actions...have...consequences?!

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

That was a dirty, dirty weekend. Let's start out with the good - Broken Social Scene on Thursday. I was absolutely blown a-freaking-way. It was a gorgeous, generous and wildly energetic performance. They played all their best songs from You Forgot it in People, which probably their best album (though I do love the self-titled track as well). My friend Kurt showed up that night and it was a wonderful night for celebrational boozing - truly icing on the cake to my Austinversary.

I took Jared and Kurt to Waxploitation's Halloween bash on Friday, where I threw on a leisure suit and ridiculous Hawaiian-ish shirt and told everyone I was their real dad. It was a cool affair to be sure, but I wasn't quite feeling it so we ended up taking off fairly early.

Saturday was the Halloween bash and it was a fucking DOOZY. CRAZY amounts of people ended showing up, to the point that the kegs were floated one shortly after the other. WHadda surprise, what a lovely-ass surprise! I went as Donnie Darko, but nobody really got it at first glance, rather tragically. Alas, it was not the worst of the Halloween tragedies. Not by a LONGSHOT. At the end of the night...Let's just say I ran facefirst into something that kept me up all night and all the next day. Oof. One year later, it's still as brutal as ever. I'm ready to go back to being over that shit, since the way I ran my body into the fucking ground ended up making me a little sick. But I didn't regret it - it was a fun night, I managed to not spill all my fucking tragedies onto unwilling ears, etc.

Kurt took off the next day and I've been doing the packing/moving dance ever since.

Then, Halloween. I won tickets to the White Ghost Shivers Ball, which was a ways outside of town at a club called 'The Oaks.' Everything was going swimmingly - the crowd was cool, everyone's costume was pretty fucking amazing (the best one was a bloodstained Bride from QT's Kill Bill) and the WGS set was off the fucking hook. I had received a call telling me to bring a bottle of booze, as the band was getting gypped on the free booze front - they rented the place out, but got no preferential treatment for bringing in a crowd like they did. Tacky, I say! So I brought a bottle of whiskey.

And who knows what happened to it? Not me. It was just innocent flask hits and the occaisonal beer until the end of the night - when myself and a pack of ghoulish drunks proceeded to hit up some Jim Beam and nasty cherry whiskey straight from the bottle. Until I blacked out. I can only theorize, given the immensity of my disability the following day, that I kept on fucking drinking. Apparently, though, I did make out with the foxiest new she-blogger in Austin, it would seem. Anyway, it seems that I got complete incoherent, crashed at my friends' Jason and Mary's house and woke up not believing that I had actually crashed or blacked out. I also took Mary's computer with the absolute certainty it was somehow mine. I was obviously still fucked up, but somehow lived to see another day. I don't think I've ever been hung over like that - at least not in recent history. But I might have to break up with whiskey forever. I'll miss you, baby!

I ended up having to call in to work and probably costing future-me lots of money. Which sucks. But I felt wretched enough to need to sleep the entire day away. Honestly, I kind of freaked myself out by the wildness of my behavior (remembered and un-remembered) and really feel like I need to slow the fuck down. I just started reading the His Dark Material series, so hopefully I can use that as an excuse to lie low and fucking behave myself. In other news, I will use this new 'down time' (wuzzat?) to paint my new room red, to unpack and to set sail on an exciting new diet, composed only of chicken and yams. Yay? I hate the thought of all this pesky sobriety, but I'm sure it won't stick.

PS my new roomies rule, no matter what psycho-departing roommate said to me last night - I have to believe she was the crazy one, and not my new companions! I've got a good feeling about them and my instincts it not be to trifled with. Word.