My girl, S, swears by vodka. Specially after ten-mile-long-fights with her man. She shuts herself up in her tiny shoebox apartment, and downs eight little vodka bottles at a go.
This, I discovered today.
We actually hit the library together on Mondays. She’s never late. Until today. So I went over to her place. I had a not-so-swell time frantically ringing the doorbell – she opened the door just as I was debating going all Hulksy and kicking her door down. Which wouldn’t have helped anyway. I’d have ended up with three broken toes.
The first thing I noticed? S wasn’t wearing makeup. Or contacts. Or her usual lacy tees. Now, this was the shocker of the century. S, bare-faced, miserable, BESPECTACLED. This is the girl who puts on winged eyeliner before she goes to get the mail. This is the girl who matches her contacts to her shirts. This is the girl who never cries or talks about her personal life. This is the girl you’d never see wearing glasses. Not in a million, gazillion years.
She let me in and her snappy Shih Tzu with attitude problems bigger than Kanye West’s, began barking his head off. Did I mention he hates me? Yes. He’s hated me since I touched his ponytail once. ONE FRIGGING TIME. Effing Nora. Grow up, snappy Shih Tzu. He’s also the biggest attention whore I’ve ever met. S wants to send him to the dog prison, he’s that annoying. I’m sorry for the TMI.
So anyway. I ignored the furball and looked over at my friend. She was incredibly hungover. Now, I haven’t seen a hungover person in my life. And S was the first. Did I mention chicks get highly entertaining when they are drunk?
Yep. Next thing I knew, the shy, quiet and conscious S, I’m repeating this to emphasise how quiet and shy she is – was talking her head off. She’s never opened up to anyone.
And there she was, talking boys. And how her guy was a complete jerk – my eyes just about popped out of my skull and landed on the floor with two sickening plops. Why? She’s never said anything mean about her guy. Ever. And there she was, hungover as a caterpillar on crack, laughing and bad-mouthing this guy. Which got me thinking, she needs booze more often. It’s fun hearing people come to their senses, comically, under the influence of booze-induced haze.
I got her to calm down. Wash her face. Took her out to lunch. And shopping. And right there, in the parking lot, while waiting for a cab, she had the giggles. Again.
I didn’t know how to calm her down then. She kept pointing and making eyes at every man in the area and screaming, “Hobo! Guys are hobos! Nice girls get hobos! So unfair. Look, Sooch, hobohobohobohobo!”
Interesting discovery – Hungover friends are funnier than every stand up comedy, ever.
I got yet another nomination for The Sisterhood Of The World Bloggers Award.
Immi (http://immimarsh.wordpress.com/) – who’s amazing and such a sweetheart – asked me the following questions. Please feel free to poke fun at my answers.
1. Describe yourself in 3 words:
Impulsive, funny, combustible.
2.What was the last book you read?
The Cinderella Murder – Mary Higgins Clark.
3. Favourite colour?
White. Also, mint, coral, cobalt blue.
4. If you could have one superpower, what would it be?
Telekinesis. Also, Being invisible at will.
5. What made you start writing a blog?
Crappy situations I put myself in and crappy people I have to deal with.
6. If you had to eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?
Seriously. I would snort donuts like LiLo does cocaine.
7. What was the last thing that made you laugh?
A very, very hungover S. Like I mentioned earlier.
8. Who is your embarrassing celebrity crush?
9. Favourite item of makeup?
10. What was the last song you listened to?
Tove Lo – Talking body. It’s on loop.
I’ve got a blogger’s block. And my poor little grey cells are hibernating, actually. And also because people ignore nominations like the Kardashians ignore Amber Rose. So yeah. No questions!