29- you'd think I'd know better ...livin' like a kid

It's 1:26 in the afternoon on the first full day of the last year of my twenties. I'm fighting the residuals of the celebration last night. Wondering if I should just hit the bottle now and call the day a wash but sure it seems like I might want to spend at least a couple hours battling the books before I fall into the bourbon and watch Christmas specials.

How I spent my birthday-an essay

Thursday night T gave me and S $40 to go party. They wanted me to be able to get wasted and take a cab home but we were uptown and I didn't want to have most of my birthday money spent on cab fare so I just didn't get too drunk. Plus I had to go to the all night grocery store to buy wings for Friday. I had a dozen oysters and fried pickles and drank pale ale the bartender sent a birthday shot--all I know is it was bright red.
Friday morning after having stated that I wouldn't be in to work I waited for my cousin and her SO to arrive, which they did near the noon hour. We went downtown and had pizza and coffee and I showed the the sight. Playing tour guide is fun. We walked in the cold through the city, I showed them the honky tonks and the Ryman, they don't like country music and didn't rush to the alley just to imagine Johnny Cash stumbling, wrecked on booze and high on pills from the stage door towards the backdoor of Tootsie's or to Ernest's Tubbs to pretend Loretta Lynn was still singing on the Midnight Jamboree...We had coffee and a trendy cafe after pizza for lunch and then we party ways. They were in to see a concert that would've been fun but I had an appearance to make in Kentucky. Being the fool that I am I thought it would only be an appearance. Eat and out baby...I was thinking it'd be eat and out.
Only took me two turns around to find the house, the directions were fine, I'm just not the best at taking them. My arrival was well timed. I sat my food on the table, took to the cider and the mingling. Then came the Scotch and beer. Next thing I'm plinking melodies out on the piano with all skill of a person that can't play. Luckily there is no video of my pitiful attempt at playing Heart and Soul---who the hell can't play Heart and Soul? Me. That's who. And around then my appearance became the last to leave...well cept for them what would become my hosts for the rest of the evening.
There I was just feeling I shouldn't drive to Nashville...not incoherent and not launching into My Wild Irish Rose but not in a state to drive to Nashville. And there in Nashville were two guests from out of town expecting to find me at my apartment. But, the responsible thing was to sober up...sobering up that would happen eventually...like the next morning...when the scotch had been cleaned up and the bourbon was barely enough to flavor a coffee. Being a responsible adult-but an awful host-I called my guests and gave them clear instructions as to the location of the key and the sheets and that I felt terrible but I didn't think I would be benefitted by making the 70 mile drive home. Their response? Okay, we'll be fine. They're really cool people-how nice to have cool family...they weren't pissed (something I feared-tho in a way isn't it just kind of nice to be given run of a house...cept my house comes with a dog) C said today "It's not like you were all incoherent and you drunk dialed me slurring and a mess..." I try to refrain from drunk dialing people, even those that stay at my house.
The evening wore on in BG watching videos on the computer and eating meat sticks (something doesn't sound good at all when yr sober-now that I think about it--meat sticks? ew.)--if that's not a way to wind down a prolonged birthday party I don't know what is...sitting around a table raising glasses and telling stories until we all simultaneously lost our will to be awake and I was directed to a guest room where I suppose I must've slept because the sun was coming through the window and I felt the way a person would feel after a night of eating too much pot luck supper and being in a state that would allow for thinking too hard about R Kelly.
So that's my birthday celebration. It was good times...weird times because folklorist get togethers lead to drunk folklorists which lead to everyone looking at each other with just a little too much insight the next time paths cross.
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Usually I refrain from this sort of thing but it's appropriate here

{Obligatory relevant song lyric behind the cut}
Twenty-Nine by the Gin Blossoms


Author's's note: I've been trying to post this for over 24 hours. Stupid Blogger.