so yesterday's activities can absolutely be described as a marathon of consumption. I met up with Megan and company around 4/5 o'clock and since they were all nearly drunk tried to catch myself up. we went to three different bars before Megan's friends were hungry and ready to take a nap. Megan and I decided to stay out, so we stopped in at the Ginger Man, where the green shirts were less plentiful. it was an interesting time partly spent talking about getting and giving it up the butt with some guy who approached us. towards the end of our tenure there I managed to knock over my mostly full pint of Pabst ($2.50 each, yessiree). knocking over and/or spilling drinks is one of my more damnable social curses. it's never elegant and never easy to gloss over. especially when your table has a rim around it and your handiwork is now on display as a wood-encircled pond punctuated by soggy ashtrays. but I digress.

Megan and I left the GM around 10, just after scoring 2 free packs of cigarettes from one of those roving cigarette solicitors. we weren't sufficiently drunk enough for our liking but no matter. a stop at Domino's on the way home provided us with a good dinner, during which we enjoyed the beginning of SNL (highlights: "cheers to snake!" and "this box represents my heart."). then I changed and we headed up to Rogers Park to get some of Megan's money (I'd cashed myself out for the night) so the drinking could continue.

Megan's apartment smelled like ass when we opened the door, assumedly due to her passed-out friends, one of whom had vomited gross stuff like barbecue wings shortly after getting home. fortunately Megan only took a few minutes to change and stuff her wad of cash into her bag. and with that, we were off to Liar's Club.

by 1am we'd arrived at the door of LC and stepped inside to the exact beginning to Blur's "Girls & Boys." it was a nice touch and I mentally sent my kudos to the DJ. Megan and I each scored another pint of Pabst ($2.00 ea.) and went to stand by the DJ booth for a bit.

after watching the white folk dance became tiresome I suggested we head back to the bar so I could occasionally stare at one of the guys who works there. just stare, not approach. because staring is safe. anyway, eventually we were able to plant our asses on some barstools and that made for some fine times. like: the weird-ass guy who punctuated he tale of chicks sitting near us who had fucked his rock star dad with Tourette's-like mumblings of "motherfucker" and "fuck" and "fucking." and: the blotto weirdo who chose to practically prop himself up right on poor little Megan. he eventually was escorted out the door. anyway, the tunes were a-pumpin' and we amused ourselves by singing along and writing things on napkins to each other. mmmm, so not dorky.

as a side note, I was extraordinarily gassy last night. I was really unsettling and it almost proved disruptive when I accidentally swallowed a gigantic bubble of air with a big gulp of beer and then had to quickly sashay to the toilet just in case of puke. I was tipped off with the quick succession of burps that followed the air swallowing and the sudden onset of saliva. both being accurate indicators of a barf session.

I am a lady.

anyway, no puke did make forth from my pie-hole. haha. yes, so I continued drinking and then it was time to close the bar. Megan and I looked at each other and starting bitching about the fact that we still weren't drunk (why else drink? honestly, bingeing is the only way to go sometimes). I guess it was because of our sensible choice to drink beer only. foolish.

before we could exit the bar, some guy with long hair and a black muscle shirt gave me one of those finger-tickler handshakes and it really creeped me out. and then I was happy the bar was closed.

Megan and I decided it was definitely not time for the night to end, so we headed up to Carol's. and then, because of my mistake, we had to walk a half-mile to the closest 7-11 so Megan could access an ATM. oops. when we got back to Carol's we were trapped by a mumbly-mumbly old man from whom it was difficult to make an escape. but then some guy came over and asked us to talk to him and his friends so we did. they turned out to be improv-ers and were thus nicely entertaining. I spent a few minutes with each guy gently badmouthing the improv-er who fucked April over my friend-filled birthday weekend last October. because people need to know and I'm disgusted by him a little. in retrospect it was stupid to tell them both my real first and last name later in the night but oh well. I hope never to see that one guy ever again and I really don't care if he finds out.

during a lull in my conversation with the guys, I let out a really much-too-loud burp. ok, it was a belch. a belch that prompted one of the guys' lady friends to turn around and yell, "Heyyyyy, ladies, please..." I turned pretty red. it wasn't supposed to be so loud. I have seriously got to work on burping silently.

anyway, we closed down Carol's and spent an awkward 10 minutes with one of the improv guys trying to decide what to do and where to go next because Megan and I were bound and determined to DRINK MORE BEER because we were still NOT DRUNK. we like our bodies, you see. and the three and a half packs of cigarettes we'd smoked since the afternoon weren't doing the trick either, dagnabbit. (remember how I was going to quit smoking? ahh, me too.)

in the end, we resigned ourselves to the fact that it was 5:15am and time to go home. we got home, finished the two pieces of pizza in the refrigerator, noted that the sky was lightening up, and then hit the hay. I honestly don't understand what prevented me from getting stupid wasted last night. but then again, now that I recount it all I guess "stupid wasted" is a subjective term.

total record of consumption: approx. 12 beers; God-I-hate-to-think-how-many cigarettes (we blew through 4 packs total but did give some away, in our (useless) defense).

Megan stuck around till 5pm today, during which we watched a few of the Ali G episodes I'd taped for friends. we also enjoyed most of "The Jerk." good God I love that movie. I hope someday a man who loves me tells me that he wants to travel through the inner workings of a trumpet I was playing to kiss my lips. sigh. oh, but he needn't be anything like Navin Johnson per se.

I've spent the rest of the evening eating some vegetables and watching more television. the two hours before I decided to write this were spent torturing myself over things I can't change, things that have passed and that don't deserve the energy I wasted on them tonight. it was a kind of exhausting/unhappy end to a good weekend. but oh well. I'm over it now.

and finally, tomorrow may be the beginning of the end of the world. thank you, Mr. President.

that caps this edition of weekend wrap-up. stupid work begins again tomorrow.