Okay, so that's a lie. But I had the hangover to end all hangovers today.
It was one of those mornings where I shot out of bed at 9am, ready to take on the day. "Wow. I feel fabulous!" I thought to myself. " Hangover schmangover." I had partied pretty hard the night before (from what I could remember, that is). It was a miracle of science that I was in such good shape.
Cut to me, thirty minutes later, lying on the kitchen floor unable to move.
I spent the large majority of the day flat on my back in bed (and, no -- not in the good way). But, have no fear, there were back-to-back showings of "You've Got Mail" and "While You Were Sleeping" on TBS.
That said, Williamsburg was great last night. The band was bitchin' (yeah -- you heard me: "bitchin.' I'm bringing the term back.) I shouted and cheered a ton and danced my a$$ off. The way home is a bit blurry still.
I think I managed to drink my way through Williamsburg to the L-train, then vaguely recall being on the train with a beer in a paper bag (yep, that's me. The Queen of Class.) though I cannot for the life of me remember precisely how I obtained said beer. My alcoholic rampage continued from 14th Street down 1st Avenue where I believe my intention was to go home, but I wound up crossing Houston, hitting a few places on the LES and then concluding my night by vomiting in a bar that shall remain nameless on Orchard Street. (Again. Super-classy. Yesiree. C'est moi.)
Today proved to be an interesting education in hangover techniques. The routine "Hey. How did your night end up? Did you SEEE that douchebag I went home with" calls involved their fair share of coaching (yeah, yeah -- hair of the dog. I've heard it already). But far more useful was Hangover.net. They offer cures in three categories: Classic (water, more sleep, Gatorade), Healthy (pound a V8, stuff yourself with Vitamin B, or have a banana for extra potassium) and -- my favorite -- Freaky.
A few gems:
Grab a Nipple (one guy swears by breast milk. Do you think it matters if it's from the bottle or the boob?)
El Lemon (rubbing lemon "under your drinking arm." At least they take the time to warn chicks not to do so post-shaving.)
Get a Soot Fetish (19th century british chimney sweeps claim that a nice soot milkshake always does the trick. Ick.)
I had some strong coffee, juice and an egg sandwich. I'll try the sheep's eye in tomato juice next time perhaps.