Drunk at Wedding

I got drunk, am still drunk, due to an open bar at a wedding that was not my own. People are in love, and joined, the world is beautiful. Blah. I think I might impale myself because I became rather chatty after four whisky and sodas and the pain in general that comes from overanalyizing my actions is about to consume me. Not to mention I ran into a girl I went to grade school with. Mind you grade school was when I was smart and responsible and sophisticated as opposed to lazy, cynical, and inebriated. So with that stab in the gut of my ego, I also discover two other folks who's Halloween party I crashed about a million years ago with my drug dealer friend. Art students at Webster who all got jazzed on Ecstacy and flopped all around their house. So much chronology shouldn't be in one room. I did make a friend, but she lives in Chicago and also I had fun with Ryan's friends which means I must have been drunk which also means maybe that I should have hung out with them more often when they were in town instead of being the shy pidgeon that I am. Also I smorked a stolen cigarette and a half which I said I'd stop doing, but apparently haven't. Glarg.
I'll try not to write too many more blogs drunk so the three to four folks who partake of my rambling don't have to suffer through the self-pity. I love you guys, really I do.