Monday, June 12, 2006


Well, it seems as if my elbow is healing nicely. I've got a large, lovely scab where my skin used to be. I was certain with all the alcohol I'd consumed last week that my blood would be too thin to allow a scab to actually form. Yay, me! My body has a higher tolerance for the hooch than I'd originally thought.

Since I've been a bad little fairy lately and not posting, I thought I'd at least let you know what's been happening over the past week. So, here's a tiny re-cap for you...

BF Arrives. Drive straight to the bar and enjoy some celebratory cocktails. Stay out WAY too late.

Wake up feeling like hell from too much booze and a lack of solid sleep. Drink 8 bottles of water and take 10 Advil over the course of the day. Go to Fat Willy's for dinner and consume enough grease to kill a small mammal. See DaVinci Code and eat so much popcorn I am certain I'll explode. I don't spontaneously combust, but pass out rather early.

Well rested and fully recovered from Tuesday. Get up and go to work as BF tours the city for hours. Make plans to meet Crazy Ray for cocktails at the old stomping grounds, Mother Hubbard's. Things WILL get ugly. Meet BF & Ray at bar and proceed to drink countless beers and shots (thanks, Ray-Fucker). Decide going to ANOTHER bar is a good idea. Yay! Good times! Head to O'Hagan's where more beers and shots were in order. Ray pulls his Houdini act, so BF & I decide to have a nightcap at my bar. Go home, pass out. Still have NO idea when the elbow-wound occurred.

Wake up feeling as if I've been kicked in the head. Go to work feeling as if I've been kicked in the head. Consume vast quantities of greasy breakfast food in vain effort to soak up the remainder of the alcohol in my system. Fails miserably. Go home, order pizza, watch a movie and pass out by 9:30pm.

Hooray! It's the weekend! Grab breakfast at Hollywood (the Belgian waffle sucked, BTW) and then headed to the Pier to meet the fam. Enjoyed a lovely lunch with sis, hubby-in-law, BF & niece and nephew. Said our goodbyes and ran off to Grant Park for the Chicago Blues Festival. Saw a large black man in head-to-toe red (including matching fedora and shoes), and decided once and for all that ONLY large black bluesman can pull that look off. Drank a few beers. Got a call from Crazy Ray. Let the games begin!

Went to Jake's. Remind myself that nothing good can happen in a bar that has a neon skull and crossbones sign in the window. NOTHING good does happen. Very, very drunk. Walk Ray to a cab. He decides he wants a burrito instead of going home. Have a brilliant idea. Let's go to my bar! Continue quest to become winner of alcoholic competition. Decide later it's a stupid idea and want to go home. Pass out.

Wake up around noon. Watch "Shawn of the Dead" with BF. He makes me breakfast. Clean up, shower and go shopping. Come home, watch "A Christmas Story" (Can you IMAGINE??? BF has NEVER seen it!!!), "Forty Year-Old Virgin" and "Layer Cake." Eat leftover pizza and pass out.

Wake up, refreshed. Decide BF is right. Theme for this week? MODERATION.

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