24 times drunker

"It looks like you got your ass kicked. Rough night?" The COO of our company said to me on the elevator yesterday.

"Rough week," I replied.

"Have you been drinking all this week?"

"Everyday. It hurts."

"At least you're young enough so that it's not as painful."

Oh but it is. I completely dread the thought of alcohol, yet I keep returning to that abusive relationship. Birthdays used to mean ice cream cake and pinatas, but now it's beer cases and turning myself into a pinata. When the COO said I looked like I got my ass kicked, he must have been referring to the bruises and scratches all over my arms (legs too but I've been covering them up as anyone getting beaten would do).

Since I got food poisoning last week, my liver hasn't gotten a break. The weekend consisted of drinking with my sister, Jaymi and brother-in-law, Ben, who graciously came to help me move. But the week only got rougher:

Monday- Drank with the new roomies (who I'm sure hate me now for falling over tables and dropping things when I've been drunk this week. I forget the concept of lights) at Alligator lounge which offers a free pizza coupon with every drink purchase. Pretty awesome because you can get a beer+pizza (tipping included) for $6.

Tuesday- Scarab lounge (hookah bar) with Tranny and Liane where we shared a pitcher of sangria (which was delicious! mmm fruit), peroegies (fried like Bell's AA) and onion rings. We went to this dive bar nearby called Holiday cocktail lounge for $7 beer+whiskey shots, where we met Tew and his new boss (Side note: visitors are also catalysts for intense drinking). Were we trying to go to another bar? Don't know but there were hotdogs. Mine was wrapped in bacon because bacon's awesome! At some point it had become my birthday (ugh), so the goal of getting me wasted... worked. Hence why....

Wednesday - I woke up drunk. Really drunk. Had a drink during the very fantastic U.S. vs Algeria game (well played U.S.) to not hit hangover. Upon finding out that it was my birthday, my coworker, Jro, organized after work drinks at Rattle n' hum, where I got drunk before dinner with Encore loves at Barbossa. We all shared crab dips. Liane and I shared the shrimp avocado curry which was more of a tomato based stew (favorite of the night) and some seafood stew. We went to Gatsby's after that. I was on my way home after, but checked-in with Tew and met up with his coworkers and continued drinking. After that, Tew and I went to Angel's share (delicious strawberry and tyme drink and earl grey drink). Then, I refused to let Tew make sure I get in a cab first and got creeped out by a man who pretended to be lost then asked if i wanted to grab a drink. In that process, I tripped over a trashcan I didn't see before a cab finally came to save me.

Thursday- I wasn't going to drink, but when I waited for Hannah and Jane at Stanton Social, I didn't know what else to do but order a cocktail at the bar (blood orange jalapeno margarita was quite a struggle). We ordered a bottle of wine, had great food then had coffee/tea in union square. By the time that was done it was 10:30pm. They advised me to go home, but no, I still wanted to meet up with Tew while he was in town. So he and his boss and I go to Third Floor to meet Timmy and friends. After a girl fight nearly broke out, Tew, his boss and I snuck out.

"Let's go to a strip club," they said.

Without hesitationed, I said "ok."

So we went to Penthouse Executive, which is more of a gentleman's club. While I was getting violated visually and physically by topless woman, I texted my boss to say "I might be late to work. My old coworkers are taking me to my first strip club for my 'birthday.' Warning you now." Tew and his boss said that probably wasn't a good idea, to which i responded with "He won't care. He tells me he's hungover all the time." In retrospect, no matter how cool your boss is, you probably still shouldn't text them at 2am saying you'll be late to work because you're watching naked women.

Friday- Ate yellow tail sashimi appetizer and burgers at Dumont with Dan. Met up with Jro and downed soju and whiskey before the booze cruise disco dance party with more coworkers. We went to some kind of brazilian bar for more dancing. Lost a coworker (*cough* Dan) and played Manhattan hide and seek to find him. So I see daylight once again before going to bed- evidence that it was an extremely fun night.

Today- I organized a birthday party at Professor Thom's. I dont want to drink but I've accepted the fact that it will happen. To this I say damn you birthday and damn you liquor.

"Do you feel older?" I-can't-remember-who asked.

"No just drunker. 24 just means 24 times drunker than before."

Have your Cake, oh and your beer too

In the three months I've lived in New York, here's what I've learned:

1. Sometimes when people cross the street hailing cabs they look like Nazis.

I discovered this on Monday as I was walking along Gramercy after work. My personal method for grabbing the attention of a taxi is the "half snap" or even swiping the palm out to the side, like you're waving hello to a giant. Clearly, this was not the choice of the man that extended his arm in front of him in a "Hail Hitler" pose as he paced back and forth along the crosswalk. But hey, you gotta do you, right?

