![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Breakfast at Tiffany's anyone?
May. 16th, 2004 03:03 amI can't believe that I did this to myself, but at the same time, I'm amazed. As freaking tired as I am, I didn't nap, didn't sleep, just didn't. I went out.
Showered, Shaved, and Pressed a shirt, and barely got ready when Ricardo rang the doorbell. Actually, I wasn't ready, but that's not the point.
MAn. Starting to nod off. Must keep going and quickly.
We listened to the Laker game (the longest freaking final "7 minutes" ever)on the way up, managed to pass Staples Center and miss all the traffic. Because "4 minutes left in the game and--Oh! they foul Shaq again!" is such a funny mantra. Especially when it was at 7 minutes 20 minutes earlier. Heh. Yay Lakers, makin' traffic clear for the Hollywood Club Scene.
Ooo. That was a long blink.
Got inside for free, danced a bit, downed a Red Bull, danced and chatted with Julie and Annie and danced some more. Then bring on the band--Pretty good one called Blood Arm, I *think*. Memory is starting to go. But good time. He walked on around and stood on the bar and broke his drummer's cymbols and everything. Neatto.
Spent most of the night talking to people and downing water. Caught an amazing mash up from this San Diego DJ which was Peaches "Rock Show" into "Hey Ya!" Wow. Went well. Freaked everyone out, cuz it so worked.
Then I sat and talked to Julie for an hour, and both of us were trying not to fall asleep because neither of us had slept really in three days. Stupid people. But fun. Silly me. Yesh.
Ricardo and I told Annie about our days working at Disneyland, and all the stupid hangovers from after work parties that we'd all suffer from. It's the real reason why I won't drink Tequilla anymore...And then I loafed around talking to some folks, and then boom. 90's Hip Hop thanks to Apollo Star, and for a couple of songs I bounced around like SeamusThe Pooka Fairy until my knee started bugging me. Which it is starting to do now when I dance. But not really. I think it's that under the knee thing that's related to Shin splints. I dunno. It's just what I'd sometimes get when I was running Cross Country.
And then in there somewhere I have been dancing at Goth/Industrial/Punk/Electroclash/Indie/Mod Whatever clubs that I have pretty much lost the ability to dance to just plain old Hip-Hop Rap stuff. Like, I did the running man and it just felt like I was doing it wrong. Maybe I still need to be on a gym floor in socks. Maybe I was sober. Or whatevah.
Left at the end of the night and into the sea of headlights and red tail lights. We had to detour from the 110 at Adams, so we got off on Olympic, swung around Staples and The Convention Center, to Pico and down Figeroa to (Where did we turn? 3rd? I dunno. Flower?) But we made it to Adams faster than their detour which appeared to have them swing waaaaaaaay out of the way. Well, that and their was so much blocked backed off traffic we did better.
Almost passed out right now. Almost done. Hold on and then pillow time.
And home. Made it home. Ricardo alive and hopefully should be pulling home about....now. Me, I'm just tireder than shit and starting to hallucinate...but what the hell am I doing writing. Have to get it down. Have to do it now.
Have to remind myself to write about the wedding. WEDDING. Tomorrow?
I'm so frelling pooped. But...hee..heee...hehahahahahaha.
Okay. I just snapped my head over and banged it on the wall. I need to go to bed. Oh, look...seeing things in the corners of my vision. Sleep now.
Sleeeeeeeeep.
Showered, Shaved, and Pressed a shirt, and barely got ready when Ricardo rang the doorbell. Actually, I wasn't ready, but that's not the point.
MAn. Starting to nod off. Must keep going and quickly.
We listened to the Laker game (the longest freaking final "7 minutes" ever)on the way up, managed to pass Staples Center and miss all the traffic. Because "4 minutes left in the game and--Oh! they foul Shaq again!" is such a funny mantra. Especially when it was at 7 minutes 20 minutes earlier. Heh. Yay Lakers, makin' traffic clear for the Hollywood Club Scene.
Ooo. That was a long blink.
Got inside for free, danced a bit, downed a Red Bull, danced and chatted with Julie and Annie and danced some more. Then bring on the band--Pretty good one called Blood Arm, I *think*. Memory is starting to go. But good time. He walked on around and stood on the bar and broke his drummer's cymbols and everything. Neatto.
Spent most of the night talking to people and downing water. Caught an amazing mash up from this San Diego DJ which was Peaches "Rock Show" into "Hey Ya!" Wow. Went well. Freaked everyone out, cuz it so worked.
Then I sat and talked to Julie for an hour, and both of us were trying not to fall asleep because neither of us had slept really in three days. Stupid people. But fun. Silly me. Yesh.
Ricardo and I told Annie about our days working at Disneyland, and all the stupid hangovers from after work parties that we'd all suffer from. It's the real reason why I won't drink Tequilla anymore...And then I loafed around talking to some folks, and then boom. 90's Hip Hop thanks to Apollo Star, and for a couple of songs I bounced around like SeamusThe Pooka Fairy until my knee started bugging me. Which it is starting to do now when I dance. But not really. I think it's that under the knee thing that's related to Shin splints. I dunno. It's just what I'd sometimes get when I was running Cross Country.
And then in there somewhere I have been dancing at Goth/Industrial/Punk/Electroclash/Indie/Mod Whatever clubs that I have pretty much lost the ability to dance to just plain old Hip-Hop Rap stuff. Like, I did the running man and it just felt like I was doing it wrong. Maybe I still need to be on a gym floor in socks. Maybe I was sober. Or whatevah.
Left at the end of the night and into the sea of headlights and red tail lights. We had to detour from the 110 at Adams, so we got off on Olympic, swung around Staples and The Convention Center, to Pico and down Figeroa to (Where did we turn? 3rd? I dunno. Flower?) But we made it to Adams faster than their detour which appeared to have them swing waaaaaaaay out of the way. Well, that and their was so much blocked backed off traffic we did better.
Almost passed out right now. Almost done. Hold on and then pillow time.
And home. Made it home. Ricardo alive and hopefully should be pulling home about....now. Me, I'm just tireder than shit and starting to hallucinate...but what the hell am I doing writing. Have to get it down. Have to do it now.
Have to remind myself to write about the wedding. WEDDING. Tomorrow?
I'm so frelling pooped. But...hee..heee...hehahahahahaha.
Okay. I just snapped my head over and banged it on the wall. I need to go to bed. Oh, look...seeing things in the corners of my vision. Sleep now.
Sleeeeeeeeep.
