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I can't sleep yet.

Screwed up daycycle, combined with overheating and restless bedmate. And busyhead.

Saturday went okay, I guess. I mingled and chatted and got tanked and swapped stories of recent times and old. After the main party I dropped my wife off at home (already tired), then headed out with a group that was reconnoitering afterwards at a local bar I never go to. It turned out to be packed wall-to-wall, so we headed to one down the street I occasionally go to but make fun of anyway. Us all being class of '94 folks, we were pleasantly surprised to find a bartender who'd been there for two days but was from the class of '95 of the same school. More chatting and stories and drinking, then back to the class president's townhouse (merely a half mile from here) for more of the same. Including a drinking version of the Swimming Duckies game. Guess right, you tell someone else to drink. Guess wrong, you drink, along with the color you pulled. Then some Asshole, as the Great Dalmuti deck wasn't found quickly enough. I told stories I shouldn't have, got too wrapped up in conversation to keep my wife in tow (as I've never been good at politely ending conversation) and ended up drinking at least 13 beers, an Irish Carbomb, and a shot of Irish Mist. That's just what I remember.

I also got some decent stories of old classmates, got some ego boosts from people who were expecting me to be working on my next million dollars by now, and from a couple people who were pleasantly surprised to find me not just in a relationship but married to a nice girl. Many old friends (who didn't make it to the later parties) brought pictures of children. Something like that carries innate responsibility in it. Something I don't have to cope with yet, though I can't say if it would've slowed me down. I partied till 6 am, then fell asleep on the floor in the living room amindst conversation for a 3 hour nap as we were all winding down. So about 9:15 we all clear out, offering hugs and salutations before saying our goodbyes.

It was a good time, but the raging hangover on Sunday really taught me why I do that so rarely. I know I disappointed my wife, being gone so long. The vertigo and nausea made me practically an invalid for most of the day. I think I pitched in to help for 10 minutes with the weeding I'd originally promised to do, but leaning over to toss the uprooted plants in the trashcan was enough to make my head spin.

Even today I was better, but still feeling it. I missed a killer party last night, with better friends who are still a part of my life. One of them was singing and I could've hung out with them, and been a part of another late night party, one that would have consisted of a lot less drinking (probably half as much) and an earlier departure time. Both leading to a more rested Dave today.

But I got to see Shrek 2. What an awesome movie. I loved it. My friends and I took up almost an entire row ... we wouldn't have been able to do it if we hadn't been there so early, but we'd intended to go to an earlier show that ended up sold out. Regardless, the movie's hysterical (especially Pinocchio!). Highly recommended.

And that brings me here, by way of dinner at Bill Bateman's. I ate quickly, before the stomach could state its discontent, so I tore through appetizers and picked at my main meal, though the chicken was a bit overdone. Crab pretzel and South Philly Eggrolls are definite winners, though.

But me. Why am I awake? Everything at the top, plus thoughts spinning around my head. I really like the work of Jhonen Vasquez for the most part. I enjoyed the questionable taste and simple-yet-complicated humor of Invader Zim and Fillerbunny and Squee, but I hadn't yet read Johnny the Homicidal Maniac. Browsed previously, but never really read. And now, while there was humor, it was also thought-provoking, in that making my cautiously eye the dark corners of my mind kind of way.

No, I'm not homicidal. *smirk* I just ... need to think some.

- Pookah

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