(no subject)

I would just like to start out with a tip of the hat to peaseblossom03, because it was she who, years ago, passed on this precious bit of advice that has saved more than one Morning After for me:

"Don't fall asleep till you're sober."

Works every time. I've only been anywhere near truly hungover once, and that was because I disregarded that advice. So in case you didn't know: When you get drunk, don't go to sleep till you're sober (or at least mostly sober, which I define as being able to lie down and close your eyes without getting dizzy) and you'll feel human in the morning.

Anyway. Yesterday I had my golden birthday, and it was rather nice. I had to work, but it was so dead it was ridiculous. Our store has two registers, and my register always gets the most business since it's closest to the door. Usually I do around $2100 to $2500. Yesterday? $1600. Ridiculous.

My coworker Jodie and I hatched a plan to go out for drinks after work. Saving time leaving was crucial, though, since we get out of work at midnight and bars in Maine close at one. We hustled getting our end paperwork done, snuck out during our shift to get clothes to change into (we both live like two seconds away from the store), and got out of there at midnight on the dot insead of quarter after like usual.

As it turned out, even though we were on foot, this was still plenty of time for two SoCo on ice, a double shot of tequila (this was the bartender's idea and my first tequila shot, so Jodie had to coach me a bit), and a Corona. All on an empty stomach. And I hardly ever drink hard liquor. So you can imagine the state I was in, and by rights I should feel like shit right now but, thanks to Peasey, I feel fine. I came home, drank water, ate food, checked my friendslist, and watched Lois and Clark until I could see straight, then I went to bed.

The friendslist! You guys are awesome. I got lots of birthday wishes, offers of mp3's, a lovely tri-team picspam from piney61 (which is even lovelier now that I can, you know, focus my eyes on it), and porn from americanleaguer. Thanks to everyone! &heart;

(no subject)

ZOMG THEO THEO THEO.

I saw it on the news while I was having dinner at my grandparents' (Grandma took me to a follow-up appointment for my teeth since I don't drive; it consisted of five seconds of examination and five minutes of talking about the Tigers, it was great). I was watching with Grandpa, who was trying to tell me about how he might get a new printer and if he does I can have his old one, which is awesome if I can find a way to set it up, BUT THEY ARE TALKING ABOUT THEO GRANDPA SO KINDLY TO ZIP IT. Which he did, though if it was because he was finished or saw that I was trying to politely tune him out I have no idea.

So I was squeeing in my chair and Grandpa was just like, ". . ." I explained, "Theo's back!" "Oh, that jerk. Why'd he leave, then?" Me, waving a hand vaguely around: ". . . politic stuff." The idea of trying to explain about Lucchino to my hard-of-hearing grandfather was a bit too much for me. Sometimes a short answer is best.

BUT THEO IS BACK AND HE IS OUR GM AND EVERYTHING IS AWESOME AGAIN AND YAY AND I HOPE LUCCHINO CAN'T SLEEP BECAUSE YOU LOST BITCH. Because, yeah. If he did leave over a power struggle, they must have promised him something to bring him back. More autonomy in deal-making and such, perhaps.

THEO.

Dammit, my Theo icon is on the broken computer. Oh, well. This icon is always good in a pinch. =D