how can i help?

The sky's getting brighter. I didn't even realize that it had gotten so late that it's early. I watched Kill Bill 2 with my roommate and his girlfriend. I thought the first was pretty good, but not spectacular, and the second one seemed to drag on a lot. I wonder why he had to do two movies to tell such a cut and dry story. At least Tarantino didn't try to go for a trilogy like the Matrix guys.

Maybe I didn't realize the passage of time because I didn't roll out of bed until exactly 1:11 PM this afternoon. I don't remember what time it was when I got home Friday night / early Saturday morning. I know I took a cab, because I remember noticing that the cab didn't have a meter, and I was worried the driver was trying to pull a fast one on us. He didn't, but my roommate J paid for it anyway; I was out of money. I got inside, poured myself a glass of water and contemplated what to eat since all I had for dinner was the scant remnants of a left over burrito. There was no food, so I took the glass of water with me over to the couch. I took two sips before I passed out. The couch, technically, is only a love seat. When I lay down on it, my a good portion of my legs dangle over the edge (and I'm only 5'9"), but for some reason, it's the perfect place to fall into drunken beddy bye on.

I dont' think I realized how drunk I was until I was in the cab. I hadn't had all that much to drink--at least I didn't think so--but then I remembered the two beers at work, the double Captain and cokes, the cans of Natty Ice (it's gotta be the most toxic and potent beer ever. Drink it fast, because it's only good for getting wasted...but if that's what you want, look no further), and things started to fall into place. I wasn't even that toe up, mind you. I've been worse; not that I'm proud of that. I passed out on the couch and was torn awake at about 9:30 AM when my alarm clock went off. I heard it all the way from my bedroom, which is on the other end of my house (which, granted, isn't all that big). I hopped off the couch fine. It wasn't till three steps later that the hangover kicked in.

It was nasty; it was like something vomited and then died in my mouth. I shut the alarm, made an extended stop in the bathroom, then waddled back into my bed where I, again, passed out till the afternoon.

This whole day was wasted, though I did finish writing my article for the magazine in San Francisco. I think it turned out okay. I started writing it at 3 PM, after an emergency stop at Carl's Jr, and didn't finish it up till about 10. I guess I was taking my sweet ass time about it, but I felt like an old man all day.

Friday night was the de facto social event of the season--though there seems to have been two this summer--at the bar outside of downtown. A couple rappers from the Bay came up to perform with a local crew that has a large following; even my roommate J, who has immortalized my name in a song, was going to rap a couple songs. The show itself was great, and got better as the night went on, and my critcal mind was drowned in more amber beverages. After the show, there was this annoying prick outside who was heckling the people leaving the bar. I'd also saw him walk near the stage during the show to spray the performers with a shaken up beer bottle. He didn't know what he was doing though and the beer just kinda fizzed out limply. The guy stole a CD from one of the rap guys, who chased down the annoying prick and beat him up or something. I think he took his wallet, too. I don't know nothing though.

After the party was the after party. We all went to 'the ranch' to chill out and drink some more presumably; well, I did anyway. I sat at a table with one of my co-workers and we joked about how people just trickled in over time; everyone came in with a story too. The guys who rent the place left the door open, which attracted a team of young randoms; I don't think they could have been at the show because they were all under 21, but that hadn't stopped them from drinking themselves toasty before they got to the after party. I couldn't figure out if they knew anyone, and I guess it didn't matter. Their crew was either five or four, but could have been as many as six; it was really hard to tell. I remember passing local wisdom on to one of the girls in the group. She was probably 18, a freshman in a surprisingly modest tight top and miniskirt; tall and lean and I did my best not to notice. She started talking to me while I was half asleep on a chair outside--she couldn't find her friends--and ended up asking me about the town.

This si something I've been doing a lot of lately--imparting my wisdom on to people, even though I'm admittedly short on the stuff. Granted, a lot of my friends are younger than me, though now not as many as before, and I've always taken a little bit of pride in being my group's de facto patriarch. I used to get asked for advice and things of that nature all the time, and though I don' t think I'm qualified, it was nice to feel needed and respected. Now that I've gotten a little older, I realize how little I actually know, I try to be more careful about saying anything really; being talkative can only get you into trouble I think (was that more wisdom? Do you see what I'm talking about? I'm like an addict). But lately, I've been offering nuggets of wisdom like I'm Yoda or something. The girl was asking questions and eager to hear about her new environment, but seriously, I have to get over myself.