So, this happened yesterday:
[Scene- Steph and I laying on the couch (ok, we pulled out the bed... yeah, it was a rough day) and I have put on sports center. I turn it on halfway through a story about an inspirational halftime speech from last year's super bowl. I start crying.]
Steph: (looking at me) No.
Me: What? [sniffle]
Steph: No. You can't cry at that. You literally don't have enough information. All you know is that there was an emotional speech- you have no idea what the content was.
Me: But, he was hurt! And it was emotional! [sniffle]
That was just one of several cries from yesterday.
In other news, I think I'm getting to old to binge drink. I never used to get quite so hungover so regularly.
Showing posts with label drinking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label drinking. Show all posts
Monday, September 19, 2011
Thursday, June 23, 2011
the hangover cry
I'm not sure if you know this about me, but I cry a lot. Mostly, I cry at entertainment (movies, songs, tv shows, etc.) and sports (I straight up sobbed when the Giants won the Super Bowl), but sometimes real life stuff gets me choked up.
For some reason, being hungover makes me 3x as susceptible to tears. I think my body is too busy helping my liver clean shit up to worry about a few tears.
Without further ado, here are some of my favorite "hangover cry" highlights:
+Once, I cried at an episode of Tough Love. Yup, that's right, the show where the host (a guy who is way too close to his mother, by the way) gives advice to "undateable" women. Most episodes are ridiculous and demeaning, but there is one where one of the women writes a beautiful and moving letter to one of the other contestants. They used to hate each other and then they became friends! Come on, that is emotional.
+The other week, Steph and I were laying in bed, having just woken up. Apropos of nothing, I exclaimed, "Steph, what if there is no NFL season this year because of the lock out!" and started to cry. I actually think I was still drunk for that one.
+Literally any time I watch Outside the Lines on ESPN. Example: this heart wrenching story. If you don't cry at that, you probably have no soul.
+Way too many sappy rom coms. Usually, my hangover game plan consists of sitting on the couch, drinking as many different types of beverages as possible (juice, tea, flavored water, choco milk, soda, etc.) and eating approximately every 45 minutes. This usually means I end up watching movies on TV that I would normally not watch. Then, I cry at 27 Dresses or some equally shitty movie. Then, I am ashamed.
For some reason, being hungover makes me 3x as susceptible to tears. I think my body is too busy helping my liver clean shit up to worry about a few tears.
Without further ado, here are some of my favorite "hangover cry" highlights:
+Once, I cried at an episode of Tough Love. Yup, that's right, the show where the host (a guy who is way too close to his mother, by the way) gives advice to "undateable" women. Most episodes are ridiculous and demeaning, but there is one where one of the women writes a beautiful and moving letter to one of the other contestants. They used to hate each other and then they became friends! Come on, that is emotional.
+The other week, Steph and I were laying in bed, having just woken up. Apropos of nothing, I exclaimed, "Steph, what if there is no NFL season this year because of the lock out!" and started to cry. I actually think I was still drunk for that one.
+Literally any time I watch Outside the Lines on ESPN. Example: this heart wrenching story. If you don't cry at that, you probably have no soul.
+Way too many sappy rom coms. Usually, my hangover game plan consists of sitting on the couch, drinking as many different types of beverages as possible (juice, tea, flavored water, choco milk, soda, etc.) and eating approximately every 45 minutes. This usually means I end up watching movies on TV that I would normally not watch. Then, I cry at 27 Dresses or some equally shitty movie. Then, I am ashamed.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
the ghost of st. patrick's days past
(I wrote this on St. Patrick's Day but forgot to post it, oops.)
So, I'm working at my office today. This sucks for a number of reasons, not the least of which is the fact that I have had some epic St. Patty's Days in the past few years.
Highlights:
+ shots pre-7am
+ drinking in class
+ car bombs galore
+ falling asleep before noon, only to be woken up 30 minutes later
+ chain smoking on the stoop
+ watching Boondock Saints
+ being completely blacked out in the dining hall
+ cookies to the UPS man... "thank you green woman!"
+ the year I got too high to really enjoy St. Patrick's Day
+ never quite being able to make it to the Boston parade
Being a grown up is balls.
So, I'm working at my office today. This sucks for a number of reasons, not the least of which is the fact that I have had some epic St. Patty's Days in the past few years.
Highlights:
+ shots pre-7am
+ drinking in class
+ car bombs galore
+ falling asleep before noon, only to be woken up 30 minutes later
+ chain smoking on the stoop
+ watching Boondock Saints
+ being completely blacked out in the dining hall
+ cookies to the UPS man... "thank you green woman!"
