I went out last night and got so very, very drunk. It only took two cocktails. If that doesn't clearly illustrate it for you, let me spell it out: C-h-e-a-p d-r-u-n-k.

I enjoy being a cheap drunk, for one thing it's cheap. Ha!

I went with Caitlin and we were going to go dancing at this Mod Club place. I was wearing a cute outfit with these stay-up stockings. One of them kept creeping down my leg. It was the first time I had worn them out.

Then while tugging at it in line, the fucker ripped. It was -2 and seriously, these things were actually blocking the chill. I'm a Canadian and us Canadians see -2 in the winter as a warm day, but not so warm as to have bare-bare legs to the elements.

So while we made our way to a bar with no huge line, I clutched the top of the ripped stocking in a failing effort to keep it up until we were safely inside a bar so I could roll them both down and turn them in to socks.

I hate tights, I always have. I thought these would be great because of the no-waist-clutching thing. Ugh. Nope!

But we really had a great time. Caitlin saw this guy she met awhile back and had a friendly hug and I got to get wasted, something I rarely do but maybe once a month.

I gave Ross a call when I got home; he always seems to appreciate drunken phone calls/e-mails. Personally, I'm not the biggest fan of them, though I've never seen Ross drunk so I think I'd like the have one drunk call.

But le sigh. I have to do laundry today, while the pile is still manageable. Boo... I have a few things on my wishlist for the next place I live, though it's in over a year's time: 1. visitors parking 2. an elevator 3. closets 4. laundry facilities.

But on that note... I have to go do my freakin' laundry.

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