Not Quite Live Blogging The Happy Hour

There’s nothing like waking up five hours or so after you’ve passed out drunk and feeling “Wow, so this is what sober is like. I’d forgotten.” Actually, I was just surprised how it felt to not feel like I was walking on a clipper ship in the middle of a storm.

Anywaaaay …

Last night was the July Baltimore Blogger’s Happy Hour. I caught a ride with him and his wife. We left … I dunno … 5:40ish and got down to Nick’s like … 6:30? Traffic in downtown Baltimore sucked super ass. At one point a city bus next to us decided to blow its foghorn and essentially destroyed my hearing for the night. Later, preparing to turn onto 395, Neckbone leaned back in his seat as I gave him directions and bellowed, “We’ve gotta get on ninety-five? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why didn’t we just take ninety-five all the way down?”

Well, duh, you printed out the directions! I’m just telling you where to go, silly …

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Anyway, we got down there in one piece, and walked into Nick’s wondering, “Are they inside or outside?”

Of course they were all outside on picnic tables. This is a decision we generally regretted later as it was hot and, um, spiders. Big spiders. There was one on my shoulder. This guy pointed that out to me and I shrieked like a girl and flicked it off in the general direction of other people who gave me dirty looks. Whatevah, I don’t pretend to like spiders.

Anyway, walking over to the group several hours earlier I quickly settled at a spot next to this dude who was engaged in chit-chat with a woman named Sally who is this guy’s wife and a frequent commenter on my blog (Common Wombat himself was home geeking out with a friend watching BSG). Hooray! Anyway, between the three of us there was much discussion of blogging, the horrors of Cockeysville, the lovely Cockeysville Target, felines, Battlestar Galactica, and my apparent outing of Anonymous Coworker in which I named him — by real name! — in a blog entry. (Upon returning home, I did a search for ACW’s real name in my search feature and found no actual outing, although perhaps it was made in comments).

(I almost accidently outed ACW here in my drunk post but I was somehow able to keep a clear enough mind and reason, “Waaaaaait, I can’t … I can’t use his real name here because then I’ll be outing him.”)

In any case, there was a decent turnout at the Happy Hour. I was excited to meet the afore-mentioned Sally for the first time as we had exchanged rather lengthy e-mails a few weeks prior on the subject of … well, felines, and fleas, and Cockeysville and other things which I don’t remember. Also present at the Happy Hour was eXtraheavyMarcellus who I always thought would be a lot scarier in real life. Seadragon, who was all, “I’m coming to drink, I’m coming to drink!” apparently got sick and cancelled. More beer for the rest of us.

(Speaking of that, as Neckbone had told me he was going to pick up my tab as a thank you for caring for his dog while they were away, I made progress through what he later told me was eight Woodchuck ciders. My goal had been ten.)

My memory gets fuzzy at this point, but I stole many cigarettes from Messy Hair Girl which is odd because I don’t smoke. Also present were the broads who planned the thing: Zenchick and Broadsheet, both of whom recieved many hugs.

I promised to buy the new Revenge of the Sith Darth Vader action figure for Jason, and Fool and I talked about something but alcohol has clouded my memory. I think she may have discussed her desire to shoot her boss, but don’t quote me on that. JWER was there, too. Epiphany and I had a long discussion about … something … but … hey, I can’t remember.

The biggest surprise was that this dude showed up without becoming to lost and going home to cry again and play with his pet wolf spider. There’s a photo of him on here somewhere, but you’ll have to look for it. He also brought his wife whose birthday is ten days after mine so we were all like, “Leos, yeah!” and he was like, “sniff”.

Anyway, group photo, faces blacked out because I don’t know off hand who does or does not want their faces posted …

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Got a ride home with the same folks who gave me one down, and stumbling into my chilly apartment (I’d left the a/c on) I pretty much collapsed right on the floor and grabbed Guy into my arms. Tippy was smart enough to run when she heard me coming – Guy, on the other hand, I wound up clutching in my arms as I napped for about fifteen minutes. He was none too pleased about that.

Apparently I did some drunk blogging that I very vaguely remember. I’m impressed I was able to upload a photo, much less import it from the memory card and resize it. Apparently I didn’t adjust for the angle. Ooops.

So that’s it for me. I’m going back to bed, and if you were at the happy hour and I forgot you, e-mail me and I’ll put you on this post, and I apologize now for forgetting you! You’re very unforgettable and awesome.

0 thoughts on “Not Quite Live Blogging The Happy Hour

  1. I don’t know what’s funnier: the fact that you posted a sober recap, or all of the incredibly drunken and mistyped posts you made before sobering up.

    Good to see you, though.

  2. I think I said something last night about, “Cider doesn’t fuck me up as much as Bass.” Because dear god, if I’d had eight bottles of Bass, I really would have booted all over Neckbone’s Jeep. Probably would’ve had a taxi driver from Iceland yelling, “Yeah, serves ya’ right!” and cheering me on, though. :)

  3. I showed up but I didn’t read the notice that hard and didn’t remember whether you were at the market nicks or at the bridge nicks so I wasn’t sure I was in the right place.

    I arrived at bridge nicks and all I saw was a bunch of yuppie punks and I didn’t feel like going from table to table trying to find out which ones were the bloggers and which ones were just there to look cool while they practiced junior alcoholism.

    So I went home and watched last night’s recorded videos from the Travel Channel.

  4. I like how the picture is taken with SnayVision(TM) all out of focus, almost as if viewed through the bottom of a cider bottle.

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