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Whenever I Get Drunk I Lose My Watch

2002-09-09 - 3:35 p.m.

Wow. Here's a theme we've never seen covered in my journal: It's FUCKING HOT out and my TEETH hurt. Grrrrr. No, seriously, Clyde, it's EASILY 108 out right now. It's making me miss Baker, CA. Ok, not exactly. But I DO miss Corona, CA. Except. Not. At. All. (It's ok Zzyzx, my heart will always stay true!) It's so hot, even in this "air conditioned" computer cluster. Of course, what doesn't help the situation is that as I'm sitting here, in an ATTEMPT to transcribe the story of what happened at yesterday's disastrous staff meeting, the very same dugong that caused all the trouble THEN is sitting next to me in the cluster now making even MORE trouble than yesterday. Well, not more, but a good amount. Wait, we're getting bogged down here. Let's not get bogged. It's a horrible way to start.

Sunday morning started with my alarm going off - at 5:30 a.m. - far earlier than I would have liked it to. Apparently, in my haze (and by "haze" I refer to the clouded effects the Sam Adams Summer Ale had on my already rotted brain) I mistook the 5 for an 8 and set the Dream Machine accordingly. So, after numbly fumbling with the dials and whiz-bangs to wake me up at 8:30 and I went back to sleep. What seemed like 45 seconds later I woke up to the clock reading 8:30 and I got in the shower. Like many Sunday mornings at 1018, bodies were strewn about the place. But they were two familiar bodies (Jimbo & Rich) so I was not alarmed (like I was that time I found Esther Rolle on the couch). So, I met Kate in the parking lot at 10 past 9 while still trying to remember who I was and where I was going. I also had no shoes on and realized I had forgotten my watch. But I was carrying some shoes. So that made things better. But they were my Tevas and they smelled. So that wasn't as cool. I remember saying something to Kate when I got in the car that I could go for one of those "Steak and Shakes" we saw out West. Kate laughed and said "mmmmmmmmmm". She later told me that she thought I had said I could go for "a Steak Shake" to which she laughed at and then after thinking about it briefly decided it would, after all, make a tasty treat (hence the "mmmmmmmmmm"). Anyway, long story short (too late), we got in trouble at the meeting. We were rude dudes with attitude. Except Kate wasn't a dude. And for you former co-workers reading this, I don't think I need to tell you which guy came dressed in skin-tight denim and a G.WILLIKERS HAT on. Please. (Hint: It wasn't Bob, Jim, Jason, or me) So that made it hard enough for us to focus. So of course, we were both hungover, and bored, and gross, and didn't want to pay attention, and weren't very happy with the "management" (as it were) already, so we probably didn't exactly "behave within acceptable parameters." (Unlike that paragon of workplace virtue - ANDREA) ["Yeah! Name check! Waitaminute . . . that wasn't a *good* name check. Booooo!" - Andrea] So, after the first break, BETH suggested that Kate and I be separated (like our names were Johnny and Janey Junior High . . . which for the record, they are not - though, also for the record, after "Josh" {for some inexplicable reason}, "Johnny Junior High" is probably the name I AM most called.) So Beth asked that we be separated to which I then quickly did something to distract everyone's attention so they'd forget what she said. I don't remember what it was though. I might have said something about someone writing "bad checks" and having to "go back on the list" but I don't quite recall. Anyway, it got worse. A lot worse. Bob and Jim are the Chattiest Cathys' this side of the Pecos. They make me seem positively soft spoken and shy. So then, as we are being forced to pass around these catalogs of cool toys we AREN'T ordering and faux-Lite Brite's, which we ARE ordering, Michael brings up that he thinks we should keep a shipping/receiving log book so we can keep track as we get nearer the holidays. Fine fine idea. One that's been suggested for quite some time now. And, I'm glad he brought it up, BUT . . . (and this is a Manning-sized but) the conversation about the log went on. for. 43. minutes. I thought my head was going to explode. Actually, I think my head did explode. And they had to bring me to the hospital. And they put me all back together again. But I had to go to rehab at the old Sacred Heart building next to the old Butcher's Best. And I had to cut out the fatty foods. And eat more fruit. And then I eventually started to eat fatty foods again. And then I went to Six Flags and went on Superman and I loved it. And it was hot. And I got a sunburn. And so I took a cold shower. And I fell asleep under the fan with popsicles in my pants in an attempt to stay cool. And then I got up and had some eggs. And I added cheese to the eggs because I like cheese. And then I went out for a beer at King Tiki. And then I finished my beer and went down the street to G. Willikers. And then I went towards the back and sat down. And then I heard that they WERE STILL MOTHERFUCKING TALKING ABOUT THE WHORECOCKING SHITBITCHING LOOOOOOOG. ("Should it be red? In a three-ring binder? How about green? I like green. Green is pretty. Maybe loose leaf?", etc, Etc, ETC.) And I think I said something to Kate like, "Where does the time go?", or "Does anybody really know what time it is?", or "Time is on my side", or some sort of delicious bon mot like that. Well, whichever one it was, it apparently disrupted the rock-stomping fliggity-flow that the "log discussion" had achieved and this seriously irked Bob. So he threw his pen at me. He threw his pen. At me. At ME!!!! Me! America's Sweetheart!! I was, to say the least, emotionally devastated. Anything else heaped upon my fragile husk at this point would only act as the fatal blow. Bob quickly followed his sleek martial arts display with the biting "Hey, shhhhh!" Well, that did it. I clammed up and didn't speak again for the rest of the meeting (Ha! I sure showed them!). Bob and Jim didn't speak to me again for the rest of the meeting either. As a matter of fact, Jim didn't speak to me the entire time. Man, I think my strong-arm tactics about my (lack of) wages last Friday really rustled some feathers. Well, to paraphrase Reservoir Dogs, "If they're gonna act like bitches, I'm gonna whisper and be immature and act out at meetings like a bitch."

