Monday, November 13, 2006
Probably two months ago I went to go see a show with some friends in NH. All of us were friends with one of the guys in the band, so afterwards we all hung out on the tour bus talking and drinking wine. We were only able to hang out for an hour and a half or so before the band had to take off for their next show Somewhere Else. However, we were able, or at least I was....I wasn't driving, to take in quite a few drinks in that hour and a half. It's strange how atmosphere denotes how much I am willing and can drink.
When I am at a show, I can go either way; I can be having a great time and listening to music and not notice that I just put down 5 vodka sodas, or I can be hanging out and not realize that I have been nursing the same drink for two and a half hours.
This was a night of not noticing as many beverages went down the gullet, so when we got back in the car I was feeling a little warm and giggly. On the way up we listened to Ace of Base, but on the way home we listened to 'The Eraser' and it completely put me in this thoughtful trance. Not a sleepy trance, but one in which I was totally wired and couldn't turn my brain off, I was really excited to get home and write something. I could feel it buzzing.
I walk into my house at about 1am, it seems like no one is home but it also seems like one of my roommates may be sleeping, so I quietly go into my room, turn on the lights, put my bag down, and decide I want to have one of our community cigarettes to try and calm down. I put my jacket back on, it was chilly but not too bad, and go out on the back porch consciously deciding to not bring my keys because my kitchen door does not lock unless done from the inside, and my door to the porch will get propped open. I open the kitchen back door, I open the back door to the porch, prop open porch door and shut the kitchen door behind me at which point I hear a "click".
"Wha?" I ask myself. I try the handle, it is indeed locked.
Fuck.
Well, there is nothing I can for the time being so I smoke my Export-A and think about this. One of my roommates may be home, I can try buzzing the door and see what happens, sure it's after 1am but....maybe.
I got to the front door. I buzz several times. I wait. Nothing.
Fuck.
I try every window, I knock on her window, I try picking my lock, there's good news....you can't break into my apartment! At this point it's about 1:40am, I'm tired now, my bed is taunting me because the lights are on in my bedroom, I can see it's outline through my curtains, I have no money in my pocket, no phone to call anyone, it's getting colder and I need to sleep, sometimes my roommate comes home in the morning. So, I go into the back area in between the kitchen door and back porch door and cuddle up, leaning my head against my barrier and try to sleep. It's not very comfortable, and there's an emergency light in the hallway. That's when I look down the stairs to the basement and think 'wow, it's a lot darker down there. Oh, yeah, and I just moved in so there are all those cardboard boxes I could lay out and sleep on! Yes!' So, I do. I go down the steps, throw some cardboard boxes on the floor, wrap my jacket around me and think 'I'm never going to forget this one.' Surprisingly, I fall immediately asleep, probably the combination of alcohol and tiredness.
Time passes, not sure how long, and in my sleep I think I hear someone that sounds like my roommate say something about a Gin and Tonic. I wake up and realize, no, that's actually my roommate. I run up the stairs where I hear a bunch of people laughing and knock on the door, they all fall immediately silent. I say '(Insert roommates name here), it's me Sarah.' She opens the door, "Wha?" spurts out of her mouth. I give her a rundown of the story as I fumble out of my clothes and into bedroom attire, everyone is in disbelief. 'You were sleeping in a cardboard box', 'well, ON one really. God, I've never been so happy to see you. Thank god you were out drinking on a Thursday night.' They keep questioning me, asking if I'm ok, assuming I have just gone through trauma by sleeping with cardboard. I go to bed. Warm. Soft. MMmmmmmm.
The next day I wake up and proceed to tell everyone that I meet about my night. Why I want to advertise this, I have no idea? The story seemed pretty ridiculous and embarrassing, and often time those are the best stories. If you can't laugh at yourself, then by god what can you laugh at?
Last night I was practicing with Meredith, she hadn't heard the story, she thought it would be a good blog.
What the fuck, I already told everyone else?
When I am at a show, I can go either way; I can be having a great time and listening to music and not notice that I just put down 5 vodka sodas, or I can be hanging out and not realize that I have been nursing the same drink for two and a half hours.
This was a night of not noticing as many beverages went down the gullet, so when we got back in the car I was feeling a little warm and giggly. On the way up we listened to Ace of Base, but on the way home we listened to 'The Eraser' and it completely put me in this thoughtful trance. Not a sleepy trance, but one in which I was totally wired and couldn't turn my brain off, I was really excited to get home and write something. I could feel it buzzing.
I walk into my house at about 1am, it seems like no one is home but it also seems like one of my roommates may be sleeping, so I quietly go into my room, turn on the lights, put my bag down, and decide I want to have one of our community cigarettes to try and calm down. I put my jacket back on, it was chilly but not too bad, and go out on the back porch consciously deciding to not bring my keys because my kitchen door does not lock unless done from the inside, and my door to the porch will get propped open. I open the kitchen back door, I open the back door to the porch, prop open porch door and shut the kitchen door behind me at which point I hear a "click".
"Wha?" I ask myself. I try the handle, it is indeed locked.
Fuck.
Well, there is nothing I can for the time being so I smoke my Export-A and think about this. One of my roommates may be home, I can try buzzing the door and see what happens, sure it's after 1am but....maybe.
I got to the front door. I buzz several times. I wait. Nothing.
Fuck.
I try every window, I knock on her window, I try picking my lock, there's good news....you can't break into my apartment! At this point it's about 1:40am, I'm tired now, my bed is taunting me because the lights are on in my bedroom, I can see it's outline through my curtains, I have no money in my pocket, no phone to call anyone, it's getting colder and I need to sleep, sometimes my roommate comes home in the morning. So, I go into the back area in between the kitchen door and back porch door and cuddle up, leaning my head against my barrier and try to sleep. It's not very comfortable, and there's an emergency light in the hallway. That's when I look down the stairs to the basement and think 'wow, it's a lot darker down there. Oh, yeah, and I just moved in so there are all those cardboard boxes I could lay out and sleep on! Yes!' So, I do. I go down the steps, throw some cardboard boxes on the floor, wrap my jacket around me and think 'I'm never going to forget this one.' Surprisingly, I fall immediately asleep, probably the combination of alcohol and tiredness.
Time passes, not sure how long, and in my sleep I think I hear someone that sounds like my roommate say something about a Gin and Tonic. I wake up and realize, no, that's actually my roommate. I run up the stairs where I hear a bunch of people laughing and knock on the door, they all fall immediately silent. I say '(Insert roommates name here), it's me Sarah.' She opens the door, "Wha?" spurts out of her mouth. I give her a rundown of the story as I fumble out of my clothes and into bedroom attire, everyone is in disbelief. 'You were sleeping in a cardboard box', 'well, ON one really. God, I've never been so happy to see you. Thank god you were out drinking on a Thursday night.' They keep questioning me, asking if I'm ok, assuming I have just gone through trauma by sleeping with cardboard. I go to bed. Warm. Soft. MMmmmmmm.
The next day I wake up and proceed to tell everyone that I meet about my night. Why I want to advertise this, I have no idea? The story seemed pretty ridiculous and embarrassing, and often time those are the best stories. If you can't laugh at yourself, then by god what can you laugh at?
Last night I was practicing with Meredith, she hadn't heard the story, she thought it would be a good blog.
What the fuck, I already told everyone else?
posted by Sarah RabDAU at
7:43 AM
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