Over the last few months, I have drastically cut down on my drinking. Yay for me! I still like to drink and do so on occasion with friends. For the most part, I have basically tried to eliminate the getting drunk aspect of drinking. Bad things seem to happen, and life just feels better and more manageable without recurrent hangovers.
But tonight, or should I say last night, I went to a local bar to meet up with a friend. I had a really really long day at SafeCo and decided to go with a double vodka tonic instead of my usual single. The bartender at this particular bar knows me and gives me discounts and whatnot. So after I ordered my drink, I watch in pull out a pint glass, put a small scoop of ice in it, fill it maybe 4/5 the way with vodka and add just a splash of tonic water on top. I shook my head, realizing that it would be pretty much my only drink of the night. Once I had paid, the bartender leaned forward and hollered over the din of music, "Be careful, sweetie. I used the 100-proof vodka."
Yeah, great. Not only was I drinking a pint glass almost purely full of vodka, it was extra-crazy strong vodka. Needless to say, in half an hour, I was wasted. I understand that the bartender was trying to be nice and give me more bang for my buck, but now here I sit at 7 something in the morning, unable to sleep because of a nasty case of cottonmouth and a pounding headache. All I really wanted yesterday after a difficult day at work was to relax and get a good night's sleep.
Blech, I just wish I could SLEEEEEEP!
Friday, May 23, 2008
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Dork
The way I know I'm too big a nerd for my own good is when I get way too excited about things. My heart bubbles, I giggle, and sometimes stomp my feet with glee at things that are rather silly. For instance, about five minutes ago, my joy turned to solemn embarrassment with the solidification of my dorkdom.
Standing in my bathroom, I brushed my teeth with extra vigor. I am going to the dentist tomorrow morning, and of course I want to impress my dental hygienist with my always perfect teeth. Once done with my teeth, I brushed my retainer. The retainer I've been wearing since I was 14, the one that makes me lisp when I try speaking with it in.
As I brushed the old, stupid thing that I only wear every few nights when no one can see, I remembered that my dentist has a cleaning thing that he runs my retainer through that makes it extra clean.
And, I dorked out. I whispered softly "Yeah!" and stomped my feet a little, before realizing what exactly I was celebrating. I shook my head and put my retainer in.
But, honestly, a clean retainer is going to be AWESOME. It just always is.
Standing in my bathroom, I brushed my teeth with extra vigor. I am going to the dentist tomorrow morning, and of course I want to impress my dental hygienist with my always perfect teeth. Once done with my teeth, I brushed my retainer. The retainer I've been wearing since I was 14, the one that makes me lisp when I try speaking with it in.
As I brushed the old, stupid thing that I only wear every few nights when no one can see, I remembered that my dentist has a cleaning thing that he runs my retainer through that makes it extra clean.
And, I dorked out. I whispered softly "Yeah!" and stomped my feet a little, before realizing what exactly I was celebrating. I shook my head and put my retainer in.
But, honestly, a clean retainer is going to be AWESOME. It just always is.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Anarchy in the Air
Tonight was a rather exciting Mariners game when Richie Sexson attacked the pitcher from the Rangers, Kason Gabbard after a pitch was thrown, seemingly intentionally at Sexson's head. Sexson, a beast of a man towering heads above most other players, ran out to the mound, throwing his helmet at the pitcher and pounding him. Quickly the benches from both teams cleared as it turned into a full out brawl. From where I stood I could see Felix Hernandez going insane, screaming at the different players, Kenji Johjima trying his best to hold him off.
The best way to describe it is in the words of one of my customers later in the evening, "At least we found out the Mariners are awake." After game and game of seeing nothing worthwhile from my team, tonight was quite a pick up, and I sold almost all of the Richie Sexson t-shirts in my kiosk.
After I got off work, I accomplished one of my life goals: "Be a witness to a crime." As I was standing, waiting to cross the street to head to Royal Brougham where I catch my bus, I was listening to my iPod, thinking about the game, the fight, how my till was exactly on, when from my left I hear the bang and crunch of a car crash. I snap my head to see that a beat-down van had apparently run the red light and gotten t-boned by a taxi. The crosswalk light beeps at me, so I continue on my way to the bus stop looking over my shoulder at the accident. I see the door to the van open, out falls a very drunk girl, barely wearing any clothes, just some cotton shorts and a tank top. She is stumbling around in the middle of the intersection, idly staring at her phone. Eventually I reached the other side of the street and stopped staring at the scene and walked on to my bus stop. At the stop I check the bus schedule and lean against the fence waiting for my bus.
