Of all of my friends in Denver, I am one of the few that is not on Spring Break. To be completely honest, this week I should just be relaxing and being boring. I have a half-marathon on Sunday, all of Denver smells of heavy smoke...and it's the middle of the work week. I do have a full-time job...and I technically I do stuff.
For some reason, I have been amping up my random drunk and wildly young and inappropriate nights this week. This is not the misplaced yinzer that I normally am.
On Monday, I pulled a muscle in my back while lifting weights. My dad is bomb.com and told me how to fix it. But, it still hurt. And I couldn't work out. And I couldn't take a sick day, because I haven't worked at my job for 90 days (stupid policies that people like myself write).
Anyway, I got pissed at work and decided to go see the Hunger Games after work. I fully intended to go by myself, but one of my new work colleagues (let's name her KO) said that she wanted to go as well.
I had to work a bit later than normal, because I was processing payroll. Because of that, I barely had any time to change/relax/live. So, I decided to have a glass of wine and make a frozen pizza for dinner. My glass of wine turned into 2 as I watched the pizza defrost and slowly bake in my high-altitude oven. When KO came over, I had 2 glasses of wine (within 20 minutes) and had made a half-cooked pizza. We were late, so I did the only logical thing: I dumped two bottles of wine in nalgenes and threw the dough-y mess of cheese and sausage into a tupperwear container and then ran out of the door.
With 1.5 liters of wine and 3,000 calories of pizza in my bag, I went to the movies. As I started to watch the Hunger Games, I drank my wine and ate the whole damn pizza. I was supposed to share both the wine and the pizza, but KO never got up the cojones to ask me for any....and my semi-only child flaired up into overwhelming selfishness.
I have a higher tolerance than some people, but it turns out that two bottles of wine gets me kinda fucked up. During the movie, I turned hella minority and started to react dramatically. "BITCH, GET UP OUT DEM DAMN WOODS!" may have unironically escaped from my lips. I don't feel bad and I don't think that many people judged me. The odds were ever in my favor.
As I was leaving, KO mentioned that she might be leaving our organization soon. I didn't mention Harvard, but I told her that it was a good plan and that she should always go after new adventures and more money. Since working in finance, I have realized that business is business and everyone/everything revolves around money.
****
Yesterday, I decided that I was going to relax and have some vino while watching shitty reality television. 2 glasses with dinner was my goal. My goal was interrupted by a friend inviting me out for their late birthday celebration. (They were on Spring Break and wanted to get "crunk" on Tuesday.)
Rule #76: No Excuses, play like a champion.
Since I want a surprise birthday party/highly value birthday parties, I finished my reality tv show and bottle of wine, and literally ran 1.5 miles to the bar. I have no idea why I ran 1.5 miles drunk on wine, but I did. And more importantly, I was proud that I ran that distance as the dinner and wine sloshed around in my stomach.
Once at the bar, their idea of getting drunk turned into polite conversation over tacos. I had misread the intentionality of the night, but was totally fine with everything...until I saw my Mexican prom dates. I got called over by the Mexican pretty girl mafia and then had a kind of epic night.
I spent the entire night cockblocking guys that voraciously were spitting game. I also spent the entire night having them get me free drinks and challenge people to dance offs. Post winning dance offs, we would make the group of Denver hipsters buy us shots of tequila. Then, in Spanish, we would make fun of them for being hipsters.
By no means were we being polite or fun, but people kept coming up and desperately wanted to be our friends. I'm aware that dudes were spitting game to las bonitas, but everyone was talking to us. And a bunch of people rocked out a "I really want to be your friend. Do you come here every Tuesday?"
First off, I support that comment...because, it's honest. Second, I don't go out on Tuesday, because I HAVE A FUCKING FULL TIME JOB. Except, for you know, when I do go out on Tuesday.
Anyway, I gave my business card to people. I challenged and won dance offs. I made fun of hipsters, after drinking their drinks....and I got to speak Spanish. I'd say that was a solid net positive day.
For some reason, I have been amping up my random drunk and wildly young and inappropriate nights this week. This is not the misplaced yinzer that I normally am.
On Monday, I pulled a muscle in my back while lifting weights. My dad is bomb.com and told me how to fix it. But, it still hurt. And I couldn't work out. And I couldn't take a sick day, because I haven't worked at my job for 90 days (stupid policies that people like myself write).
Anyway, I got pissed at work and decided to go see the Hunger Games after work. I fully intended to go by myself, but one of my new work colleagues (let's name her KO) said that she wanted to go as well.
I had to work a bit later than normal, because I was processing payroll. Because of that, I barely had any time to change/relax/live. So, I decided to have a glass of wine and make a frozen pizza for dinner. My glass of wine turned into 2 as I watched the pizza defrost and slowly bake in my high-altitude oven. When KO came over, I had 2 glasses of wine (within 20 minutes) and had made a half-cooked pizza. We were late, so I did the only logical thing: I dumped two bottles of wine in nalgenes and threw the dough-y mess of cheese and sausage into a tupperwear container and then ran out of the door.
With 1.5 liters of wine and 3,000 calories of pizza in my bag, I went to the movies. As I started to watch the Hunger Games, I drank my wine and ate the whole damn pizza. I was supposed to share both the wine and the pizza, but KO never got up the cojones to ask me for any....and my semi-only child flaired up into overwhelming selfishness.
I have a higher tolerance than some people, but it turns out that two bottles of wine gets me kinda fucked up. During the movie, I turned hella minority and started to react dramatically. "BITCH, GET UP OUT DEM DAMN WOODS!" may have unironically escaped from my lips. I don't feel bad and I don't think that many people judged me. The odds were ever in my favor.
As I was leaving, KO mentioned that she might be leaving our organization soon. I didn't mention Harvard, but I told her that it was a good plan and that she should always go after new adventures and more money. Since working in finance, I have realized that business is business and everyone/everything revolves around money.
****
Yesterday, I decided that I was going to relax and have some vino while watching shitty reality television. 2 glasses with dinner was my goal. My goal was interrupted by a friend inviting me out for their late birthday celebration. (They were on Spring Break and wanted to get "crunk" on Tuesday.)
Rule #76: No Excuses, play like a champion.
Since I want a surprise birthday party/highly value birthday parties, I finished my reality tv show and bottle of wine, and literally ran 1.5 miles to the bar. I have no idea why I ran 1.5 miles drunk on wine, but I did. And more importantly, I was proud that I ran that distance as the dinner and wine sloshed around in my stomach.
Once at the bar, their idea of getting drunk turned into polite conversation over tacos. I had misread the intentionality of the night, but was totally fine with everything...until I saw my Mexican prom dates. I got called over by the Mexican pretty girl mafia and then had a kind of epic night.
I spent the entire night cockblocking guys that voraciously were spitting game. I also spent the entire night having them get me free drinks and challenge people to dance offs. Post winning dance offs, we would make the group of Denver hipsters buy us shots of tequila. Then, in Spanish, we would make fun of them for being hipsters.
By no means were we being polite or fun, but people kept coming up and desperately wanted to be our friends. I'm aware that dudes were spitting game to las bonitas, but everyone was talking to us. And a bunch of people rocked out a "I really want to be your friend. Do you come here every Tuesday?"
First off, I support that comment...because, it's honest. Second, I don't go out on Tuesday, because I HAVE A FUCKING FULL TIME JOB. Except, for you know, when I do go out on Tuesday.
Anyway, I gave my business card to people. I challenged and won dance offs. I made fun of hipsters, after drinking their drinks....and I got to speak Spanish. I'd say that was a solid net positive day.
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