I've Got a Hangover
My weekend was reserved by the Ques. In a misguided attempt to reconnect with a friend of mine, I decided to participate in Omega weekend since I knew she was going to roll. A boat ride on Friday and what was being deemed as the "final Drip" on Saturday. What was I thinking?
It's not that I had a bad time. It's not that I had a good time. I just had a time. The boatride was okay. The aforementioned Que was there. This was either going to be a blessing or a curse. It turned out to be the latter. I wasn't feeling extremely partyish considering I hadn't really eaten much that day and because the boatride was supposed to start boarding at 7:30, I didn't have time for dinner. Mind you, the boat actually boarded more like 8:15ish and we didn't set sail until almost 9:30. There was a buffet provided except by the time we made it to the front of the line, there was nothing left but pasta salad. So I ate my pasta, tried not to be queasy from the rocking back and forth of the boat and enjoy myself. Then it happened. I see the Que on the dance floor. Not a big deal, even though he claims not to dance much. But then I see who he's dancing with. I don't know her from atom. But she's not nearly as fly as I am. Talk about a blow to my ego. And immediately I want off this boat. But there's no swimming to shore in the Hudson. So I'm stuck. And this sucks. I tried to concentrate on something else, someone else. Couldn't peel my eyes away from him though. Later in the evening, he finally got around to asking me to dance but the damage had been done. But if nothing else, I am sho nuff the queen of denial. So I acted like everything was cool and danced with him until the end of the night. No harm, no foul.
Then my friend who I was attempting to reconnect with (and that's a long, boring story) left me to go to the afterparty. No, she literally left me. On the West Side Highway with $6 in my pocket and no easy way to get home. Thank goodness, me and my self sufficient self had my ATM and Metrocard on me. I have fewer and fewer friends each year because people don't treat me the way I treat them. None reciprocal relationships. Ha!
So all day Saturday, I'm contemplating if I really want to go to the Drip. My tickets already paid for, I don't have any alternative plans and my roll dog is off in Vegas living it up (I hope!). So after much soul searching, I decide to go. What did I do that for? I spent the entire night, and I do mean the entire night, at the bar. I got smashed. I mean completely wasted. So much so, that I thought it would be a good idea to go talk to the Que about how and why he's pissed me off. No mention of the less-attractive-than-me girl, who happened to also be at the party. Not sure if that was an embarassing moment or not. Won't know that for a while.
Fast forward to Sunday morning and for the first time in my life, I've got a hangover. Complete with my 2 hour worship of the porcelain god. It's a feeling I don't like and don't care to ever have again.
But I got to spend a nice quiet Sunday at home, nursing my hangover. I was back to my normal self again just in time to watch the series finally of Queer As Folk. Before you ask, no, I am not a lesbian. I just enjoy a good drama. And QAF provided just that for the last 5 years. I'm sad to see it go. But it went out respectfully and that's all you can ask when one of your favorite shows gets cancelled. Now I can cancel Showtime (again!) and use that money to pay a bill.
Well, it took me almost 5 hours to write this blog. I've got 45 minutes before I'm freed from the plantation.
It's not that I had a bad time. It's not that I had a good time. I just had a time. The boatride was okay. The aforementioned Que was there. This was either going to be a blessing or a curse. It turned out to be the latter. I wasn't feeling extremely partyish considering I hadn't really eaten much that day and because the boatride was supposed to start boarding at 7:30, I didn't have time for dinner. Mind you, the boat actually boarded more like 8:15ish and we didn't set sail until almost 9:30. There was a buffet provided except by the time we made it to the front of the line, there was nothing left but pasta salad. So I ate my pasta, tried not to be queasy from the rocking back and forth of the boat and enjoy myself. Then it happened. I see the Que on the dance floor. Not a big deal, even though he claims not to dance much. But then I see who he's dancing with. I don't know her from atom. But she's not nearly as fly as I am. Talk about a blow to my ego. And immediately I want off this boat. But there's no swimming to shore in the Hudson. So I'm stuck. And this sucks. I tried to concentrate on something else, someone else. Couldn't peel my eyes away from him though. Later in the evening, he finally got around to asking me to dance but the damage had been done. But if nothing else, I am sho nuff the queen of denial. So I acted like everything was cool and danced with him until the end of the night. No harm, no foul.
Then my friend who I was attempting to reconnect with (and that's a long, boring story) left me to go to the afterparty. No, she literally left me. On the West Side Highway with $6 in my pocket and no easy way to get home. Thank goodness, me and my self sufficient self had my ATM and Metrocard on me. I have fewer and fewer friends each year because people don't treat me the way I treat them. None reciprocal relationships. Ha!
So all day Saturday, I'm contemplating if I really want to go to the Drip. My tickets already paid for, I don't have any alternative plans and my roll dog is off in Vegas living it up (I hope!). So after much soul searching, I decide to go. What did I do that for? I spent the entire night, and I do mean the entire night, at the bar. I got smashed. I mean completely wasted. So much so, that I thought it would be a good idea to go talk to the Que about how and why he's pissed me off. No mention of the less-attractive-than-me girl, who happened to also be at the party. Not sure if that was an embarassing moment or not. Won't know that for a while.
Fast forward to Sunday morning and for the first time in my life, I've got a hangover. Complete with my 2 hour worship of the porcelain god. It's a feeling I don't like and don't care to ever have again.
But I got to spend a nice quiet Sunday at home, nursing my hangover. I was back to my normal self again just in time to watch the series finally of Queer As Folk. Before you ask, no, I am not a lesbian. I just enjoy a good drama. And QAF provided just that for the last 5 years. I'm sad to see it go. But it went out respectfully and that's all you can ask when one of your favorite shows gets cancelled. Now I can cancel Showtime (again!) and use that money to pay a bill.
Well, it took me almost 5 hours to write this blog. I've got 45 minutes before I'm freed from the plantation.
posted by BabyGirl at
5:15 PM
1 Comments:
So the fofillion hour wait to get on the Que cruise was the same as the Sigma cruise. Ok that's about right. Hey at least there were no light show shoes.
I must go back to read about the aforementioned Que. But just on GP I'll say he sucks balls. As for the boozing, hey sometimes ya needs to get fucked up. That's all I'm sayin :)
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