pounding Busch Ice. Ugh. Mike showed up a little bit later and I don't remember much else except him not wanting us to leave and I left the apartment crying. Heh. It's okay, we're over it now. And we left Richard there. HEH. Dropped Justin at his house, got back to the good ol' commune where apparently an orgy was occuring in Richard and John's room. I shudder to think about it. So we holed up in Julia and Kalani's room with John, Doom and Roxy and played some crazy questions game. Then John and I passed the fuck out.
Today I woke up and immediately started drinking again. Had a Tilt and played a game of beer pong with Julia. She kicked my ass. Wound up puking green. I cannot believe I fucking puked. I hadn't since that chocolate cake/Caribou Lou incident at John's parents' house. But I felt better after that and kept drinking. Heh.
Yup. Happy effin' new year. Work at 10am tomorrow. Joy.
Other than when I'm at work, I've been drunk for the last month straight. Quite literally. Sometimes even the first hour or so of work I'm still drunk from the night before.
I hate this. But I can't seem to fucking stop it.
Last night was a blur. Justin, Richard and I went over to Kali's to go party for a bit before we had to head up to Bellingham for Pepper's shindig. The only thing I really remember was Teresa attempting to pour tequila down my throat. She succeeded. So then we grabbed Kyle and Justin drove my car up north. We were still driving at midnight :/ So we find the place and I immediately start pounding Busch Ice. Ugh. Mike showed up a little bit later and I don't remember much else except him not wanting us to leave and I left the apartment crying. Heh. It's okay, we're over it now. And we left Richard there. HEH. Dropped Justin at his house, got back to the good ol' commune where apparently an orgy was occuring in Richard and John's room. I shudder to think about it. So we holed up in Julia and Kalani's room with John, Doom and Roxy and played some crazy questions game. Then John and I passed the fuck out.
Today I woke up and immediately started drinking again. Had a Tilt and played a game of beer pong with Julia. She kicked my ass. Wound up puking green. I cannot believe I fucking puked. I hadn't since that chocolate cake/Caribou Lou incident at John's parents' house. But I felt better after that and kept drinking. Heh.
Yup. Happy effin' new year. Work at 10am tomorrow. Joy.