16 December 2010 at 3:54 pm
"How was the Christmas party?" asked Kristie, after I spent a three hour hike bitching about it and the boy who was taking me.
"It was great!" I said. "I got trashed, threw up and started my period."
Fortunately, not at the party itself, which was fun as far as corporate holiday events go. There was a camel and a hookah bar and a fortune teller who told me I would have three kids and that the communication problems I was having were the boyfriend's fault (she told the same thing to the boyfriend, which leads me to believe she had been saying that all night to the appropriate genders because she had been recently jilted).
I had a conversation with a pilot who flies private planes for $2500 an hour.
I ate a scoop of cous cous and a bite of flambeed banana.
I had a Talk with the boyfriend about his cheap ways, and to never tell me to get on a scale ever again.
mod l post-mod
Hi. Morgan, 27, of Santa Barbara, CA. I am a hypocritical admirer of rhetoric (when it is my own) and an observer of literary trends. A secret: I don't take anything very seriously, and that includes myself.