When Unibloggers Unite

my story:



this past week i had the fine pleasure of visiting a few of our bloggy pals and former sf residents in nyc. it was audrey's 30th bday, so what better time to head out east for a brooklyn/boozy/friend/freezo fest. on friday night a bunch of us met up in williamsburg at union pool where project "hang out with colleen (our favorite little tornado) and try not to go crosseyed" took place. i have never been in a tornado. you see, i'm from california. perhaps if i'd done some research before meeting up i would have known that seeking refuge somewhere underground may have left me in better shape. but no. instead i handed the tornado $20, told her to buy me a vodka soda and whatever she wanted for herself. when i turn back around to see tequila town waiting for us i knew i was about to see the eye of the storm.



cab ride home is very fuzzy. i do remember waking up in audrey's room the next morning with an odd combination of her pj's and mine on. when getting up to look for my purse in all common areas and auds' room and not finding it i went into minor i'mafuckingidiotandleftmypurseatthebar-panic. claire (my former and audrey's current roomie) hollered that it was in her room. i went in to claim it and found it next to the pile of every article of clothing i was wearing from the night before. my panic attack was apparently all i had the energy for so i remained horizontal with no voice at all until 3pm when it was time to attempt to celebrate audrey's bday.

lesson learned: tornadoes are serious business. next time i will approach in a less amateur style. i will hunker down in my basement, curl up in my bathtub with a couch cushion over my head, or at least eat extra bread with dinner. luckily tornado colleen also comes with tons of hugs and laughs for days which makes all of the devastation totally worth it.

colleen's story:



After sitting at a bar bored to tears by a struggling musician, he and i (yes, i brought him. shut up.) head over the peach pit after dark (union pool) to meet up with "the gang". i spy stephanie and audrey and we bro-out for a bit and then before i know it, stephanie plants a jackson in my hand with free reign to do whatever i want with it!!! note to readers: if ever at a bar with me i do not advise you handing me cash. i pretend i'm a hilton and will ask the bartender what kind of bang i can get for my buck. all of my bucks. that aren't actually mine. so that is exactly what i did. and well, for twenty dollars you'll get a pabst, a vodka soda and two very large shots of tequila. i hope i left a tip. after i did half my shot and resisted my gag reflexes, i decided it was time to leave. i grabbed my "friend" and headed out.

once outside homeboy finally says something i can relate to, "i need a sandwich." so, we walk the two blocks to hana food and order some food. i gave him my cash and then went outside to smoke a cigarette on the bench and much to my delight there was a very sweet delivery man outside who was ready to chat. i'm not so sure what we talked about he but was "a total sweetheart" and just shy of 50 years old. when i was done with my cigarette i got up, took one step, or should i say misstep and fell face forward on the sidewalk. we're talking a full on face plant into cement. as drink drank drunk as i was, my reliable left hand was able to come inbetween me and a mouthful of missing teeth. i broke my fall, but just barely. no missing teeth, thank LBJ, but a large bump and cut on my eyebrow resulted, of course not until the next day, when i had feeling again. all i remember is the very nervous delivery man helping me up and asking if he needed to call 911.

folks, the moral of this story is don't fall on your face. and if you can't help it, hope that your hands will rise to the occasion and help you out on your way down.