WHAT. A. WEEKEND!!!
I'm pretty surprised at this weekend, which was by far the best one I have had in AGES. It started Friday night when someone I lived last year came into town (he actually arrived Thursday Night/early Friday morning). Friday night we had a party/keg race. I wasn't going to join in the keg race at first but eventually said screw it. We managed to get through them before Midnight. As much fun as that night was, there were three things that sucked. 2 of them were boughts of hiccups that struck and would not go away. I think the second bought is when I called it a night and just went to sleep. The other thing was that I randomly got nauseous in the midst of the festivities and had to lie down for a bit. I got over it puke-free, then got up and resumed consumption. I would have done an Irish Car Bomb or two that night, but I didn't want to test my stomach too much.
Then there was Saturday, St. Patrick's Day. I had turned my alarm off the night before expecting to sleep in, but ended up waking up before 10, still slightly drunk, but sober enough to do a post on my other blog. I had to go to work at 5 that evening, but we (i.e. the guys I live with) made plans for an ABC trip and a run to the grocery story for Irish Car Bomb supplies and some Killians. We got back around 2, 2:30 and started doing car Bombs and playing some drinking games outside with some friends and neighbors (some of whom were quite fit lads). Between then and going to work, I had 6 Car Bombs (including one just before I left, for good measure). Some things definitely worked out for me at work. 1) The manager was who it was, otherwise, I could have gotten into some deep shit for going into work in such a state. 2) I checked my schedule for the next day (Sunday) to discover I was not working, meaning I could drink more when I got home. 3) No major mistakes. Again, I'd have gotten in trouble being in that state. 4) It was busy at the beginning and then just died around 8-9. I was a late cut and had plans to either catch up with the people I had been drinking with or go downtown...or both. 
I ended up getting home at 10:30...and immediately took another Car Bomb. Unfortunately though everyone had either passed out or gone their own way downtown. I ended up going downtown. It wasn't nearly as busy as I thought it would be, meaning there was a little room in the bars through which to walk. I expected an utter cluster-fuck and was happily wrong. Nothing really happened downtown, except I ended up in the women's bathroom with two girls (not nearly as glamorous as it sounds, trust me). Also, I got several compliment on how I was dressed, which was awesome. I don't have a picture of the outfit, but I did put some effort into it. I left downtown right around last call (1:30-1:40ish) and got home, was talking for a while and eventually went to bed. When I looked at my clock the next day when I woke up, it was 12:44 which is really late for me. No hangover though, just really tired. Despite being really tired all day Sunday, I didn't get to sleep until after 5:00 AM. After running this morning, I spent an hour cleaning the kitchen. It was a huge mess.
The REAL kicker is that after all of the overindulgence and abuse/neglect I put my body through in those 3 days, I managed to muster the strength to run 6 miles today (3 in the morning, 3 in the afternoon). I've never done that before. Maybe I should drink more often...I have to say that something I learned this weekend (which I kinda knew beforehand, it was just reenforced) from various interactions with some straight guys is that when they're drunk, they're a lot gayer. No, I'm not talking about sex, I just mean that the super-macho facade comes crumbling down, and they get more touchy (to whatever degree) with other guys than they likely would sober.
WHAT. A. WEEKEND!!!