+ the year I got too high to really enjoy St. Patrick's Day
+ never quite being able to make it to the Boston parade
Being a grown up is balls.
Friday, July 30, 2010
it's so haaaaard to say goodbyeeeee to yesterdaaaaaaaaay
It's getting close to moving day, which is weird. We're going to Punter's tonight with some friends for our last big night out. So, I choose to compose a list of things I will miss about Boston.
Things I will miss about Boston (in no particular order):
+ Punter's. I spent a good portion of my time and money in that fine establishment this past year. I think the highlight (or possibly lowlight) was bringing a group there during class time to discuss projects.
+ Knowing where to go to eat/drink/hang out/etc. in a lot of different neighborhoods.
+ My friends.
+ Football Sundays with the crew.
+ Boston sports teams losing.
+ Coolidge/Kendall movie theaters
+ Ryder Hall, because I was there when I wasn't at Punter's.
+ Navigating the MFA like a pro because of all the Art History classes I had there.
+ Never going to Faneuil Hall, because it sucks.
+ Flann's, specifically karaoke at Flann's. Is it bad that I have two bars on this list...?
+ Watching SYTYCD (and other ridiculous shows) with Molly.
+ Autumn and going to Salem.
+ Making fun of the T for being so shitty.
Okay, I have to get going to Punt's now. Perhaps I'll add to this list later.
Things I will miss about Boston (in no particular order):
+ Punter's. I spent a good portion of my time and money in that fine establishment this past year. I think the highlight (or possibly lowlight) was bringing a group there during class time to discuss projects.
+ Knowing where to go to eat/drink/hang out/etc. in a lot of different neighborhoods.
+ My friends.
+ Football Sundays with the crew.
+ Boston sports teams losing.
+ Coolidge/Kendall movie theaters
+ Ryder Hall, because I was there when I wasn't at Punter's.
+ Navigating the MFA like a pro because of all the Art History classes I had there.
+ Never going to Faneuil Hall, because it sucks.
+ Flann's, specifically karaoke at Flann's. Is it bad that I have two bars on this list...?
+ Watching SYTYCD (and other ridiculous shows) with Molly.
+ Autumn and going to Salem.
+ Making fun of the T for being so shitty.
Okay, I have to get going to Punt's now. Perhaps I'll add to this list later.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
a case of the post-drinking up earlies
In bed after 1am and up before 6am. I can just feel the hangover coming.
Anyway, I'm going home to the magical land of New Jersey tomorrow. It should be nice because:
a) I'm broke and my parents will feed me.
b) I haven't been home since Christmas.
c) I get to see/hang with my friends.
d) I get to cuddle with Dakota! (who is the best dog, if you don't know me that well.)
Steph and I hopefully found an apartment in DC! (All thanks to my lovely, wonderful, amazing, helpful sister-in-law and [kind of] brother!) It's in a super great location (just outside of Dupont Circle, funz!) which happens to be really close to the City Year office (we're talking around-the-corner-close). It's a "junior" one bedroom. This means the bedroom is pretty tiny, but there is space in the rest of the apartment and it's cheaper than a regular one bedroom. Fine by me.
I'm now going to go edit west coast photos and wonder why I'm awake.
Anyway, I'm going home to the magical land of New Jersey tomorrow. It should be nice because:
a) I'm broke and my parents will feed me.
b) I haven't been home since Christmas.
c) I get to see/hang with my friends.
d) I get to cuddle with Dakota! (who is the best dog, if you don't know me that well.)
Steph and I hopefully found an apartment in DC! (All thanks to my lovely, wonderful, amazing, helpful sister-in-law and [kind of] brother!) It's in a super great location (just outside of Dupont Circle, funz!) which happens to be really close to the City Year office (we're talking around-the-corner-close). It's a "junior" one bedroom. This means the bedroom is pretty tiny, but there is space in the rest of the apartment and it's cheaper than a regular one bedroom. Fine by me.
I'm now going to go edit west coast photos and wonder why I'm awake.
Friday, June 18, 2010
a day in the life of Jenna
(please note that all times are approximate)
12:45 am - Stumble into hostel room and attempt to quietly make bed. This is made difficult by the fact that I am on the top bunk of a rickety bunk bed and am drunk. Apparently, I shook the bed enough to give Steph the spins.
