Guess what, it’s Halloween. You know what that means. PARTEEEEEEEE
- Our plumbing broke. It was not fun. Riley literally cleaned up shit off the basement floor. This was not the “good” part of the weekend. What’s worse is that we realized our plumbing had broken the day we were going to have a party. Really good timing. If our plumbing was a person, I would have punched it in its uggo face.
- We had said party. There were a lot of people there I didn’t know, which was ok by me. Someone called the cops at 9:30 in the pm when our friends Brainbows were playing on the stage Riley and Brian, our bassist, made all by themselves in about an hour (ok, it was mostly Brian who made it. He’s a carpenter. Sorry, boyfriend.). I have a feeling these people who called the police were old. My neighbor Emily said they called the cops on her once for playing music too loud on her computer speakers. I also have experience with having people rat me out for loud computer speakers.
- We moved the party inside. The couch had to be moved into the kitchen to make room for our stuff, and a lot of people sat on it while in said kitchen. It was weird for me to see strangers on my couch in my kitchen, but it was also strangely gratifying.
- Brainbows finished up their set, and we (SPIRALFIRE YES ALL CAPS CAUSE YOU KNOW THAT’S HOW I ROLL) went on around 11 or so. It was super fun but we played our songs really fast, which made me tired and out of breath.
- Everyone went home. Some of us went to the 506 for a dance party. It was fun for an hour or so, but I got tired really fast because I had already drunk a lot of PBR from the keg we got. That was a bad idea. It was also a running theme for the weekend.
- We went home. We passed out.
- I got up at exactly 12:30 in the pm. I drank a bunch of orange juice and then some coffee. I played on facehole some. I went outside and drank some more orange juice and coffee and sat around the new firebowl we have. I should note that I had on my pajamas the entire time I was outside on Saturday, and that our neighbors came over to visit while I was in my pajamas. Also, my hair looked like this:
It is a wonder nobody has had an intervention for me yet.
- Riley is obsessed with the firebowl. We have really had a fire burning in it since Friday night, no joke. It is now 11:17 in the Sunday pm and he is still out there burning sticks and dirt because there’s nothing else to burn in the yard.
- I started drinking more PBR from the keg and picked up some pecans off the ground for a pie that I have yet to make. I have a feeling this pie will not get made, ever, because pecans you have to shell yourself are a pain in the a-hole. Sure, I’d like to be the kind of girl who shells her own pecans from the trees in the back yard and makes her own pecan pies out of them, and maybe at some point I will be that, but right now, I am the kind of girl who drinks the leftover PBR in the keg at 1 in the pm and throws things on the fire because it is fun to watch shit burn.
- I finally took a shower at 4 in the pm and put on real clothes instead of pajama clothes. I went back outside and looked at the fire and got black boogies as a result and hung out with neighbors and fun dog friend. His name is Cota and he doesn’t care about anything except not expending too much energy and his toy soccer ball. Also, he likes to pee. This is something we have in common. He probably likes to eat a lot too, which is also something we would have in common.
- Riley and I went to eat at a restaurant, then we got stuff to make Smores and went to our friend’s apartment. We stayed there a little while, then I got tired from having drunk too much leftover keg beer.
- We went home. I passed out. Snore.
- Sunday was not so fun. I did the most work I’ve done on any given day since summer at least. But then after I was done, I had more beer from the party. Beer, beer, beer. I am totally dehydrated, and I probably look like a wrinkly old woman. Also, my beer gut has tripled in size since Friday. On top of that, my diet has consisted of sugar cookies, m&m’s, and peanuts for the whole last 3 days. Tomorrow, I will start P90X for the eleventy-millionth time and will eat like a normal person again instead of eating like I have a parasite and live in a third-world country. What the hell is wrong with me. Stop eating, please.
- Headbanging during music playing = pain. I don’t know why I haven’t learned this yet, but I haven’t. I got into it a little too much on Friday night, and today, it feels like my neck and shoulders and back are on fire. I took Advil, put Icy Hot on it, and took a bath with Epsom salts. Nothing is helping. Ok, the beer is helping a little.
- I’m passing out. Right after I drink the leftover Duck Rabbit sitting on my nightstand. Yes, I had beer in bed the other night, and left it on the nightstand, and am drinking it lukewarm now. At least I’m not wasteful. Don’t judge.
The lessons from this weekend are:
- No more headbanging because it makes you have hurty neck times 2010.
- Fires + neighbors + dogs + pecans = fun
The last one is not so much a lesson as it is a thing that exists, mostly in my stomach.
I leave you with my favorite essay of all time, and it’s seasonally appropriate, too. This man is a genius, and I’m going to have a hundred grillion of his babies. That’s right, I made up a new number. It not only means “a lot” and sounds like “a bajillion,” which is now an accepted number in the world of mathematics (it’s not), but it also makes you think of grilling, which is fun and has to do with meat and nice dead flesh smells.