The Hangover

Hello Jameson.

It never ends well when you make a plan to get drunk. Who does that? I don’t think I actually tell myself, yea, I’m gonna get drunk tonight. It’s more along the lines of, I’m gonna have so much fun tonight. Because I can. No, Lindsay. No, you can’t. You are an old person and you really do not need to do any more shots. Just stop.

But I get in this mode. This is the last time. Never again. I work the day shift at Brick. I’m super stoked to go out tonight. I tell Leo. I’m gonna rage tonight. “Oh yea, Stets? What’s that for you? Dominos, pecan pie, some Lifetime?”

I mean, really. Who comes up with that as an immediate response? I can’t help but laugh so hard. Dick.

Leo also says things to me like, “Your existence fascinates me.”


I finish work. Then I have my show. I am so ready to unwind, especially after the whole debacle last night with locking my keys in the car. Let’s go out. I’ve made plans with some castmates to go out tonight, but they have all become totally lame and don’t want to go out. You guys. I am going out. Natascia even gave me her awesome costume.

Have I mentioned Natascia? She is Giuditta’s daughter and she is awesome. Giuditta went out of the country for over a month so Natascia stayed at the house to take care of the dogs. So we started to get to know each other. About the same age, she is a personal chef. How cool is that? (Oh, and she may or may not have gone to high school with Brett. That’s neither here nor there.)

Natascia has this great energy that is confident and loving and makes you want to know her. When I get home late at night and walk in the house to use the bathroom, her bedroom door is always open and I’m greeted with, “Hey, Lady! How are you?” And we chat, like girls do. Sidenote: when no one is at the house, I get scared. So, it’s nice to have ‘roommates.’ I’d love to have my own place, but.  Just sayin’.

So anyway, I am going out, no matter what. We were supposed to go to some party in West Hollywood, but it falls through, and the girls are all not really up for anything, so I head home.

Text Jimmy (I have mentioned Jimmy. We work together at Brick and he has graciously offered to be my wingman in any and all cases). Let’s go out. This is the conversation:

Jimmy: Where u live

Me: Marina

Jimmy: Hmmmmm well…. whatcha thinkin

Me: Idk I have no friends

Jimmy: Haha you want to go out?

Me: I mean yea I would

Jimmy: Do you want to go out?

Me: Lol yessssss

Jimmy: K I’ll eat and get ready and then I’ll call you.


Jimmy: I’m too tired stets. that food put me down. I’d roll if I didn’t have to work at 8 in the morning.

… Jimmy: Fuck it I’m gonna hop in the shower. text me ur address I’ll be there by 11.

Me: Oh ew! I forgot you have work in the am. Don’t feel like you have to.

Jimmy: I don’t leavin meow

Me: Lol k

So Jimmy comes over and I actually have a guest in my place. Weird. No one ever comes over. We sit and chat for a little. I am completely decked out in a Halloween costume- this pink bejeweled dia de los muertos leotard made by Natascia, with a beautiful handmade flowered headband to match. It’s adorable. Jimmy is cool as can be in jeans, a T-shirt, and leather jacket. I don’t even care. I do not feel stupid. Because

I already took two shots of whiskey before he got here. And now we will do one together. And then we’re off to Main Street. The Basement first. Some nerdy Asian guy walks up to me as Jimmy is ordering drinks at the bar. He starts conversation by complimenting my costume. I really don’t know what else he says because I don’t care. Jimmy turns around. “Is this your boyfriend?” Yup. “Oh, cool!” He has one more line then walks away. This is amazing. Jimmy really is a good wingman. I mean, he can at least ward off the creepers. Jimmy knows every bartender here. Which is good and bad because I am handed one too many drinks. To the point where I don’t think I can finish. Whatever. I look ridiculous. I’ll just keep drinking.

We leave. And head to Brick+Mortar. The black hole of alcoholism.

I am greeted with a shot. And am then invited behind the bar to say hi to all my lovely bartenders. Blah blah blah blackout. Finn McCool’s. Uber home. Die.

To say I’m hungover is an understatement. I feel fucking terrible. I am such an asshole. Why did I do this to myself? I try to recover at Republic of Pie with a slice of quiche and a latte, but the food and drink combo puts me in a worse place than I was to begin with. This is fucking awful. I have to perform tonighttttt. I am so dumb. It is the most painful performance ever and not until intermission do I start to feel normal again. Thank God I have a small part. Thank God no one is coming to see this show, anyway. Thank God I am young and can drink as much as I want to and recover quickly. Not.

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