Hangover and under, listen, bowel thunder

You know that percolator sound you can make when you're groaning a little bit in the back of your throat?


Oh, you thought I was going somewhere with that, didn't you. Sorry, this is a morning of disappointments and vague fuzzy hangovers. Lisa my co-worker says the best cure is to just plow through it and continue partying all weekend. By Sunday I should be about ready to return to work, she says. At the moment I'm a bit lost though, blindly reaching out for my keyboard, and pressing on it in the style of a monkey that hasn't yet shelled out the bucks for some typing lessons.

What's new what's new. Went out for the 2nd Thursday in a row last night with Hovig, Peter, Reza and a couple Japanese peeps. Me and Reza did our not-quite-salsa-dancing again. The real highlight of the evening happened earlier however. I was meeting the guys at Kazu when all of a sudden Brenda, the other Sarah W, Gosha and Chiara come in for some lady time and sit at the table next to us. Alright, that's cool that's cool, I'm digging it. Half an hour later and COMPLETELY INDEPENDENTLY, in walks Joe, Kris, Sarah the original and Allen, and sit at the other table next to us. Am I losing my mind here?!?! My friends were filling up the whole restaurant. I naturally started milling around from table to table, so Peter started giving me a hard time about being a traitor to our table, and pretending they had all finished the food while I was gone. Heh. That was great. What a tiny town this is. I'm glad we all have similarly awesome taste in restaurants.

I've got to purify my system tonight though, I'm having some digestive issues this morning (I'm sure you know the kind). Then I'll be all set for my Saturday morning at Marine Manor. We're turning it into a real tradition. I arrive with pastries, call my family, and then we watch some TV. Kid Nation and Heroes are on the agenda right now, but maybe we'll just keep adding stuff until it becomes my all-day-Saturday slam fest. Tuesday nights at Allen's are rotating every fortnight between Weeds/Flight of the Conchords (my thing) and Grey's Anatomy (gay, not my thing). We have a good rhythm going with the TV here. I can't really watch anything but the news at home, so the level of quality in my tv viewing has really sky-rocketed since I moved out of the manor. I used to watch crap like Sunset Tan and "My boy is retarded let's make an hour long documentary about him on the Documentary Channel." This situation is better, although I miss my plastic surgery shows a teensy bit. If only the gym stayed open until midnight, I could work out while watching them at the same time. Sometimes I try and time my gym visits to coincide with better TV. It's the logical thing to do.