12:55 am - Set three alarms on my cell phone for the morning: 6:22 am, 6:52 am, 7:32 am. I have decided I am nothing less than a true patriot because I'm getting up for the USA World Cup soccer match.
12:56 am - Pass the fuck out.
5:44 am - Wake up. Look at time. Wonder why I woke up. Notice that I somehow bunched all the blankets into a mountain on the side of the bed.
5:48 am - Decide that I have to pee really badly and need to get up soon anyway so I just get out of bed.
6:00 am - Stumble into common area and drunkenly write my dad's father's day card while watching the World Cup.
6:30 am - Eat some leftover cheeseburger and fries from the night before. Cold.
6:45 am - Stumble to post office and mail my dad's card. Head to bar I was drinking at the night before because they have beer specials during the soccer matches.
7:05 am - Enter bar and sit down. I order a pitcher of Bud Light sheepishly and the waitress laughs and says, "I love it."
7:45 am - Am starting to feel rather intoxicated and self-conscious that I am drinking an entire pitcher of beer alone before 8 in the morning. Text friends to seem less like an alcoholic.
8:30 am - Have become a huge soccer fan and am horrified by bad calls. I am starting to yell at the TV. I text Steph to see if she wants to wake up and join me and get no response.
9:00 am - Call my dad on the walk back to the hostel and rant about the soccer match. I am drunk.
9:10 am - Fall back into hostel bed and pass the fuck out.
11:00 am - Wake up still drunk. Steph has showered and is ready to greet the day. I slur at her to look at ESPN.com and make her watch video replay of the shitty soccer calls. She humors me.
11:15 am - Eat more of my cold cheeseburger and fries (with ranch).
11:30 am - Walk to quaint seaside village with shopping/food. Am starting to get hungover.
12:15 pm - Order another Bud Light to take the edge off.
12:45 pm - Roll up my jeans (which I will later regret, as I now have ridiculous lines on my shins) and pass the fuck out on some grass by the water.
2:00 pm - Start harassing Steph to amuse me.
2:30 pm - Eat clam chowder (even though it was like 80 degrees) and pound some water.
3:30 pm - Lay back down in hostel. Decide to go see Toy Story 3.
4:25 pm - Watch Toy Story 3, which is awesome. Get choked up at beginning and straight up cry at the end. Steph mocks me.
6:45 pm - Go to Petco Park and watch the Padres play. We decide to sit in the all you can eat ticket section. I am probably too excited.
7:00 pm - Consume two hot dogs with the works. And popcorn. And sprite. Try a piece of Steph's veggie dog and decide it is weird.
8:30 pm - Get one more hot dog and hoard popcorn/peanuts/water, as the all you can eat food is ending soon.
8:40 pm - Regret getting last hot dog about two bites in and stop after 1/2.
10:00 pm - Padres pull off walk-off win in 9th. Fireworks! Flames!
10:30 pm - My body hates me for what I did to it today.
12:45 am - Stumble into hostel room and attempt to quietly make bed. This is made difficult by the fact that I am on the top bunk of a rickety bunk bed and am drunk. Apparently, I shook the bed enough to give Steph the spins.
12:55 am - Set three alarms on my cell phone for the morning: 6:22 am, 6:52 am, 7:32 am. I have decided I am nothing less than a true patriot because I'm getting up for the USA World Cup soccer match.
12:56 am - Pass the fuck out.
5:44 am - Wake up. Look at time. Wonder why I woke up. Notice that I somehow bunched all the blankets into a mountain on the side of the bed.
5:48 am - Decide that I have to pee really badly and need to get up soon anyway so I just get out of bed.
6:00 am - Stumble into common area and drunkenly write my dad's father's day card while watching the World Cup.
6:30 am - Eat some leftover cheeseburger and fries from the night before. Cold.
6:45 am - Stumble to post office and mail my dad's card. Head to bar I was drinking at the night before because they have beer specials during the soccer matches.
7:05 am - Enter bar and sit down. I order a pitcher of Bud Light sheepishly and the waitress laughs and says, "I love it."
7:45 am - Am starting to feel rather intoxicated and self-conscious that I am drinking an entire pitcher of beer alone before 8 in the morning. Text friends to seem less like an alcoholic.
8:30 am - Have become a huge soccer fan and am horrified by bad calls. I am starting to yell at the TV. I text Steph to see if she wants to wake up and join me and get no response.
9:00 am - Call my dad on the walk back to the hostel and rant about the soccer match. I am drunk.
