No wait, it's about the [[party|Katie]] I went to last night. Since the theme was, "holiday cocktail party", I decided to take the opportunity to [[dress ridiculously|fancypants]], which automatically made me too excited and I had to have like three drinks just to calm down.\n\nTo misquote the always phenomenal, sadly fictional Caroline Forbes, it took me two hours to get ready, so I had to stay at the party for at least half that time...in reality, that's how long it took me to [[settle in and be cool|the party]] and remember that sometimes I decide to leave my house for a //reason//.

So I got this foofy cocktail dress almost a year ago, and I'd never worn it anywhere, which is a tragedy considering the thing has sequined crinoline and a little pink patent-leather belt. However it is not a dress meant for an ample bosom, and anyway, my entire body is basically made of Play Doh these days I guess, I don't know, nothing fits the same and every three weeks my jeans fit wrong...but when I tried this ridiculous dress on, it fit okay, so I wore it with some combat boots and several neon-colored items of clothing, because I'm secretly a clown. \n\nIt's the kind of look people comment on but don't compliment, but whatever, those people are assholes. [[Back to the party!|ActualStart]]

This is a story about [[vomit|ActualStart]].

There are a few stages to puking:\n\nStage 1: Knowing you're going to throw up, but not being able to yet. This is my second least favorite stage. If you suddenly have way too much saliva in your mouth and you have to keep spitting on the sidewalk every five seconds, congrats, you're here.\n\nStage 2: Actually throwing up in a productive way. This part is at least fast, although it's super messy if you don't know what you're doing (or, if you just got a new coat and forgot it has a hood and so don't push it out of the way in time, not that I did that -_-).\n\nStage 3: Dry heaves, also known as, "my stomach hates me and wants to crawl out my throat and find a new body." I don't blame it.\n\nTip from a reluctant pro - get your face as close to the container that is supposed to be holding your puke. You can't throw up into a toilet from a standing position without getting vomit everywhere, just to give one example that's not at all an actual thing I once did while living with Katie and that she later had to clean up.\n\n[[So yeah, that happened.|Bleh]]

December 16, 2012

So I got to the party, got all wound up by being around a bunch of people (as opposed to wishing I was back home in my pajamas, which is the other, more frequent reaction), and then the next thing I knew, all the pre-mixed cocktails were gone and I was allowed to mix my own drinks!\n\nNever let drunk!Courtney mix her own drinks.\n\nSo a river of vodka later...I don't know, I guess I texted my spouse to come get me? Anyway, I was wrangled into the car.\n\nAnd then the [[vomit|vomit]] happened.

Courtney Stanton

I think in the first year we were dating, Darius had to pull the car over so I could throw up after a party four or five times. \n\nSo in a way, the fact that this is the only Vomit Incident of 2012 is a good thing!\n\n...But in another way, it's probably still pretty bad.

.passage { width: 600px !important}\na { color: #b4d455; }

When I first moved to Boston, my roommate was my long-distance met-on-the-internet-friend Katie. Living with Katie was like a trial by fire on how to be a fucking grownup about one's feelings and shit.\n\n(I had like five horrible anectdotes here but just trust me: When I say, "I don't understand why anyone is friends with me," Katie is absolutely one of the people I am thinking about when I say that.)\n\nKatie maintains a social network that is better-balanced than most videogames, and as a result, she throws excellent parties, such as the one [[last night.|ActualStart]]