A Warm Welcome from Jose @ Thursday, May. 06, 2004

I got mixed up yesterday as I was ordering office supplies and so my Staples delivery today included 120 highlighters rather than the dozen that I thought I had ordered.

Oops.

So I drank tequila last night. Two shots and three 'ritas. I remember the entire evening and didn't try to take anything apart so I guess Jose and I are friends again.

Several years ago I went to Vegas for a seminar with a couple of guys I worked with. A harmless margarita at some Mexican place turned into mutiple tequila shots at some popular strip joint. I remember having a pretty good conversation with a stripper in the ladies room and spending quite a bit of time chatting with some guy who wanted to bring his girlfriend and needed advice. (!?)

Anyway, after nearly loosing my non-existant dinner outside of the Flamingo Hilton, I went to bed and woke up at about three, crying, absolutely sobbing, with the lamp on the bed, propped up between my legs. I had managed to get the shade off and was trying to unscrew the lightbulb - which was on and blazing hot. I don't know why I was crying (or why I was trying to take the damned thing apart for that matter) maybe I was frustrated because I couldn't take it apart. Or maybe I was in pain from the hot bulb which seems more likely. I don't know. I woke up all disoriented the next morning and forgot about the time change...I spent a miserable three hours, still drunk, trying to sleep at the airport while I waited for my plane. And fielding angry calls from my boyfriend who didn't appreciate the drunk voice mails I'd left for him the night before. Yeah, I cried on the voice mails, too, and he was upset that he couldn't do anything about it seeing as how I was all the way across the country. I didn't remember leaving them at all.

Another time, after a few too many shots of tequila downtown, I woke up in the middle of the night, sobbing again, trying to take apart my alarm clock which is pretty much one solid piece of plastic...I even had several cuts on my hands and arms. Horrible. Needless to say, I stopped drinking tequila - except for the occassional solo 'rita with dinner - after that.

But last night, after Jamie suggested a shot and got no takers I thought, "It's been five or six years...why not?"

One became two and could have easily become three or four but I didn't want to push it. But there were no repercussions. Fabulous.

Not that I want to make a habit of it or anything.