9:10 am - Fall back into hostel bed and pass the fuck out.
11:00 am - Wake up still drunk. Steph has showered and is ready to greet the day. I slur at her to look at ESPN.com and make her watch video replay of the shitty soccer calls. She humors me.
11:15 am - Eat more of my cold cheeseburger and fries (with ranch).
11:30 am - Walk to quaint seaside village with shopping/food. Am starting to get hungover.
12:15 pm - Order another Bud Light to take the edge off.
12:45 pm - Roll up my jeans (which I will later regret, as I now have ridiculous lines on my shins) and pass the fuck out on some grass by the water.
2:00 pm - Start harassing Steph to amuse me.
2:30 pm - Eat clam chowder (even though it was like 80 degrees) and pound some water.
3:30 pm - Lay back down in hostel. Decide to go see Toy Story 3.
4:25 pm - Watch Toy Story 3, which is awesome. Get choked up at beginning and straight up cry at the end. Steph mocks me.
6:45 pm - Go to Petco Park and watch the Padres play. We decide to sit in the all you can eat ticket section. I am probably too excited.
7:00 pm - Consume two hot dogs with the works. And popcorn. And sprite. Try a piece of Steph's veggie dog and decide it is weird.
8:30 pm - Get one more hot dog and hoard popcorn/peanuts/water, as the all you can eat food is ending soon.
8:40 pm - Regret getting last hot dog about two bites in and stop after 1/2.
10:00 pm - Padres pull off walk-off win in 9th. Fireworks! Flames!
10:30 pm - My body hates me for what I did to it today.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
vino!
'Bout to get our wine tasting on in NAPA, bitches. I wish people could just bring us wine in our hotel room because it is a heavenly oasis (especially compared to hostel life).
Rest of San Fran was sweet (but I never got any Rice-A-Roni; SUPER SAD). We went to a free comedy show at The Purple Onion, which, if memory serves me correctly, is the club featured in the DVD of the Zach Galifianakis Comedy Hour. If I'm right, I'm totally awesome because I watched that DVD while I was rather intoxicated (thanks for being a good influence, older brother who supplied me with said intoxicants).
We drove up yesterday through Muir Woods (fucking huge Redwoods all up ons) and took the Shoreline Highway, also known as California One. If you love The Decemberists, like I do, you will know that they have a song about that (from the album Castaways and Cutouts, I believe). My brilliant plan was to listen to it as we drove, but the iPod connector in the car was complete shit. (Damn you Zipcar!!! ... just kidding, I love you. You complete me.) I had to settle for FM radio in the middle of nowhere. Hellooooo country music.
Anyway, the drive was gorgeous but a little scary because the road is really curvy and it basically drops off to a sheer cliff like a foot off the side of the road. Steph navigated it with caution and care, however, and we survived.
I hate to leave you all but I just have to go taste a lot of delicious wine. Life is so hard.
Rest of San Fran was sweet (but I never got any Rice-A-Roni; SUPER SAD). We went to a free comedy show at The Purple Onion, which, if memory serves me correctly, is the club featured in the DVD of the Zach Galifianakis Comedy Hour. If I'm right, I'm totally awesome because I watched that DVD while I was rather intoxicated (thanks for being a good influence, older brother who supplied me with said intoxicants).
We drove up yesterday through Muir Woods (fucking huge Redwoods all up ons) and took the Shoreline Highway, also known as California One. If you love The Decemberists, like I do, you will know that they have a song about that (from the album Castaways and Cutouts, I believe). My brilliant plan was to listen to it as we drove, but the iPod connector in the car was complete shit. (Damn you Zipcar!!! ... just kidding, I love you. You complete me.) I had to settle for FM radio in the middle of nowhere. Hellooooo country music.
Anyway, the drive was gorgeous but a little scary because the road is really curvy and it basically drops off to a sheer cliff like a foot off the side of the road. Steph navigated it with caution and care, however, and we survived.
I hate to leave you all but I just have to go taste a lot of delicious wine. Life is so hard.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
rainbows, sunshine and foreign friends
Sorry I haven't posted in a while (okay, I bet no one cares), the internet at our SF hostel is being stupid and I didn't want to blog from a shared computer. Yes, I'm ashamed of you. You're like my bastard child.
Anyway, San Francisco is cool. I was disappointed that no one offered me Rice-A-Roni as soon as we set foot in the city. What can you do? I kind of want to buy some and make it in the hostel, but I haven't had it since I was like 12 and I can't remember if I actually like it. I probably do, it's just kind of rice with other shit. End Rice-A-Roni talk.
