chin strap

went to party last night with my fellow waitresses from nile.

had a few shots, was feeling fine.

vaguely considered hooking up with flirty boy with chinstrap, fake bake, diamond stud earings, shaved and gelled roman haircut, and tight abercrombie shirt.

the boston guido.

immediately cut myself off right then and there.

believe have reached some important milestone in life; that point where am able now to grasp reality even in the most hazy and drug/alcohol induced situations.

however, must remember not to be too smug;

though narrowly avoided the douchebag bullet last night, a bullet that would have certainly got me last year, i was lucky i've grown acustomed to the signs and therefore reacted.

one more shot and i would have lost all reason, causing me to awake this morning (afternoon?) in post-drunken misery with deep, wrenching shame, probably smelling like fierce by abercrombie and vomit.

i will use this newfound skill at stop light party tonight.

600 people going, 500 most likely douches.


praise wisdom.