So what happened today as I type this? Well, I'm just trying to sit here, minding my own business, trying to cool down, listening to TH's More Songs About Buildings And Food on the headphones, and the stupid dugong next to me, Kate "don't call me KB" Bedford, decides we both apparently can't be in the same place without being horribly disruptive. You know that Seinfeld with the Tweety Pez? And Elaine is in a position where she is not supposed to laugh. At All. Brooke and I would often fall victim to this "Having To Laugh When You're In A Place Where They Will Put You To Death If You Laugh" situation. Well, just imagine that there was this 4 foot Tweety Pez sitting on my computer.

Kate is IM-ing back and forth with me (which has to be the height of "technology for the lazy" as we were less than 2 feet from each other) when a certain person from Laconia comes in. He's younger than me, but I certainly know him and he knows me. (Let's just say he has the same name as my roommate and his brother has the same name as me) We don't really make eye contact so I don't have to say hi or anything. Kate knows him too and we start Im-ing stupid shit back and forth to each other and it's only making us laugh and draw attention to ourselves even more. And then she just bolts because she's hungry and leaves me to pick up the pieces. Whatever. This kind of stuff never happened when I'd run into Steph, Shara, Effie, or the Megan's on campus. God help me if this is what happens the day I finally see Becca roaming about steel girder-infested Durham. . .

"Spunker2002 looks like a Chuffa Puffa!"

So why exactly was I hungover on Sunday morning? Well, here's the story: We drank Saturday night.

Argh . . . ok, there was a *little* more to it. But first, both B & C-Slopp came down Friday night and met me at the mall. We feasted on Toll House Pie at my place before we made our way back to Tilton.

Conversation that was had while walking into my house before the Toll House Pie:

Z: "Mmmmmm, I can't wait for some THP!"

B: "Don't freak Conner, it's not drugs, we know you don't do drugs."

C: "The only drug I like is TNA!"

Z, B, C: "laugh *beat* laugh *beat* laugh."

Z: "Conner, what you said!"

C: "We call this person in the park 'TNA'."

Z: "I know you two. And how do I just know that you two don't call a hot girl this name, but a short fat boy?"

C, B: "It's true. We do. We do."

