03 January 2010

That didn't exactly seem like a vacation.

Given the fact that I spent several days with my family, had to do some traveling in allegedly bad weather, spent an entire day stressing about the impending searing pain I was about to endure (and then spent the rest of the day actually in that pain), then stressing about meeting The Boy I Currently Like's Friends, then drinking with said friends and recovering from said drinking, well ... it doesn't really feel like I had a lot of downtime. Add to that the cold I began developing on New Year's Eve and I wonder where all those days went.

At the same time, I kind of welcome the return of routine. Christ. I'm such a damn creature of habit. It's kind of ridiculous. Then again, the routine needs to switch up. The Monday after January 1 brings the New Year's Resolutioners to the gym, which will make my gym life a nightmare for at least six weeks. Then again, it didn't seem as bad last year, which many of my gym acquaintances and I attributed to the economy. Things are still fairly shitty, so maybe it will be the same or even less bad this year. A girl can dream.

Enough about all that, though. I suppose some of you wanted to hear about New Year's Eve and the big meeting The Boy's friends thing. Thanks to the Interwebs, smart phones, coinciding plans and really excellent, welcome and well-intentioned internet stalking, I got to hang out with several of The Boy's friends Wednesday night before the party. That would include one of my favorite commentors ever, Jerious Norwood.

The whole thing was hilarious -- I was actually talking about them when I turned around and saw Fat Mike the Gangsta (yes, I'm breaking down and using The Cheating Asshole Ex-Boyfriend's nickname for him instead of coming up with one of my own. I suck. He can request a change, though). It was also a little overwhelming. Thankfully, I had a pretty delightful buzz by that time and proceeded to get drunker and stay out until bar close. There was even a bit of intermingling between his friends and KayGee and The Prison Librarian.

So, that was awesome. I heard from pretty much everyone about how much they love The Boy. Not surprising, because I know highly thinks of his friends. I also know how awesome he is. So, why would they not love him? In fact, the evening was so awesome that I woke up on New Year's Eve still drunk. After a nap and a lot of laying on the couch, I managed to feel a bit better. Enough so that I could go out and get drunk again.

Let me tell y'all, Fat Mike the Gangsta throws a lovely party. I didn't meet everyone the night before, but I was told I'd met the important people. Having gotten a lot of the meeting people out of the way ended up being as good for The Boy as it was for me. He didn't have to worry as much about not abandoning me and whatnot. He felt alright "leaving (me) to (my) own devices," while he caught up with old friends. That didn't stop him from checking in with me when we weren't actually together, often with a reassuring touch of my arm.

There were even door prizes. I got a Playboy from 1975. I was an asshole and kept it, even though we could swap. Probably not the best decision I ever made, but I'm not perfect. Sometimes, I'm an asshole.

Between the two nights, I met everyone from people whose names I'd seen on Facebook to people I'd been hearing about since before I knew their real names. The latter group would include The Boy I Currently Like's Better-Looking Friend. On Wednesday night at The Independent, he requested "The Boy I Currently Like's Smarter, Better-Looking Friend." I was all ready to oblige, because I did say I would let him come up with his own blog nickname (less work for me). However, The Boy objected to the "smarter" part of the name. He was totally fine with the "better-looking" part. It's nice that he's secure like that. And I won't disagree that The Boy's Better-Looking Friend is quite the hottie. Of course, now that I've actually spent a tiny bit of time with him, I'd call him Duckie Dale, Esq. But what's done is done.

To top off the night, we had an absolutely insane cab driver. Basically, from the time we got into the cab (it only took about 20 minutes after they told me when I called at 3:00 a.m. that it would be a 60 to 90 minute wait. Score!) to the minute he dropped us off (and then some, because he kept talking as we crossed the street), this guy ranted. He ranted about drunks, knuckleheads, pinheads, dickheads in plaid shorts, Canada, Mexico and God knows what else. The Boy ended up giving him $20 for an $8 cab ride simply for the entertainment factor. I was only going to give him a $10, so I guess he lucked out there.

So, after all of that, I feel like I should say something profound or whatever about finally meeting all of these friends of The Boy's. Especially because a lot of them are going to read this. I really don't know what they thought of me. I mean, I was really drunk Wednesday and I got pretty damn tuned on New Year's Eve. I hope I wasn't an asshole (save for about the Playboy) But they were all so fucking sweet and welcoming and I'm so very glad I had the chance to meet them (I wouldn't be lying if I said I hoped to have the chance to hang out with them more in the future). I love my own friends very much and I think The Boy's friends are pretty much equally as awesome as my own dear friends. It makes me really happy to know that The Boy has such great friends. You guys rule. I can only hope I lived up to whatever image they gathered from reading my ridiculousness here. Probably not, but they were all very awesome, regardless.

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