they say you don't know what you got 'til it's gone / / they say that your darkest hour comes before your dawn

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Painted the town red

I’m running off 5 hours of sleep, my legs and arms ache, and my head pounds every now and again. It’s one of those days where I drink endless cups of tea and listen to nothing but Angus & Julia Stone. Every day is one of those days. The girl and boy duo above is Grace and Alex [most of the time we call him Upto] at Paul’s 21st last night. Grace played her first, and what I assume will be her only, game of Kings. Half way through the game, she quit, which is a big no-no but we allowed it since she kept passing out on Alex. Eventually the table became her pillow, and Alex’s knees and the floor became the destination for her vomit. The kid in the background is my brother. Putting us side by side will not increase your ability to see a resemblance; we don’t look alike. I also had my first “public” cigarette, and everyone just laughed at how my New Year’s Resolution was that “I’ll probably start smoking.”

I drove Ryan and myself into town to meet Kelly at Black Market. I fucking hate that place; the vodka is cheap and nasty, the mixers are always warm, entry is a fucking riot price [$15 ordinarily, $12 if you use someone’s door list - $2 does not make shit difference], the people are judgemental as fuck, the “air conditioning” is a giant fan that just blows around smelly hot air, the toilets are a bio-hazard, and most importantly - there’s no fucking beer garden. If you leave to go outside for a cigarette, you have to drink whatever you have in your hand(s), exit out the front door and then LINE THE FUCK BACK UP SO YOU CAN GET BACK IN EVEN THOUGH YOU’VE ALREADY PAID AND HAVE YOUR WRIST STAMP. The only good thing about the service I experienced last night was that coat hire was free, for the first time ever. Looks like I saved another $2, which wouldn’t buy me jackshit in there anyway. Dear Coat Hire Girl, thank you. I hope they keep you.

I found Belinda amongst the sea of black out of date scene/emo kids who were trying to pull of some sort of punk prep/high school/rockabilly/pin up/whatever is considered fashionable these days look. My friend, Lily, found Kelly, Ryan, Belinda and myself, and then took photos since she’s one of the resident photographers. That’s another bonus to an otherwise waste of space venue. Kelly, Belinda, Ryan and I proceeded to dance our fucking asses off so much so that we were covered in sweat in no time. With no air conditioning, it’s no wonder we started to melt. Kelly disappeared for a while, Belinda was heavily intoxicated, and Ryan was sucking face with some girl. Me ? I spent the night throwing my fists in the air, stomping my boots to the floor and screaming along to music so loud I couldn’t actually hear myself. Ryan had paid for parking, which expired at 2am. We hadn’t noticed the time until 2:20am, which should have resulted in a parking fine but didn’t for whatever reason.

Ryan and I left the city around 3:15am, drove to Brad’s house to hang out with whoever was still standing, found Michael pretty out of it, left them all there, got home around 4:15am, went to bed at 4:30am but didn’t get to sleep until 5am due to the non-stop ringing in my ears. That ringing you hear after being exposed to loud noise is sometimes called Tintinnabulation. Every time I experience it, I always think back to my favourite English teacher in high school, because it was one of her favourite words, and so it’s become one of mine.

I had the best sober time of my life last night, and I didn’t even feel upset about not being able to drink.

No comments:

Post a Comment