Booze, guitairs, pot and fifties dancing

Most of Thursday's activities were relegated to lying on the sofa and going ooooh, aaaaah at the pain in my poor muscles. Still slightly sore now and its 4 days later. First activity of the day was meeting the Saint at her office, alas severe injury and David Sedaris meant we had to reschedule for meeting at the Food Emproium instead, not exactly a hardship. After a quick shop for o-so-delicious curry paste and a suicide-inducing crawl through NY's finest muggy heat we arrived at Brendan's apartment. An evening of pot-smoking, guitair playing, drinking and drunken shouting ensued. Its hard thinking about being grown up and successful and celebrating with fancy clothes and chamagne when all I ever want to do is drink beer, smoke pot and sit on a couch. Could be hard to pull off at a work function. So after a blissfully debauched scene I dragged myself out to meet James and Jenny. Jenny is an old-school NY party girl was a feature of the Party Monster book/movie/murder. Needless to say time hadn't dapened her party inclination and after hitting a couple of less than enticing venues we danced into the small hours to jive music at some downtowm dive bar. I was drunk. I accidentally made out with Jenny. I blame her.