smurfday

as i sat, hunched in my bathroom (willing myself not to vomit while scrubbing away the several and varied hand-stamps from the night before), i realized this is the fourth day in a row i had woken up hungover. or, in this case, still drunk.

and, it was only saturday, meaning i had spent 3/5 of a normal person's work week hungover (i spent 4/7 of my work week hungover).

things that have contributed to my recent binge drinking:

1) my smurfday (which i remember calling it over and over and over again tuesday at dc 9). that we havent been kicked out of there yet is nothing short of a miracle. the staff there are saints.
2) sparks.
3) my friend liz who i have nicknamed baltimore, because like the city, she is charm personified. ahem. a dainty duo we are not.
4) cupcakes; im not sure how its their fault, but im positive they are a contributing factor.
5) sparks. (in case youre wondering: anything that looks [and is] that unnatural going in, is just as unnatural going out).
6) champs: really, what better way to kick off a night of shots, sparks and cupcakes than with two bottles of champagne?
7) sparks: seriously people, why does such a fun and happy drunk leave you with such a disgustingly nasty hangover. WHY!?!

and finally i would like to take this opportunity to complain about bar hand-stamps; i appreciate that they dont contribute to the debauchery, but, is there any reason they have to be so big and so difficult to get off? why must they be a music venue's version of the scarlet letter? yes, i went out on school night, and yes, if you must know, i drank too much and probably got home somewhere north of 2 a.m.

in the morning when i go to work, i will do everything i can to combat the smoky hair, the bloodshot eyes and the ravenous look of a zombie desperate for brains; why must you and your smudgy, public stamp of shame give me away?