Drunk and Stupid (the abridged version of my life)

I can officially say that I'm starting to enjoy the city. It's taken me three hard months, and I'm still incredibly homesick, but the city has its bright points. The weather is nicer. Public transportation (when it's running on schedule) is great. This week is "Fashion Week" which simply translates that there are thousands of beautiful models all over the city. They walk in packs and puddles of drool gather at the feet of every male that happens to witness such a spectacle.

But that (surprisingly) is not the best part of the city.
Do you want to know what is?

BUYBACKS!!!!!!!

Let me explain......or at least fail miserably in an attempt.
When I first arrived in the city, I had a hard time getting adjusted to higher prices. Everything costs more here, except a bottle of water is still roughly a dollar. Me, being in the habit of drinking heavily (thanks Northgate!!), I was appalled at the price of beer! A six pack of good beer can cost you anywhere from $9 to $13 dollars. A pint of beer at your local watering hole can easily be $7 or more. Try drinking a Guinness for less than $8.

Or so I thought.
I've recently discovered that there are much more "wallet-friendly" establishments here in the city, once you know where to look. Happy Hour is also something I've never looked forward to until now. I now know places where I can drink Guinness for the amazing price of $3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Try getting that back home (the cheapest I can remember is Monday night at the Chimes is something like $4.25?)

The fun comes in when the buybacks start. You see, after you've paid for and systematically guzzled your first few drinks, a bartender will usually offer to buy you the next round. In order to keep the buybacks coming, the trick is to continue to tip the barkeep even though you didn't pay for the drink. It's essentially like buying beer for a dollar.

Buybacks have gotten me in a world of trouble. You see......I have a problem.
No, not the type of problem that requires an intervention (unless you just really want to come visit), but a problem nonetheless. I don't wake up craving beer (mmmmm......beer), but if someone offers me a drink and does not ask for money in return for said drink, I cannot say no. Thus, my problem.

Being that I'm a creature of habit, I was in Queens the other night, enjoying a nice after-work beer with my co-workers. We arrived shortly after 5pm, right in the midst of Happy Hour, and began drinking our $3 draught beers. Sometime close to 12:30am, having accidentally skipped dinner, I realized that I should probably make some attempt at stumbling home. I weebled and wobbled all the way to the train, and that is as far as my story goes.........simply because I cannont remember anything else. Thankfully I ended up safe in my slightly uncomfortable futon/bed with half of my clothes on, including one shoe and my hat, but not my pants.......

Don't feel bad for me or my liver. I am actually in the midst of a self-imposed dry period. Mostly because after my adventure and subsequent hangover, I can't look at a beer without wanting to blow chunks. The hangover was not quite as bad as when Corey and I floated the Abita Keg @ Brian's Party.......but it did not make work easy at all today.

So enough about alcohol and hurl. I'm off to bed, so that I can wake up and have some other incredibly random events that never seemed to happen when I lived back home.

Three Month Heartbreak

can't believe that it's been three months here already.

I also can't believe how heartbroken I am about my hometown.

I guess that some people might not know, but I was born in New Orleans. Even though I didn't grow up there, I still have this strong yet strange connection to the city. I have spent the last week fighting back tears and holding back screams. It hurts so bad that so many people have passed away and even more are forced to leave their homes after a horrible act of nature. It bugs me that everyone knew that the threat of New Orleans sinking was real, but nothing has ever been done about it.

I don't want this to turn into a political rant so I'll state my piece and be done. The Bush administration's response to this tragedy is appalling!

I feel so helpless this far away from home. I can't do anything to help from 3000 miles away. I've given to the American Red Cross and I encourage you all to do the same.

I'm proud of my friends who are back home for being strong and helping in the ways they have. You all are inspirations and I wish desperately that I could be among you. Sadly, I know that if I come home, I won't return to the big apple. Homesickness is truly a sickness indeed.

On another note, I hit the cover off of a baseball yesterday. Granted, it was a cheap baseball that the seams were already split on, but nonetheless, I crushed it.

I hope those who read this are ok and your families are ok. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help you, even though I'm so far from my home. Peace.