This is, by far, my favorite #1HS entry ever. With a fucking bullet.

Sambucca... that takes me back.

My similar moment came in a bar in Mexico. I woke up with my head on the bar. Miraculously, my purse still at my feet. The place was completely empty. And completely phone free, so I had to walk two miles back to our hotel feeling like I had eaten three dozen dirty socks. My friends weren't even up yet, and so hadn't noticed I was missing.

they tell me you can still have fun on the wagon.

but your blogging will go downhill.

Yeah. Apparently this weekend, after drinking everything in the house, among other things, I bit my boyfriend's face. When he yelled at me, I laughed, and did it again. No recollection.

Ultrasound - had one, and then another procedure where they xray you after injecting flourescent dye way up in you with tools that look like something out of Dead Ringers. All this to investigate strange crampings in my abdomen. When they were done, they patted me on the shoulder and said that I should have no problems concieving, to just keep trying. Adfglkj***$%&#$.

All for the wagon! I originally quit drinking (and smoking) because my doctor said it would help keep my kidney stones in check, but I've taken up not drinking (or smoking) again because such behavior has a refreshing effect. Sleeping better, getting up on time, getting up earlier on weekends, getting shit done, get shit done well, getting more reading done, getting more writing done, remembering conversations, writing down good conversations, having more good ideas, remembering to make notes of good ideas, stinking less and clothes stinking less so less laundry has to be done, and, most of all, spending less god-damned money, &tc, &tc. It all comes with not drinking. Of course, you lose friends who think you not drinking is a reprimand to everyone around you, bad parties suck camel tits rather than being perfectly okay once you've had a few, you have to put up with the AA bores who think you're kindred, you have less casual sex (of course, you also less often wake up scared of the deep-sea species in bed next to you), you get invited out less often (since those are so often just nights of drinking for no particular reason), people don't think you're paying your way when you bring soda and chips to a party instead of alcohol, and, worst of all, you have to explain yourself to everybody who thinks you're a rude prick for refusing to have whiskey with them in the saloon and wants to have a gun fight out front of the dry goods store: nothing worse than a drunk gunfighter who becomes solicitous when you say the only thing that will keep you from getting a bullet in the chest at high noon, which is, "Sorry, I quit drinking because I realized I had a health problem," when, in fact, you quit drinking because of all the reasons outlined up above. (Now that I written this, I realize we've talked about this a million times, but what the fuck.)

There are two Tees in my last name. So much for getting up early on weekends.

The wagon is overrated. I've had more fun since jumping off.

Didn't you fall off? You were unsteady on your feet because you were soused and standing up in the back of the wagon, your shirt off, a quarter draw in your hand, shouting "Wooooooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhooooooooooooooo!" and "Show us yer tits!" at passing cars.

Well, last night I got swacked in the LES and then wandered into a basement church where people were speaking in tongues. An experience not to be missed, for sure.

I like the Drink, me. Perhaps one day I won't anymore. But I'm not gonna hold my breath.

Gun fighting on the other hand, well, I'm pretty much 'meh' on that. But I can see that it might be fun after a lot of whiskey.