Well THATS new.

So had the cocktail party last night. It was a really good time. Well, at least I had a good time. I don’t know that I’m the best person to ask if everyone else similarly enjoyed themselves. I think it was the pint glasses that did it. They’re quite a bit larger than the glasses you get at your average pub, so a single shot of vodka looks so lonely there in the bottom of the glass. So do two, in fact. So treble-vodka redbulls were what I started the evening off with. It didn’t get any better after that. In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s what I kept with, other than the moment of pure horror when I had a sip of pure Archer’s (Peach schnapps), and the moments of bliss when I finished off my bottle of Pucker.

Guess I’ll start at the beginning. Not this past Thursday but the one before; Sooz, Alice, Taylor and I all had to meet Driscoll to get our grades. After the bad news (except for Alice) we all went and got a pint in the Brel beer garden, since it was such a nice day. Out of the middle of nowhere it was remembered that I hadn’t had a housewarming party, and I also remembered that Chris and I wanted to do a cocktail party, so the two were combined and the date set for last night. Oh, and it was decided that everyone should bring their favourite cocktail mixings and be dressed like it’s a cocktail party (ie; suits for guys, dresses for girls. I would like it noted that I was the only guy in a suit, though several of the girls made remarkable efforts to be in dresses. Rosey in a skirt alone was worth it all! ;))

So I really thought it would just end up being the four of us plus Chris and Rob and maybe Stu or something. Oh sure, I invited a lot of people, but I didn’t think they would actually come. So, I bought about a liter and a half of vodka, 8 cans of red bull, some coke, some hotdogs (for to make snooty “cocktail weiners”), chips, dip, the whole shabang. All told I spent my entire shopping allowance for the next two weeks or so in one go. No worries, I’ll survive off of the leftover tortilla chips.

It’s a good thing the invite I sent out specified to bring some booze of your own, because I never would have coped. I was too gone by the time people stopped arriving, but I’d say we had at least 12 but probably more like 20 people here at one point or another. That or just three and I was seeing quadruple. Seriously though, we had a GREAT time, and people who I never thought would come showed up. Fiona and her redheaded friend Jen, Lindsay, Murray (Sooz’s boyfriend), Erin and Natasha . . . OK, I am not thinking of anyone else. Hmmm. Maybe not many people at all! All I know is that we quickly ran out of chairs and I had to sit on the window sill for most of the evening. My ass is STILL asleep! What did I start off writing about again?

Oh yeah! The fact that I suddenly find myself awake at six freakin’ AM!. You see, when I get falling-down drunk, I usually just pass out and sleep for like 12 hours at a time. But not so tonight. I fell asleep just fine some time after 3:30 or 4, but then after I woke to answer the call of nature at 5:15, all I could do was lay there and stare at the ceiling. Didn’t matter what I did. Just couldn’t go back to sleep. Mid-sleep cycle insomnia. Really a new one. All I can say is that if this becomes a habit, I will be most put out. Not freakin’ cool!

I guess I’ll shut up now. Have a good night to those in Arizona, and a good day to those in Scotland. I’m going to go read some for my dissertation. That’s pretty much guaranteed to put me to sleep. I can loan some “light” reading to anyone who really needs some sleep!

And P.S. Despite the rambling nature of this post, I am NOT still drunk. I’m just tired. Exhausted really. So there.

Slainte.

“And is it true
It’s always happy hour here?
If it is I’d like to stay a while.
And as cliche as it may sound,
I’d like to raise another round
And if your bottle’s empty,
Help yourself to mine.
Thank you for your time.
. . . And here’s to life!
~The Refreshments – “Mekong” – Arizona Band! — And may I just say, more beautiful words rarely spoken . . .

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