Sunday, August 8, 2004

Birthday Debauchery

Birthdays are great. I got the day off Friday and lived out my Central Park fantasy. Except there was no wine. No cheese. And it wasn't a gondola, it was an old rowboat. But v. exciting, nonetheless.

The evening out proved to be successful. If 5 gin and tonics and 7 shots of SoCo and lime are accurate measurements of success. But dude, if you are stupid enough to buy me birthday shots, it does not ensure that I'm yours for the evening, nor does it ensure I'll go home with you. So get off my ass. Patrick didn't get the hint. So I escaped to the dance floor downstairs—Britney saves the day! When Patrick found that I was no where in sight, he took the opportunity hook up with my friend Jenny. I got my shots, and he got to make out. Yay. The night suddenly took a downward spiral when I proceeded to call The Boy 15 times (literally), leave messy voicemails and text messages and then yell at his roommate. Why can't I just be smooth? Fuck me. The next thing I know, I'm waiting for an hour for the New Jersey PATH train and babbling about my night to a boy in a pink argyle sweater.

I wake up at 2 p.m. with the vision of McDonald's french fries swimming in my brain. Confusing, I think, as I know I didn't stop at the 24-hour McDonald's a block from my apartment. There are no wrappers in my trash can. I figure it must be a hungover craving, and I traipse to Micky D's for greasy satisfaction. I call Anne later, who kindly informs me that she took me to the PATH station. On the way, we stopped at McDonald's and I stuffed my face with fries. So I was thinking I had the willpower not to eat while drunk. No such luck. Damn.

Last night's O.A.R. concert was lovely. A nice reminder that I'm in my mid-twenties. We tailgated before the show, and while sitting on the lawn, about 20 youngish looking boys walked by. My friend Liz and I thought it would be fun to talk to them. What boy doesn't like a Mrs. Robinson-type who can buy them beer? They were all anywhere from 16 to 19 years old. I gave them each drinks of my 24 oz. $10 concert-bought brew in exchange for a dollar. And I bought them a few beers and made some tips. I came out $8 ahead. Yay. Good birthday weekend. And now it's Sunday. Boo.

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