Last night was FANTASTIC. JH the Texan was visiting LA after taking a year off from school (he's really coming back this year! yay!), and in celebration, BQ the insane rock guy, AS the bitter alcoholic, JB the slightly effeminate non-drinker, and your very own Lizlet (the slightly square chica with the baggy jeans) went to a bar. And there was drinking. And then JB drove us to AS's apartment. And there was drinking. And then JB drove us back to the bar. And there was drinking. And then JB drove us to a diner. And there was eating. And that was a good thing.
Waking up this morning, however, was NOT a good thing, since there weren't a whole lot of hours in between bedtime and the alarm going off. In the end, it took me about an hour to:
-get myself out of bed -get into the shower -get out of the shower -put on clothes -take two gajillion Advil -make attempts to dry hair -gather up pita bread, crackers and hummus (in case I ever felt like eating ever again) -leave the apartment
And here I am, working at a self-storage place at Santa Monica (I still really, REALLY can't believe that), and only recently have the cobwebs left my brain.
There are reasons why I don't really drink that much. *g*
I have to say, though, that this is WORTH IT, because last night was a lot of fun. Hanging out with boys is great - it's a lot easier to get completely crazy. Some of the night is a bit hazy, but there are few experiences to compare to JB wrapping his legs around AS. Driving down Sunset with the guys screaming for attractive women to come join them at the bar. Me trying to watch The Wall and failing miserably. AS trying to pick up girls by agreeing with them in a loud drunken voice. And me beating JB's very sober ass at air hockey. Watching JH play Pac-Man.
It is very quiet today in self-storage-ville, and I just finished the book I was reading about competitive Scrabble players (Word Freak by Stefan Fatsis, if you're interested). It's interesting, to become enveloped in someone else's obsession. Makes mine seem less, well, weird.
I watched Farscape on Friday, for the first time in my own apartment. A strange experience. But it was GOOD, and there was PAIN, and I really, REALLY hope that they make it all make sense.
Farscape (my poor abused brain managed to ponder on the drive to work this morning) is an interesting show because while the majority of the plot is external to the characters and the situations (survival being the emphasis, as a rule, rather than some great mythic quest), all the interesting conflict really happens on a character basis. It's great to watch the show and realize that the writers understand this - probably a helluva lot better than I do, especially today - and they make sure to keep mixing it all up. There's a lot in this show about secrets, and trust. And Kemper and the writers keep ripping everyone apart, giving them a chance to come back together - but not for too long, because what's so interesting about that?
That's what they teach you in screenwriting school, first off. Conflict is interesting. Conflict is comedy, drama, romance, adventure... Conflict in every scene is a good thing.
Man, it's fun to talk about Farscape. I actually feel like starting my almost-forgotten Buffy rant! But I have to start closing this place up now, so that I can go home. And lay down.
Laying down. Ah, yes. On Friday, I discovered that the number of "I so don't want to be here, I really want to die" thoughts dramatically decreased from the all-time high of Thursday. I'm getting more used to this crazy job. I'm getting more used to this crazy employment thing.
Of course, the suicidal thoughts hit a pretty big spike this morning. But the worst is behind me now. *g*