Musica della sera (o mattina)

Well, cherrysher has one of her plays going up before the semester is out, as some of you already know, so the two of us went out for a little celebratory dinner at Calvin's (mmm, General Tso's chicken. And plum wine. Ah, plum wine), after which we headed to the Spinning Wheel with the Irresistible Force for drinks. IF and I debated the finer points of moral relativism (a creed I may have to renounce in favor of slightly-less-hardcore moral flexibility, but anyway), a discussion which was horned in on by Francis Ann Cannon's grandson, who was making eyes at my female companions before trying to get us to sell him drugs. I mean, for fuck's sake, SLC isn't THAT-- oh, screw it. I can't even summon indignation in writing, but it was still crass; we didn't know the guy from Rengers.

Total drink tally for the evening (for myself): 1 LIT, one whiskey sour, one midori sour, one Bacardi & Coke. Writing it down, it sounds like a lot, but it wasn't really; only the LIT was at all strong, and I was only mildly trashed on the walk back. It's weird; when I get drunk, even if it's only on Mike's or something, I'll be really loose and silly for about half an hour to forty minutes, and then it'll mostly go away until I have about five or so more shots. Once my body adjusts to the poison, it keeps the effects down in the background... sometimes nice, sometimes frustrating.

Good thing there wasn't any practice today.

Oh, and my Peace Corps app got done with four hours to spare. This time next year, I'll probably be in Lithuania.

Musica della sera (o mattina)

Well, cherrysher has one of her plays going up before the semester is out, as some of you already know, so the two of us went out for a little celebratory dinner at Calvin's (mmm, General Tso's chicken. And plum wine. Ah, plum wine), after which we headed to the Spinning Wheel with the Irresistible Force for drinks. IF and I debated the finer points of moral relativism (a creed I may have to renounce in favor of slightly-less-hardcore moral flexibility, but anyway), a discussion which was horned in on by Francis Ann Cannon's grandson, who was making eyes at my female companions before trying to get us to sell him drugs. I mean, for fuck's sake, SLC isn't THAT-- oh, screw it. I can't even summon indignation in writing, but it was still crass; we didn't know the guy from Rengers.

Total drink tally for the evening (for myself): 1 LIT, one whiskey sour, one midori sour, one Bacardi & Coke. Writing it down, it sounds like a lot, but it wasn't really; only the LIT was at all strong, and I was only mildly trashed on the walk back. It's weird; when I get drunk, even if it's only on Mike's or something, I'll be really loose and silly for about half an hour to forty minutes, and then it'll mostly go away until I have about five or so more shots. Once my body adjusts to the poison, it keeps the effects down in the background... sometimes nice, sometimes frustrating.

Good thing there wasn't any practice today.

Oh, and my Peace Corps app got done with four hours to spare. This time next year, I'll probably be in Lithuania.