After a minute or two I look up to see the drunk driving girl walking towards me. My jaw drops as I wonder what her reasoning could be for not being near the scene of the accident. A bus pulls up and she stumbles over to the open doors, asking the bus driver in slurred words where he goes. She is facing away from me, and I notice that her shorts are soaked in the back. She peed herself. My brain is blank with incredulity as I watch her board the bus and leave the area. I step toward the street, looking around to see if anyone else notice what just happened. I write down the bus number and the direction on the palm of my hand. Two or three minutes later, two police cars are slowly casing the two bus stops on royal brougham, looking for the woman. I run out into the middle of the road, screaming what I had seen and pointing toward downtown Seattle. The officers hardly look at me before they peel out their tires and u-turn in the street, within a foot or two of me. The tires are screeching, smoke is rising all around me, and their lights and sirens start to scream. I instinctively put my hands on my ears and watch as they speed away.
Hopefully I'll be able to sleep some, though. Tomorrow is another exciting day at SafeCo field.
The best way to describe it is in the words of one of my customers later in the evening, "At least we found out the Mariners are awake." After game and game of seeing nothing worthwhile from my team, tonight was quite a pick up, and I sold almost all of the Richie Sexson t-shirts in my kiosk.
After I got off work, I accomplished one of my life goals: "Be a witness to a crime." As I was standing, waiting to cross the street to head to Royal Brougham where I catch my bus, I was listening to my iPod, thinking about the game, the fight, how my till was exactly on, when from my left I hear the bang and crunch of a car crash. I snap my head to see that a beat-down van had apparently run the red light and gotten t-boned by a taxi. The crosswalk light beeps at me, so I continue on my way to the bus stop looking over my shoulder at the accident. I see the door to the van open, out falls a very drunk girl, barely wearing any clothes, just some cotton shorts and a tank top. She is stumbling around in the middle of the intersection, idly staring at her phone. Eventually I reached the other side of the street and stopped staring at the scene and walked on to my bus stop. At the stop I check the bus schedule and lean against the fence waiting for my bus.
After a minute or two I look up to see the drunk driving girl walking towards me. My jaw drops as I wonder what her reasoning could be for not being near the scene of the accident. A bus pulls up and she stumbles over to the open doors, asking the bus driver in slurred words where he goes. She is facing away from me, and I notice that her shorts are soaked in the back. She peed herself. My brain is blank with incredulity as I watch her board the bus and leave the area. I step toward the street, looking around to see if anyone else notice what just happened. I write down the bus number and the direction on the palm of my hand. Two or three minutes later, two police cars are slowly casing the two bus stops on royal brougham, looking for the woman. I run out into the middle of the road, screaming what I had seen and pointing toward downtown Seattle. The officers hardly look at me before they peel out their tires and u-turn in the street, within a foot or two of me. The tires are screeching, smoke is rising all around me, and their lights and sirens start to scream. I instinctively put my hands on my ears and watch as they speed away.
Hopefully I'll be able to sleep some, though. Tomorrow is another exciting day at SafeCo field.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
The Mating of Art House and Discovery Channel
Oh, Isabella Rossellini is absolutely insane. The Italian actress is known mainly for her role in Blue Velvet. She was that crazy woman running around. I've seen the movie twice and still cannot really explain what her problem was. Anyways, the point is that this woman is the great mind behind Green Porno. In these short films, produced by the Sundance Channel, Rossellini dresses up as a variety of insects and narrates exactly how these bugs reproduce. It seems like a joke, but the classic way she delivers her lines proves that she means business. The short films are very laughable in the sense that they are insanely ridiculous and also highly avante garde and artistic. However I found myself unable to turn away, as the sexual lives of insects really are pretty interesting. I highly recommend the Bee film, and the Praying Mantis film.
http://www.sundancechannel.com/greenporno/
http://www.sundancechannel.com/greenporno/
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