Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Hungover and Hoarse

My friend Amanda and I brazenly headed down to the French quarter yesterday (we don't need no stinkin' boys!) to continue our adventures in scandal and debauchery. We negotiated with greedy tourists for pieces of plastic which only hold value in the currency of Mardi Gras ("local girls don't show their tits for beads, assholes"--unless they're really spectacular beads, then we might consider it). What that boils down to is that Amanda and I make out with each other for choice beads ("Oh My God I just HAVE to have those light-up Jägermeister beads!) Teamwork makes it happen.

I also told any moderately attractive male I encountered on Bourbon street that Amanda gives good head--and likes it, which got us quite a bit of attention.

Later on we met up with Amanda's pseudo-boyfriend, Brad, and his friend Jacob (who's super hott) and went to some party uptown. Amanda complained the whole way there that she desperately had to pee. Apparently the urge to urinate was so strong that she was in excruciating pain, so naturally as soon as we got there she headed straight for the bathroom. However, to her dismay, for some strange reason she was unable to pee. After several attempts in various venues (hall, upstairs, bedroom bathrooms), Amanda’s fragile nature combined with the excessive amount of alcohol she’d consumed overtook her and she laid down on the floor to cry. I had to laugh.

Thankfully, as I returned from downstairs with a glass of water she emerged from the bathroom smiling and laughing. Success! Disaster avoided.

Monday, February 27, 2006

CNN is in Slidell!

Oh My God Miles O'Brian is in my hometown RIGHT NOW. If I weren't so obsessed with cable news coverage, perhaps this wouldn't excite me so, or perhaps the FEMA trailers strategically framed in the background would depress me, but I'm too overwhelmed with thinking that this makes me almost famous.

Sunday, February 26, 2006

Happy Baachus Day

Unfortunately, for probably the first time in years, I am not in New Orleans for Baachus. I was just way too exhausted after yesterday. I don't think Endymion even rolled last night, I think it got rescheduled for tonight because of some rain (wusses), but it's not like I even would have known because I a)was completely wasted and b)barely left Bourbon all day. It was glorious. Most of the day was gorgeous, and it was slightly less crowded than normal because of Katrina. In just under 14 hours, I accomplished all the mandatory tasks of Mardi Gras revelry: I ate a shrimp and oyster poboy from the Market Cafe, had beignets from Cafe du Monde, drank hand grenades from Tropical Isle, got wasted, and participated in more degrading activites than I even care to recount. It was awesome. I'm going back tomorrow for Orpheus.

I love that CNN thinks they're being subtle by juxtaposing images of areas that are still devastated with shots of Bourbon street crowds. It's a complicated issue, with valid points on both sides, but ya know what Carnival is to the people of Louisiana? Normalcy. Much needed normalcy.

I'll post some pictures of my Mardi Gras misadventures in a couple of days. Stay tuned.

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Four Score and One Night From Now

41 days. The countdown has begun.

41 days until the glorious 21st anniversary of my arrival into this world. The splendor will be short-lived, yet spectactular. My first step in readying myself for this memorable coming-of-age benchmark was to convince my roommate that we should have a party. She was quickly won over by the presentation I'd prepared for her, and planning for the festivities can now be implemented.

Mark your calendar's, bitches!

Sunday, February 19, 2006

Sticky Situation

I think I've made a mistake.

In a moment of poor judgement, I gave somebody I was moderately interested in a premature sampling of my...oral talents...and it seems he's become a bit attached.

After two dates it seems he's decided I'm a goddess and wants to be my boyfriend and sleep over every night. Great. The problem with jumping into a relationship is that I eventually have to do one of two things: fall in love or break up. The idea of either fills me with tension and angst. Once I realize that a relationship is, indeed, what I'm getting myself into, I tend to spend every waking moment obsessing over whether I've made the right decision and dreaming up disastrous scenarios of discomfort.

It's not that I don't want a relationship. I want nothing more than to find a sense of comfort, security, friendship and love with somebody. I've had that in the past, and I miss it dearly. I had someone who was my best friend and we lost it. I want nothing more than to find that again with somebody new. It's making sure it's the right guy that scares the shit out of me. The whole process is just so tedious.

All this trouble from a blow job.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Princess Charlotte

Yesterday was the first time I've been single on Valentine's day in...six years I think. And ya know what? I had a great day. Man nothin could get me down yesterday. And I had a very well-timed reminder that if any one particular guy doesn't turn out to be my prince charming, it's really no big deal, because there are so many other frogs out there for me to kiss. At this point in my life, looking for the right guy is just as much fun as finding him.

Monday, February 13, 2006

Edward Forty-Hands

A friend and I engaging in poor-decision making regarding the amount of alcohol our little bloodstreams could handle. The resulting behavior, while humorous, led to much discomfort and humiliation the next morning. This photo marks the beginning of the end. (please note the duct tape)

I'm on the right.

Friday, February 10, 2006

I Can't Be Your Hero Today

Turns out that the Captain of Industry wasn't all that perfect. In fact, as a result of his recent behavior, the terms "imbalanced" and "unstable" now come to mind. Whatev. Too many fish in the sea to waste my time with someone who's not nice to me.

I'm getting my Friday night started early with Anderson Cooper and a Bud Light, then donning a wifebeater and heading to the Graffiti Party to get likkered up and forever memorialized in sharpie.