So this hostel is way different than the last one. If the last one felt like staying in someone's house, this one feels like staying in a friend of a friend's college dorm. I can't tell who actually works there and it's just generally not run as well (in my opinion). That being said, it's still totally fine and I'm enjoying myself.
We've done a bunch of exploring: Fisherman's Wharf, North Beach (where my I-talian people live), the touristy piers, the Mission, the Castro, Lombard Street (ridiculously designed "crookedest street") and probably other things I'm forgetting. We're still here a while so we're going to do the Golden Gate Bridge and other key SF things. Castro was super gay, of course, which was neat. Huge rainbow flags everywhere and lots of other homos hanging about. We passed by the store front where Harvey Milk based all his stuff out of, so that was neat.
The weather here has been the most consistently good/sunshine-y of our trip which is super duper. We've just walked around a ton and I love it. Steph, being too Irish, got a nasty sunburn already. Then she got a sunburn on top of her sunburn: now that is talent. Speaking of Irish, I've gotten really into the Celtics. This stems more from my hatred of the Lakers (and Kobe/Artest/Gasol), which seems to have trumped my hatred of Boston sports. For now.
Anyway, we watched the game last night with some new friends (British chick and two Swiss guys) and that was fun. The British chick LOVED my British accent (suck it, Steph). Highlight of night: Steph got the hiccups and the two Swiss dudes picked her up, flipped her upside-down and shook her on the sidewalk. Unconventional, yes, but it did cure her hiccups so I call it a win.
Last thing: dude in my room was snoring so loud last night that the management actually made him go to a private room. I slept through it. YES EAR PLUGS.
Anyway, San Francisco is cool. I was disappointed that no one offered me Rice-A-Roni as soon as we set foot in the city. What can you do? I kind of want to buy some and make it in the hostel, but I haven't had it since I was like 12 and I can't remember if I actually like it. I probably do, it's just kind of rice with other shit. End Rice-A-Roni talk.
So this hostel is way different than the last one. If the last one felt like staying in someone's house, this one feels like staying in a friend of a friend's college dorm. I can't tell who actually works there and it's just generally not run as well (in my opinion). That being said, it's still totally fine and I'm enjoying myself.
We've done a bunch of exploring: Fisherman's Wharf, North Beach (where my I-talian people live), the touristy piers, the Mission, the Castro, Lombard Street (ridiculously designed "crookedest street") and probably other things I'm forgetting. We're still here a while so we're going to do the Golden Gate Bridge and other key SF things. Castro was super gay, of course, which was neat. Huge rainbow flags everywhere and lots of other homos hanging about. We passed by the store front where Harvey Milk based all his stuff out of, so that was neat.
The weather here has been the most consistently good/sunshine-y of our trip which is super duper. We've just walked around a ton and I love it. Steph, being too Irish, got a nasty sunburn already. Then she got a sunburn on top of her sunburn: now that is talent. Speaking of Irish, I've gotten really into the Celtics. This stems more from my hatred of the Lakers (and Kobe/Artest/Gasol), which seems to have trumped my hatred of Boston sports. For now.
Anyway, we watched the game last night with some new friends (British chick and two Swiss guys) and that was fun. The British chick LOVED my British accent (suck it, Steph). Highlight of night: Steph got the hiccups and the two Swiss dudes picked her up, flipped her upside-down and shook her on the sidewalk. Unconventional, yes, but it did cure her hiccups so I call it a win.
Last thing: dude in my room was snoring so loud last night that the management actually made him go to a private room. I slept through it. YES EAR PLUGS.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
hostel life, part two
Things at the old hostel got way better last night. We made friends and played Trivial Pursuit and Apples to Apples while drinking cheap wine and PBR. (fun fact: people LOVE PBR here. There are artistic billboards depicting PBR cans. Also, I got a 6 pack of 16oz. cans for $4.99. $4.99. And there ain't no tax to trifle with either.). I always forget how much I love Apples to Apples until I play again and things like "friendly AIDS" happen.
Today it is actually not raining, so we might go check out a mountain/volcano thingy. Then the Celtics are on and I am actually going to root for them because Kobe can suck my balls. Steph is pleased.
Dunkleman OUT.
Today it is actually not raining, so we might go check out a mountain/volcano thingy. Then the Celtics are on and I am actually going to root for them because Kobe can suck my balls. Steph is pleased.
Dunkleman OUT.
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