I'm Never Drinking Again

I come to you this morning from five hours of sleep. That's not bad, I suppose, if I hadn't spent the sixteen hours before drinking wine. Truly...no one should drink wine for sixteen hours. My head, or what used to be my head, is... my god it hurts.

It was supposed to be "lunch." But when my GBF suggested coming back to his apartment to lay out on the roof, it seemed like a decent enough way to pass a hot and sunny Friday afternoon. "OK," I said. "But I need to be home by seven." It was four am when I poured myself into a cab for Brooklyn.

The problem, as I see it, isn't a drunken day of hanging out with friends. I can actually justify sixteen hours of non-stop drinking if there isn't anything otherwise constricting your schedule that day or the next. The problem is that I can't just hang out with my friends and drink. I have to CALL people. I have to send text messages. And most recently...and this is the part I hate the most...I feel the need to drunken Email.

I dont' know where this proclivity for drunken communicating comes from, because admittedly nothing good has EVER resulted. I usually wake up the next morning hating myself, dreading the uncomfortable follow up conversations. It's embarrassing. Probably as much for the recipients as for me. Thus is the reason the Myspace account was disabled. Did you know that there's no security option for prevention of drunken myspacing? The comments were astounding. People I don't even like, or hadn't seen in years getting heartfelt shoutouts from yours truly. Again, as uncomfortable for them as for me.

I'm going to sleep again. I'm supposed to be at a concert in Coney Island today. And I really plan on going, but I'd probably throw up on myself if I tried to get on a train. So a nap is first. And hey, if I drunkenly communicated with you last night in some weird fashion, (Pam, memorybruise, Missie, etc) my apologies.