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[Mar. 13th, 2012|05:51 am] |
Well, that was an interesting weekend. The first alcohol-free party I've attended since I was about sixteen, and I was the one throwing it. Although it wasn't my party, it was Arye's. Maaan, I felt old when I discovered I was the parent of a nine year old, and now he's ten already. I think I'm officially going to the land of old guys. Or possibly the land of people who talk about their kids all the time. Although I'm pretty sure my clothes have been there before. Old people clothes, not parent-clothes, that is. Anyways, we all survived, even me, so that's a win right there. Got the ex packed back off to Dayton with everything present and correct and still attached to my person on a permanent basis, so things are improving.
And speaking of improooovements... the party room at The Silly Knickers is now open and bookable. Seriously, guys, think about it for your next event. Private bar, snacks from the kitchen god... you can't do better. #shamelessplug
Also, if anybody is looking for work, I could still use some more waitstaff and another bartender. If you know somebody in a situation where they're looking (or YOU may be in a similar situation) give me a call. |
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[Sep. 19th, 2011|07:18 am] |
Well, hellooooo hangover. Also, hello more rain. Hello sitting in tent getting rained on while blogging because fuck no, I can not go out here in the dark, scary woods without taking my laptop. I'm glad I did, it's meant I've been able to hide in here for a goodly portion of the day trying to drink away my headache. Fuck you, it's a good idea in theory. And I stopped drinking a couple of hours ago, mostly because the last of the sloe gin ran out and I was feeling sick again. And it's warm and dry in here. And the pillow smells like Enzo, which is sort of killing me while being good and oh, fuck, I'm doing it aga I kind of passed out in front of the fire last night and got rained on, so thanks, Dad, for helping me out of my wet shit and into the tent. I have a feeling I'm going to be asking Rhys to drive the car home. What? Don't drink and drive, kiddies, that shit is bad news.
For those of you are wondering why one Nathan Portnoy is ridiculously inebriated at such an uncivilized hour, get really to get your congratulamations on, because I am now officially part of the fourth decade club. Which apparently means I get a monocle or something. There was a conversation. Details escape me. And Lu is definitely and definitively NOT part of the club, so don't be getting any ideas about this being a joint thirtieth. She was turning 25. Or something. Don't hit me, Lu. My head will fall off, and I sort of need it where it is.
For anybody who I shot texts to last night? Uhhh. Yeah. Just forget anything I said. It wasn't important and I didn't mean it.
I'm not being a very good advertiser for business, am I? Examining the perils of intoxication. But do not fret, do not fear, for when you drink at my place (as opposed to drinking with me while I'm on vacation, a situation in which all rules are summarily suspended. Or put in suspenders, depends on where your mind wanders.) I will absolutely ensure that you won't be sliding bonelessly under the tables and having random people steal your cigarettes. (Also, whoever did steal my cigarettes, I hate you the most and always will, and Thom I am looking at you. Metaphorically speaking. Or... not metaphorically, whatever the right word is. Figuratively? That does sound better. And I'm rambling. If you're still reading at this point, hiiiii. The secret code word is 'squirrel'.)
Home. Soon. In a few hours. I'm putting it off, and not just because it means I have to put the tent away while it's wet. It's entirely due to the fact that I think I sort of fucked Frankie over and I know I'm going to feel increasingly guilty in a direct ratio to proximity. Big words. I has them. No, it's because I have had a weekend of absolute awesomeness and I don't want it to stop. Boo. :) Catch you soon, Seattle. |
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[Aug. 24th, 2011|04:26 pm] |
talk to me, baby, you know you wanna. just open the box and hit post. do it. i dare you. |
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