My Mom's drunker at your mom - part II

Well, I hope you all had a fine, fine Memorial Day Weekend.

Mine was alright. Friday, at work, happy hour started at about 1:30, so by the time we got to leave at 3, I was feeling pretty good. I came home and did all my crap I usually drag out all weekend so that I could do whatever, and not have to worry about cleaning my apartment.

Saturday, in a fit of boredom, and curiosity, I got in my car and just started driving. I thought Pacific Coast Highway would be a nice scenic drive.

Wrong.

PCH is scenic in parts, but not so much. It runs through a whole lot of crappy looking neighborhoods. After about two hours, I got on the freeway and came home. And, for anyone who doesn't live here (which is everyone, except Wen, I think), the 405 freeway really is the most horrid stretch of highway in the history of paved road. It doesn't matter what day of the week, or what time of day, it's bad.

I also almost got killed by some deranged woman in a huge Dodge Ram that apprently couldn't see my Corolla in her mirrors, because she almost hit me about 18 times.

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Sunday was Kay and DMX's bbq. I started drinking this citrus vodka/crystal light drink, and it's good. Well, it's good and bad. It's good because it tastes good, but it's bad because it doesn't taste like you're drinking booze at all. Post-surgery, after one good mixed drink, I am way buzzed. After two, I am DRUNK.

So, I was hanging out in the garage (as all good white trash do at such an event) watching nascar with DMX and my sister, Jackie, when Kay, also lit off the crystal light drinks, decided we should pretend we were Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes.

Yeah. She's trying to eat my face.

Kay, because she likes to torture me, also invited my parents. Everyone else thinks it's cool that my parents hang out and drink and have a good time, but I just get embarrassed. I mean, it's only a matter of time at these things before my Mom starts joking about "my domestic skills aren't the reason [Dad] married me! It's the sucking - and I am not talking about the vaccum!" Ha ha. Real fucking funny. Everyone laughs, I want to shoot myself.

Plus, my mother is a loud-mouth, and she and my Dad NEVER STOP TALKING.

Sure, you guys all laugh now, but if this was your mom, you wouldn't think it was so funny.

Not only is she boligerantly drunk, but she apparently also has no eyes.

Here's the only picture Jackie told me I am allowed to post here:

My friends Angela and Barney were there with their sweet little baby, Jack. I took about 90 (I am not kidding) pictures of him, but I think this one is my favorite. You can only see his little blue baby eye:

He's a one-eyed Jack. Goddamn, I am so clever.

Barney creeped me out (yet again), when they left, and he hugged me *gag* and said "Bye, Muffin. I love you."

First, I fucking hate that he still calls me muffin. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.

It started out as a joke, and now I just want it to end already.

Second, this is the fourth or fifth time he's told me he loves me. It just creeps me out. He doesn't tell anyone else this.

Later, after most of the people were gone, DMX and I, in a drunken stupor, decided to sing "Islands In The Stream." We didn't have the music. And we didn't know the words. We just sang "Islands in the stream, that is what we are, and we'll rely on each other, uh-huh" over and over and over. Til we decided to sing "I've Got You Babe." We knew a little bit more of that song.

Thank god there aren't pictures of that.

Good times.

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If I haven't pointed it out before, alcohol intensifies my feelings, and makes me want to express them to whoever is on my mind. This is not always a bad thing, but last night, it would have been. I almost sent an email to someone that would have been a huge mistake. And would have surely made me look like some kind of psycho, I think.

I woke up this morning, and the email was still sitting waiting to be sent. Thank god I didn't send it, and deleted the hell out of it.

I haven't been hung over in a while.

This is no fun.