I am repulsive

Normally I am the best drinker ever. By which I mean I hit tipsy quickly and maintain it without falling into the the sloshing around with underwear on head raging kind of drunk (I do get silly, but I get silly without liquor if I'm in the right mix--bless my f'ed brain chemisry for that). I don't get sick, maybe a little headache-y the next day. Because of this I usually roll my eyes at other folks post-party woes, playing the part of Miss-Drunky-Know-It-All. Since I spent most of yesterday going from toilet to bed toilet ot bed, with a stop on the floor for good measure, I want to apologize. First to all those hungover schmoes who've come before me; who's pain I found quaint as I sipped coffee and ate eggs and listened to loud, happy music. And secondly to myself, because goddamn I haven't hurt that badly in a long time. Probably I should have known what I was in for when I opted to bring a bottle of Jameson and my own shot glass to a party full of people I only half-know. Social awkwardness=bottle to lips. Probably should not have indulged at all consdering the roaring sinus infection that's plagued me all week. But I am dumb and was wearing a costume and I was very relieved that the slutty costumes of he previous night made way for the more maturely creepy costumes of my almost friends (Hellion as naaaasty Boy Scout leader, Luna as shiny faced, yellow-suited, creep the hell out of everyone bank robber) and some legitimately sexy costumes (Foxy as the Bride from Kill Bill in a yellow jumpsuit that would look ridiculous on anyone besides a six-foot blonde). I went with Enid because I had to scrub the perfect off from the night before. Low and behold a handful of the best people got it. Not that that really matters after what now seems like half a million shots of whiskey. Ryan, I mean, Zombie Elvis, M.D., was a real trooper playing designated driver at a party full of people he hardly knows and with none of the nipple slippage of the last derby outing he attended. Since I'm at about 85% today I can look back fondly--I think hangovers may be like giving birth, the pain is forgotten so that you can fall right back into the trap agian.