Monday, July 04, 2005

Lifting a Glass (or 12) for America


Welcome to my new blogspot. Isn't it pretty? Jenny rocks.

So this weekend we celebrated America's birthday in the old school American tradition of getting far too drunk and making asses of ourselves. Hey, I'm not entirely sure that wasn't what the founding fathers intended, so I don't feel too bad about it. I mean, have you seen the Samuel Adams ad where the guy is like, "When the founding fathers were in the tavern planning the revolution, they were drinking quality beer". Um... wow. I mean, that sort of says something about the chances of success of your revolution, doesn't it, when you conceived of it while sitting in a tavern drinking? I mean, I'm sure we ALL have sat around drinking and coming up with brilliant plans. Only... we don't actually do ours. So in the spirit of drunken, ill advised but surprisingly successful plans, I will tell you about my weekend.

I lost complete control over my weekend early in the week, because both Jenny and my friend PC, who just returned from Kyrgyzstan (don't ask) were coming to stay with me, and Jenny was throwing a party. In my apartment. That I... wasn't going to be at, because I had a kickball party to go to. And then Kate added guests, and her guests added guests, and THOSE guests sent out a listserve, until Friday there was basically a party in my apartment being thrown by someone who didn't live there and consisting of people no one actually knew.


So I had planned to be home around 10, but... kickball, so I stumbled (literally! Stumbling! Beer!) into my apartment closer to one. And there were a lot of people drinking there, some of whom I actually knew. And I was drinking a top shelf margarita because for some inexplicable reason we decided to have a classy party and buy really expensive liquor to make margaritas with. And then... well, then I am not entire certain what happened, because we were talking and sitting and drinking and then it was morning. And we were hungry, and I just barely managed to realize that the half forming plan of going to the grocery store and cooking breakfast ("Attention shoppers, passed out drunk on aisle 1") was not a good plan, so we all hiked over to the diner a few blocks away.

Kate: "B, do you have keys? Because I don't have keys."

Me: "Yes! I have keys. My keys are... my keys are... nope. Don't have keys."

We decided to deal with the problem later and went to breakfast, where we frightened the waiter a great deal with our singing. Because our milkshakes TOTALLY bring all the boys to the yard, and damn right, they are better than yours. But then something rather disturbing happened and instead of singing booty music on the way home we started singing... Christian camp songs. I don't... I don't know people, I just don't know. But Father Abraham? He had many sons. MANY SONS HAD FAAAATHER ABRAHAM! AND I AM.....

I am certifiably insane.

Anyway, when we got home sometime around 7:30 am we had to face the problem of the lack of keys. E was sleeping in the apartment, so we decided to call him. So I called him. And called him. And called him. Until Kate realized I was calling his home phone in Williamsburg, and he was probably not going to answer that. So we tried calling his cell. And calling. And banging (softly) on the door. No dice. At this point there were 5 people spread out in a zig zag pattern down the hall, fast asleep. Now, I'm not sure exactly was the textbook definition of "good party" is, but it either definitely or definitely does not include "guests asleep in hallway."

So even though the front desk is not supposed to give out spare keys, I went down and negotiated a blood pact with the man at the front desk wherein he gave me a key and I kept quiet about the fact that he was dead asleep at the desk and returned the key immediately. And we got in, and save on minor disaster with the inflatable bed ("This pump isn't working" "You have it on deflate." "...Oh.") we all got a few hours of sleep.

Saturday we all got up and trooped en masse to a BBQ our friend was throwing, where there was much good food and laughter and a viewing of Old School, and then we all trooped en masse back to my apartment where everyone continued to sleep, because... well, I honestly have no idea. Eventually everyone who did not A. Pay rent, B. Not pay rent but live in the apartment, or C. Not live in the apartment but had previously negotiated sleeping space for a few days left, and we spent a very, VERY quiet Sunday night napping through The Life Aquatic.

Yesterday there was ANOTHER BBQ, but this one had the slight hitch of not actually having a built grill. So... so we built the grill. With almost no help from the actual homeowner and party giver, but that is besides the point. And then we played flip cup. For... hours. And we realized that the fireworks are on TV anyway and they were testing the emergency evacuation plan from DC and bridges were closed and cabbing would be a disaster and wouldn't we all rather play flip cup some more anyway? So we did, until the wee hours of the morning when E, who is WONDERFUL, came and picked us up.

And guess what I did not do?

I did not fall down. At ALL. Well, ok, maybe once I tripped on the deck and ran into the door and scraped myself, a little, but I was still pretty much sober at the time so it doesn't count. Jenny? Jenny fell down. But much like K's mysterious injury from the beach, Jenny has no idea when or where she fell down. Heh. I think there is just so much falling-down mysterious injury karma, and now that Jenny is here, she gets it.

Jenny, do not go home.

But alas, Jenny is going home tonight, which is very, very sad for all parts of me except my liver, who right now would be throwing a GO HOME JENNY party if it had any energy left at all, but is instead probably sort of halfheartedly toasting with some of the leftover alcohol in my system. Sorry, liver!

I hope everyone had a great fourth!