It really is tangible, how the weather affects my moods. After a solid week of seventy degree days we had a cold spell rip through here, and for the last week I've been wandering around in a sullen mood. There were threats of snow, that luckily passed without incident. And despite my seemingly unending days after days of hangover, this day passed beautifully.
And instead of complaining about hangovers, which I never really do because it truly is my own fault, I've started to start each day at work by announcing how wonderful today's hangover is.
"Man, I'm having a great hangover today! How's your's going?"
But it is starting to wear on me, my body is in some state of disrepair, and it can't go on like this forever. I'm thinking of taking a week off of booze, probably after Monday. This weekend, though, its unstoppable. Wedding shinnanigans, friends in from out of town, and we are all basically alcoholics.
But its all right. We do what we do.
...
Sitting at the The Bar again, the four of us together, sitting in the booth we once swore that upon our inevitable deaths we would have our bodies bronzed and installed in, drinking together forever, so that anyone could hang out with us, our spirits...
Mugs in hand, me and my friends again, especially my friend J. whose recovery is simply remarkable.
There was a time when I'd thought we had truly lost him, when we almost gave up on him, left him for dead, because the road he was on was a dark one with a very definite end, and he was burning bridges, all of them, because he had to.
I don't know if he saw the tears welling up in my eyes, as we traded stories of bar nights past, our crazy, horrible antics, and then the real discussions, of his descent into the depths of drugs and alcohol, of his first failed engagement. He was never really the same after that one. And his words of advice and wisdom, concerning my failed attempts at marriage.
My man J. Its funny, because I used to tell the ex the same story over and over again when I was drunk, telling her all about my friend J., and how our friendship had fallen apart, about how much he meant to me. It became a running joke. "Did I ever tell you about my friend J.?"
...
Though I'll admit the night got a little out of hand, when we left the bar to go to a friend's house to drink even more, and there I sat in the living room, trying to play a guitar with only four strings, as my friends went off to a different room to do coke, which deeply kind of pissed me off.
I've done it before, only three times, and after the third time I got it all out of my system, literally, as I stayed up all night and then proceeded to throw up pretty much all of the next day.
I mean, do what you are going to do. I've lost more than a few friends that way, truly good people that turned into monsters, as their lives slowly fell apart around them. That was pretty much how J. got into trouble in the first place.
I was a little miffed about it. But fun is fun, and its a celebration. I'm glad I didn't go for it, as the thought crossed my mind for a tenth of a second. So instead I found my friend's girlfriend's bath robe and put it on, sprayed myself with cologne in the bathroom, and then played on two keyboards in a drunken fury.
...
My new joke when I'm at the pub is to ask people not to eat in front of me when I'm smoking. "Could you please not eat in front of me, I'm trying to smoke here..."
...
Oh, and perhaps you've noticed my mustache. Its my profile picture. His name is officially Leonard. Say hello to Leonard. He won't bite. Just don't touch Leonard.
Seriously, I feel like this mustache has given me a huge confidence boost. I can't really explain how or why. But I like it. I do, I do.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
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