B's in Town!

Last night was the most fun i've had in awhile. I think it's because it felt like the good old days, when my best friend Bunnie used to live in Atlanta and we used to paint the town GLITTER & GOLD and go buckwild like we're a coupla popstars and it's all about excess. Those days were our heyday. I think the craziest year of my life was the Summer of 2006, when B lived on Pleasant Hill and i split my time between Athens and Atlanta. Wasabi House was our second home and we'd go there to meet Mitchy, E, Karl, Ira, Hanna, Soy, and a few others. Those were wild times. We loveloveloved Blue Olive, the Jewish yuppie mecca, where we'd always enter with the bravado of musketeers flinging back capes because we'd always enter after a few shots of 151 taken in our car. (i used to leave a bottle of that or Jack Daniels in my glove compartment). OW! Those were the times i'd black out and act possessed and pass out on my driveway and wake up in the sun next to a pile of throw up. Classay. We were 23 and free.

I don't do that anymore.

Nowadays, when i see serious clinical blacked-outness, it frightens me. Like, i really get disturbed. I think when you hit my age, we veteran partygirls 86 the psychotic style of blacking out (the skanktacity, the screaming, the falling flat on the dirty dance floor) and we hit a gentle plateau where we black out and STILL successfully carry on totally coherent and intelligent conversations in calm indoor voices and continue drinking shot after shot after shot with our pinkies out. Yes, in short, we become graceful lushes. We may still wake up on the cold tiles of our bathroom floors with no recollection of the night before, but we never display or give away the extent of our drunkenness. It's a weakness. It's a flaw. We ask everyone in our phones what happened and if we said or did anything stupid, but we never did. We never do. We are 27 and such smooth criminals it's a sin.

So last night we opted for Prime Hof and a laid-back night with only one casual bottle of Crown split amongst 4 or 5 girls. Nars brought red velvet cupcakes for B and we ordered fried chicken, ddukboki, queso dip, and sprites. We caught up on things and socialized and everything felt much calmer like 4 years ago on xanax. Sometimes i get really sad thinking about how B won't be in Atlanta for much longer before she has to go back to Connecticunt, but i know that things are so different now and we're all growing up. Who knows what else the future will bring? You just roll with the punches. In less than 10 days, i'll be 27 and i'm realizing i'm not a spring chick anymore. It's scary! I remember distinctly when i turned 23 and i got depressed because i felt so old. Now i don't get depressed because i'm so overwhelmed with my old age that denial creeps in and numbs it all out. It's like post traumatic stress or something. GAH. Anyways, i am so full right now because of all the mewoontang i ate (korean seafood gumbo...err.. somethin..) and the food coma is sweeping over me. Food coma is a much healthier alternative to xanax.

Kisses,
Lizcifer.