mercredi 2 mars 2005

It's just that I can't remember.

You know what. I was going to write this entire big recap of the party, but then when looking at pictures, I realised that I didn't even remember taking half of them, which led me to realise that I was a far sight drunker than I thought I was. So all efforts of describing how great the party was would be futile. Obviously it was great. There was drinking. There was dancing. There was laughter and hilarity and drunken drama and good times. And I really need to get my hearing checked, because I hate finding out the name of the guy I was dancing (read: really damn close to leaving the club with) with the next day from my friends. And really, that's why I've recently stayed away from many one-night stands when ordinarily I'd have indulged - because for the life of me, I can't remember the guy's name at the moment, and my one rule with one-night stands is at the very least, I know the first name of the guy with whom I'm thinking of going home*.

And so I leave you with my favourite two quotes (not necessarily said by me, although they might have been) from the night, which should provide a taste of the hijinks that happened:

"Don't worry, I kissed him so your kiss doesn't count, and your numbers won't go up."

"I was so drunk that my hair is dehydrated today."


*I lied, I have two rules. One is that I know his name. Two is that he is connected to me by no more than two degrees of separation, because I'm not going to go home with just any stranger, unless he's Brad Pitt or Jude Law, of course, in which case I read about them in the gossip rags so much it's like we're friends.