I've been officially ejected from The Rave

I'm not at work- why am I on here?

A: I am bored out of my fucking skull. I didn't want to go out tonight and no one else was lazy enough to stay in so I'm stuck here fuckin' around the apt. I could probably find something useful to do around here but instead I've just holed myself up in my room and am playing guitar and watching TV. And as much as HOME MOVIES rocks- it just ain't cuttin' it, yo.

Yesterday was one of the longest days I've had in a while... In remembering the shit I did some of it seems like it was already a week ago. I had to bolt up to Teutonia to hit the DMV and title my car, which allowed me to sit and read for a while while listening to the elderly couple behind me. They tried to explain to each other the qeueing line principles of the DMV--both were completely wrong--and they also talked about every single person in their line of site as if they were friends or family:

"Oh look- she's leaving now. Oh wait- they're both leaving? I thought he was waiting for himself."

I then skipped out on the rest of my errands to bolt back to the Eastside to catch some Noodles action, which was totally worth it even though it was probably the most ordinary, uneventful bulletin point of the day. This was pre-empting the arrival of Chris and our pilgrimage to the Allister/A Day At the Fair/Houston Calls show. Chris is friends with the DATF guys so I got to tag along as a plus-1 for some backstage action. We had to make three attempts to carry in our beer, finally getting one of the DATF guys to come with me as a "do whatever the fuck you want" card. Good times were had, beer was consumed, we got DATF's merch guy hooked on Spotted Cow and the lead singer of Houston Calls was 5 minutes late to the stage because we were throwing down on the cloves. My buddy Brendan played a piano song with DATF, I was really hoping he was going to fuck up but he managed to make it through. At one point Allister's waiting room--the only room that was segregated--was ransacked for food and beer. Cold and POD were playing upstairs and we stumbled up there a few times, the last of which was after the show we were at was finished and I followed Chris as he went up to everyone he could to ask why they actually paid money to see these bands. It wasn't long until a security guard came over and grabbed us both by the collars and started dragging us to the doors. It took me a moment to realize it wasn't Chris getting us kicked out but the fact that I had just cracked open one of Allister's Bud Lites (high class) out on the floor. They assumed it was a carry-in, which means they also assumed they were stupid enough to allow me to sneak in a carry-in. Without laminated passes they didn't believe that we had gotten the beer from them so they tossed us out and told us to immediately leave to the sidewalk. Instead we walked around the side of the building and hung out on one of the tour buses, contemplated walking back in the band entrance doors and returning right to the security guard who tossed us out... in the end we just took off.



This is the point where I should have probably just called it a night. I had been nursing beers since 6 and I was in that half-drunk stupor where I want to keep drinking but I'm not really pulling enjoyment in from it anymore. But I was stupid and was more excited about getting additions to our group so we picked up Mal and Laura and went over to Aaron's place where a larger party than I thought the Blatz could pull off was going on. I dropped $20 on 4 cups and we each pulled one beer before they were tapped out. Fuck. Add three more to the group and us, Aaron, SS, and Jay all hit up Wolski's. I'm not a good source for information from this point forward. I remember most events and occurances, I just can't be expected to recall conversations or context. I do know that I spent more than I should have on drinks and pitchers and walked out with very light pockets. I do know I couldn't shoot darts worth shit and was probably pretty obviously drunk. I do know that I still wasn't in a fun-drunk state as much as a "eh- cheap beer" state. We apparently closed Wolski's (I'm guessing this from the stickers I now have) and made our way out to IHOP. This was the worst idea in the world. I'm a little worried I suggested it. The day of drinking and moving and taking in information hit me hard while at IHOP and all I wanted was to be at home in bed. By this point I couldn't really be bothered to follow what people were talking about and when I could my brain was on SHUTDOWN mode so I couldn't think of responses. I get the impression that I may have been an asshole from this point on but honestly I can't remember. I know I was very tired and irritated by the fact that it didn't seem like me and Chris could keep up with anything. I think this is my attempt to claim drunkeness as way of apology for things I can't even remember- take it or leave it.

There was actually a shitload more that happened and people involved yesterday but I think this covers the main happenings as well as a yellow hi-liter could.

So I think it's bedtime for me. I'm in a terrible up-and-down mood tonight, and by up-and-down up really means "eh, whatever." Hence the blogging about jack shit at 12:30. My mind is a bit of a mess the past couple weeks (months/years) and finding out tonight that I have until Jan 1st to find a new place to live didn't help. This was a night I really could've used a social setting but just couldn't muster the energy or enthusiasm to get out of the apartment and drive anywhere. I'm kind of hoping sleep works as a dry-erase board eraser. Or white-out. Or maybe those little white-out pens that put down the white out strips like mini pieces of scotch tape. Those things are the shit. You don't even know. Don't pretend. My fingers hurt. Fucking Elixir's. But I would have it no other way.