We'll make a club! *clap clap clap*

This weekend has been crazy. Allow me to elaborate.

I worked from 4:00 until 9:00 Friday night, then came home to shower, finish packing, and get back to work at 10:00 so I could get paid. I had to sit around and wait for my bosses to finish locking the place up, and finally left the restaurant at midnight. I went with my bosses to their house, which I'd never been to before. My man boss decided he wanted to catch some sleep, so his wife and I sat down in the living room. I'd decided that I was going to get a little rest before our trip, too, but Elisabeth suggested we watch Seabiscuit on HBO instead. I've been making fun of Seabiscuit ever since it came out, but I agreed just to be nice. The movie ended up not being bad, and by the time it was over Jerry was awake, showered, and ready to hit the road.

We left his house around 2:45 in the morning. Armed with nothing but coffee and Mountain Dew to keep himself awake, Jerry was able to drive until 6:00 before he pulled over and asked me to drive. I had been awake the entire time, somehow, and was getting very tired myself. I started driving and Jerry passed out immediately. I got us all the way to Baltimore, and was at fiestada's house shortly before 8:00.

My dad, stepmother, and dad's friend showed up about a half hour later with the moving truck, since fiestada was moving that day. I took my stepmother's car and went home to do lots of laundry. I ended up falling asleep for about an hour and a half when I was home, which ended up being the only sleep I'd see in quite a while. I finished up things at home just in time for my parents to get home. I helped them unload the remaining stuff from the truck, then we returned the truck. By that time the wedding Jerry went to was over, so my parents dropped me off with him, and we hit the road back to New York at 5:30.

As soon as my parents left, he turns to me and asks, "wanna have some champagne cocktails on the road!?" Um, okay. I ran into an Exxon store, bought ice and orange juice, and made us some tasty drinks in the car. He drove the entire way home, and we didn't make it back to New York until 11:00.

We pulled up to the restaurant, where my car was parked, and found a note in the restaurant from his wife and most of the wait staff: "We're downtown, come find us!"

So what did we do?

Downed a beer each and walked downtown.

First of all, I'd like to say I fucking love my coworkers. We eventually ended up back at the Black Oak, the bar they all took me to on my birthday. I hadn't been there since, and if you know anything about my birthday, you know I got fucking wasted out of my mind. I ended up doing a few shots of Blackhouse with Lyndsay, which is exactly how my birthday began six months ago. I finally tracked down several of my friends from school, including one of my roommates, and dragged them to the bar as well. I had a few beers there, then the entire crowd migrated to another bar, the OST. Elisabeth had been buying rounds for everyone all night, which I felt awful for accepting, because I knew she'd already spent well over $100. Before long it was last call, and I had a jagerbomb shoved into my hand. I looked up and saw every one of my coworkers holding one as well. Apparently Elisabeth had decided all of us needed to end the evening on a note of togetherness, so jagerbombs it was!

We all stumbled back to the restaurant, I packed up my car, and Kat and I finally got home around 3:00. Keep in mind that I had been awake since 9:00 Friday morning, with the exception of my brief nap at home, and it was now 3:00 Sunday morning, and I was drunk.

This is why I didn't get out of bed until 1:30 this afternoon. I cleaned up the house a bit before heading to the reunion of all the folks who went on the Prague trip this past January. I was there for a little over two hours, enjoying the Czech food and looking at everyone's pictures.

When I got home, Kat dragged me downstairs to look at what she did to the washing machine. See, we have a washer and dryer in our basement, but our school still charges us to use them. The washer in particular requires $1 in quarters to operate, and this pisses us off to no end. When we moved in, we decided we wanted to somehow break into the coin tray so we could just have the coins fall back out when we put them in, effectively never having to pay to wash our clothes. There are two keyed doors on the washer, and we weren't sure which one was for the coin drawer. One of them is solid and is never, ever opening without the key, and the other looked like it could probably be pried open. She had gone for the latter with the back of a hammer, bending the metal a bit but getting nowhere. I started hacking away at the locking mechanism with a screwdriver, but wasn't having any success. Finally I used the hammer myself to pry the door open, and eventually snapped a bolt in half (due to my brute strength, of course). The door then flew open, and we started shouting out of joy. We peeked into the compartment, and.... ugh. All I had broken into was a compartment with wires. Dammit. Two of the wires were connected to a sensor that detected whether this door was open or not. When the door was shut, the washer display says "$1.00" and when the door was open, the display said "d9". We poked around in the compartment for at least 10 minutes, eventually admitting defeat. She happened to tap one of the buttons on the front of the machines (for wash settings, etc) and noticed the display changing. I laughed and said it would be funny if she was somehow reprogramming it. When I put the door back on, the display had changed to "$1.50". Um, no! We had no idea what sequence of random button-pushing had caused this, but we were then determined to keep trying. After five more minutes, all we'd succeeded in doing was getting the price up to $7.50. Jesus, this was going nowhere.

However! Before long, we got it down to $0. So, after a half hour of battling with the washer, we succeeded in getting it to operate for free. Because we're fucking awesome like that. And I'm now proud of ourselves.

I fully realize that that entire story is likely eligible for the "lamest story ever" award, but I am still beaming with pride, so I don't care. It's the little things, god dammit!

During my daytrip yesterday, my boss questioned me about my sexual history thus far. I told him everything, from Jay to J. The entire J situation seemed to interest him, so I told him the entire story, beginning to end. His feelings on the matter? That J is a complete and total dickhead, in complete denial of something/everything. Thank you, sir, please drive through.

On a related note, I remain the worst slutty wannabe ever.

Oh, and I have chlamydia.

Heh, no I don't.

Do you?

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