Tilton was Tilton. I got along with my mother beautifully Friday night. Probably because I didn't get there until midnight and she was fast asleep. I got up at the crack of hell Saturday morning (making it an even ZERO days I've been able to sleep in since BEFORE we left for California!) and was promptly rousted out of bed by my mother and thrown into the shower (not literally, I'm too big for her to throw) and we were off to Concord to go to my cousin Sarah's wedding. We picked up Sabby first. And before we left Sabby's I snuck into B & C-Slopp's room and rousted THEM awake since I didn't get to sleep in. They just yelled at me and promptly went back to bed. I hate them. The wedding was nice. Even if my mother tripped going up the church stairs. Even if I had to baby-sit Nanny. Even if Nanny got her leg brace CAUGHT IN HER PURSE STRAPS AND I HAD TO DISENTANGLE HER DURING THE CEREMONY. It was fine. Barbie kept pressuring me for an answer about whether I was going to Bryan and Natalie's Surprise Going-Away Party/Engagement Celebration. I told her I wasn't sure because I might have to go to the staff meeting the next morning. (Well, I think we can all sit back and reflect on the decision I made.) The reception was at the Holiday Inn down the street from the church and it was very nice. I could go on and on and on and on and on about the family that was there and who said which inappropriate thing at which inappropriate time, but it's too hot (had I mentioned this?) and my teeth hurt (or that?) so I don't feel like it. Wait, had I not mentioned before this that Bryan and Natalie were engaged? Whoops. I meant to. Bryan and Natalie are engaged.

After the wedding/reception, I went back to Tilton to my mom's. Rich was working at The Gap down the street until 8 so I just met him there when he got out and we hopped on to 140 and traced we traced B & C & Z-Slopp's route backwards from almost 24 hours earlier and made our way back to 1018. Jimbo and Ben, who had been at the beach all day, were there, and were champing at the bit to "just go out and do something." So we did. But since it was almost 11 by the time we left, Portsmouth got vetoed and we went to Barley's in Dover instead, which Rich warned us, as we were going there, that it was a "kind of Hippy Bar". We figured Rich was a card carrying former Hippy so we would be ok. We were. I can't believe I've never been there before. It's so close! Well, "close" like my COAST Bus Stop is "close". It was smoky to be sure and the only liquor they served was schnapps (which Jimbo found out the hard way when he went to order us a round of shots when we first got there and then soon found out we'd be stuck with 4 shot glasses of 99 Bananas!) [Yes! I made my quota of 4 distinctly different jokes in one week in which "99 Bananas" was used in the punchline. Sweet.] The bar was cool. A long thin bar, there was a great band [M.P.E.] playing. They even had a tuba! The place was outfitted with darts, foosball, pool, and couches and tables for cards. We partook in everything but the foosball. I liked Barley's. After last call we left (what did you expect us to do?) but Ben said he wasn't comfortable driving home. But Jim said he was. So Jim and Rich and I took Ben's car back to 1018 and Ben walked. Oh Ben. Funny drinking walking Ben. When we got home, I wasn't really up for all the usual post-bar shenanigans and I knew I had a momentous meeting scheduled for the morning in which I would be assaulted with la stylo. Well, the la stylo part was a lucky guess.

After the meeting, Andrea and I went on campus where I drained what little money I have left on my 4,000 + page, 4,000 + pound Shakespeare book. Real sweet. Super sweet. It's not giving me sciatica or anything. I mean, I ASKED for scoliosis for my birthday and was disappointed no one came through. Oh yeah baby, I gonna be ridin' the Spina Bifida highway from here on out!

After I bought the book, I went back home and introduced Andrea to THP. She liked. Very much. A little TOO much. Ben went home to Laconia for dinner and Rich and Jimbo went to the beach. For EIGHT HOURS. I stayed home like a good little wash girl and cleaned the bathroom and watched Wet Hot American Summer. Twice. Back to back. I love that movie. You should too. And if you don't then I hate you and you're stupid.

"Well, Well, Well. Never has there been a Broadway ditty closer to my heart than 'Day Bidet'."

This morning, as I was leaving for school, I couldn't find my watch. I realized I hadn't had it since Saturday night. I didn't merely "forget it" on the way to the meeting, I lost it. Whenever I get drunk I lose my watch. For like 3 or 4 days. Before I go to bed after drinking I take it off and place [read: "hide"] it somewhere safe [read: "ludicrous"] like the bedside table [read: "in the cheerios"]. So, until I find it, I'm wearing the back-up watch that Andrea got me for my birthday. It's no ordinary watch. It's a Badtz-Maru watch! As Kate said, with my Badtz-Maru CD Case, and now my Badtz-Maru watch, I am definitely ALL ABOUT THE BLING BLING. So true my steak shake drinking friend, so true.

It's been real,

Lysander

ps - Shakespeare Tip #1: Quarter Back Flutie Sips Steak Shakes is a good way of remembering all the Artisans names in "A Midsummer Night's Dream". Quince, Bottom, Flute, Snug, Snout, Starveling. Just saying is all. . .

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