2. Every minute counts.

It's all about matching the platforms when you're taking the train to work. Remember that time you were polite and didn't rush around the woman pushing her frilled out pug in a stroller? Maybe it only took an additional two minutes of walking, but then the doors to your transfer closed just as you got there. Two minutes became 15 minutes as you waited for the next train to arrive. Then you hit a train delay because someone vommited at a stop ahead. When you got out of the subway station, you hit the end of the blinking hand, making you stop at every block the rest of your walk. You don't defy the hand telling you not to cross because oh ...

Lesson 2.5 CABS WILL NOT STOP IF YOU CROSS IN FRONT OF THEM

And why did this all happen to you? Because you didn't shove the stroller woman out of the way to save two minutes of walking. Perhaps if she were pushing around a baby kangaroo it would have been worth it, but no, it was just a dog that has a more expensive wardrobe than you. Are we bitter? We sure are.

3. It's cool to name your bar a place that normally isn't a bar (i.e. The Library or Arlene's Grocery)

What's the purpose of this? Well, it's conversational really, so that you can say "I got wasted at the library last night."

But I suppose the other takeaway here is that things aren't always as they seem. You may think you're going to a cake shop, but it's kind of a record store, no wait, it's also a bar (Cakeshop, Ludlow between Rivington and Stanton). Jenn and I went to Cake shop the other night and I excitedly told Jenn, "I can order cake and beer here whilst I look through records!" I don't even like beer, but I had to do it because I could.

Hence... cake + beer:


You're probably thinking that the combination is odd and you are absolutely correct. Rolling rock doesn't complement carrot cake cupcake or oreo cake. You're probably also thinking "I'd never order cake at a bar." Never say never! The cakes weren't bad. The cream cheese frosting on the carrot cake cupcake was enjoyed by this frosting hater (pointing to me). I couldn't even tell the cupcake was vegan (Vegan is not a bad word). The oreo cake was moist, however, I'm going to agree with Jenn who mentioned it would have been better with ice cream (not beer). Would I try this combination again? Probably not, like I said it was odd. But the point is.. I could.

Gimme that Fish

My roommates have every right to be annoyed with me for two reasons:

1. Filet-o-fish jingle.

I downloaded the damn filet-o-fish ringtone to my phone. Don't know what song I'm talking about? I will warn you, that song will be stuck in your head FOREVER.
Filet-o-fish commercial
I don't know what happened, but now my phone's possessed and this song is literally haunting me. Even when set to silent, that damn tune plays every time I hang up on a call, miss a call or get a text. If that's not creepy enough, I actually deleted the file from my phone and it's still playing. Have I fallen victim to Mcdonald's phone viral trap in an effort to brainwash me to get a filet-o-fish from the McDonald's next to my apartment? Yes, yes, I imagine they've spent millions trying to devise such a plan and you know what Mickey D's ? (Please note: sarcasm. I'm not actually that self-absorbed. I understand the world does not revolve around me.) Your plan is a fail. I think. Damn, maybe I do want a filet-o-fish. Damn marketing. It works.


2. Drunk Cooking at 4am

After barhopping in LES, I developed a case of the drunk munchies. Was I actually hungry? Probably not. As far as I could tell, drunk= necessity to eat unhealthy amounts of unhealthy food. I failed to find the bar I had just been at, failed to find my roommate James, couldn't remember why I had even stepped outside, so I cabbed it home with the slowest driver ever. I could have explored food options from my sketchy Brooklyn neighborhood, but no, no drunk cooking seemed like a fantastic idea and you know what? It was delicious! (not just because I was drunk) What did I make? I'm going to call it "Drunken Ragout," even though the only drunken thing about it was me.

Drunken Ragout



Ingredients:
-Loaf of bread, cubed (I used one my roommate made in culinary class)
-tomato paste
-medium onion, cubed
-bacon, cut in pieces
-1/4 jar marinara sauce
-oil

What I did:
1. Heated oil
2. Cooked bread until crispy
3. Added bacon and cooked until crispy
4. Added onion until tender
5. mixed in tomato paste and marinera sauce
6. Ate massive amounts of it

Next day analysis: Not bad. Comforting- I mean it's fried bread and bacon. How could it not be comforting?

Why do I ultimately fail?



Battle wound on the left thumb. How did it happen? I cut my thumb when I was cutting onions. Perhaps, last night should be my last drunk cooking endeavor.