Its Your Party and I'll Cry if I Want To

Nothing says Happy Holidays! quite like getting totally smashed at a good friend's party and then going out in the alley and sobbing so pathetically and endlessly to another good friend on the phone to the point where they have to call the party host to come outside and collect your blubbering remains strewn about the half melted snow. Wow. Yay! Happy Holidays! I'm so festive! A great addition to any holiday gathering! I'll be your genuine 100% gauranteed holiday asshole replete with a total lack of social skills. Invite me now and I'll be sure to appear at your party with my very own pity party of one in tow.

Not-so-sneaky Eliza, I guess you were right and those Peppermint Sticks really do catch up with you. I'm so sorry, I've always been a lyric misquoter but I did indeed know that the song doesn't in fact go "Its your party and I'll cry if I want to...". Mr. Artsy Hotpants, you were an angel once again. Thanks for staying with me on the phone until I got home. Lone Star Talent, are you regretting the bargain of cheap rent for tiny space, killer cat, and roomate who frequently sobs on your shoulder in the middle of the night? I bet you didn't realize how often you'd be pulling snot duty...neither did I. I do count myself quite lucky for it though. And Orphannie, I have no recollection whatsoever of calling you (though I've been known to drunk dial you crying on more than one occasion, so I shouldn't be surprised), but I just got your voice mail and it was so very sweet and wonderful. I saved it to play back to my pathetic little ass ad nauseum.

Perhaps I have now crossed the relationship threshold to the not-so-good point. Perhaps I also have a teeny weensy bit of a melodramatic streak in me. Perhaps I should not drink Peppermint Sticks next year.

I think this totally counts as worse than last year's annual holiday party story of My Little Vidipookikins falling asleep on the subway and getting confused as to how the hell to get to the Upper West Side from Astoria. (besides, I think I fell asleep on the subway that year too, so I can't really make fun.) Can someone else please take the reigns o' shame now? I'm a little over the thrill of being a joke in and of myself.

I also think I'm still drunk, but don't worry, I'm not crying at the moment. I am, however, going back to bed, where I can hide under the covers and pretend I didn't embarass myself quite so thoroughly.