Hamptons 3 - Me 0.

This year's Hamptons trip was supposed to be a relaxing weekend full of cocktails and convos...and, for the most part, 'twas.

BUT, when it comes to me and the east end of LI, there will always be a very big BUT. So OK! magazine had Jessica Simpson on part of its cover last week. Apparently she went out with Ken Paves and got a little drunky and the photos were hilarious. She also cried.

Upon seeing this, I jokingly said "That sounds like Saturday." Now, I've on occasion had my clarvoyent moments, but really, this one could have predicted itself. Yes, I cried at the Drift. I wasn't really sad, nor were there any valid reasons for the tears but they would. not. stop. coming. out. of. my. eyes.

So when said crying started, I did what I do best, found a corner and hid until said crying epi passed over. DM (who is now DF cuz she got hitched) pulled out the best bandage ever to help me through. It was a magical elixir that made all of the wet drops go away. Oh yes, it was vodka and it was delish.

Anywho, it was the first time in a long time that I have gotten beer tears and lets hope its a while before they come back. Because when they start, my friends, they won't finish until they have left all of my dignity in a puddle on the floor.

And just a note: when you try and battle the Drift, the Drift will ALWAYS win.

Yea, yea. I know.

It's been forever since I posted. Sorry kiddos, been busy and journeyed off to Costa Rica with a friend for a week. It was interesting to say the least.

I figured my July 4th was a little more interesting and in light of Michael Jackson's demise, I will share this moment of Jonesy goodness with you.

So I went to a party at my friend LB's apartment. She lives in a SICK apartment with tons of space and a roof deck for fireworks viewing. Anywho, I decided that it would be smart to drink an entire bottle (ok, I admit, it was in a box) of sangria before 10 pm. Whoops.

So the party was fun and it got all fuzzy and stuff and my signature 4-drink slur came out, which is again, whoops.

I journeyed home and happened upon my new neighbors who moved in down the hall. They are lovely gay men who invited me and the roomies to a housewarming (which I didn't attend). They must have threatened me with a good time, because the next thing you know, I was partying down at Therapy, which is probably the most fun gay bar ever.

And besides, don't threaten me with a good time because I'll go crazy on you like that chick from Rock of Love.

And did I. Yes I did. Oh how I danced. As if angels were shooting from my jazz hands and my feet were made of jumping beans, I boogied my way around the dance floor to lord only knows what. Okay fine, I was skip jumping to "Ease on Down the Road" as if I were Diana Ross and a young, alive Michael Jackson rolled into one twenty-something wasted off sangria white chick.

Now, I left with the neighbors and came home, and they went back out (I did not). Although I did drink more wine from a box.

And that my friends, is how I celebrated the birth of our nation. God Bless the U.S.A.

March Effing Madness

BLARUGHGYIHSKJ. That's how my body feels after the severe abuse it has been taking this month. Why does March always drive me to 1) Drink insane amounts of booze and 2) Eat really bad-for-you food?

Well, I think it's partially because St. Patrick's Day has gone from being an Irish Day that happens once every mid-March to a month long drinking marathon with stops in Hoboken, Manhattan, and Westchester (although I sat this one out this year) along the way. I think this is great and all but the older you get, the less you can hang, which kind of becomes evident as the younger kids rage through the night, and I start throwing elbows at the pizza counter at 9 pm to get some carbs in mah belly.

Also, between New Years and March 1, everybody hides. People only go out in their neighborhoods or short car rides away because going out with a coat in general is just fucking annoying, let alone layering up with a thick sweater that you just end up stripping off when you get hammered. Fuck winter...spring = warm weather = booze which is < boozing outside.

Plus, after the holidays and spending money on winter vacays, people are poor, so everybody I know starts bartending in March. Which kills me because the folks I know make drinks like moonshine. Hence, I end up falling out of my elevator onto my hallway floor. I woke up the next day as looked like, as Mrs. Krabbypatty put it so eloquently, someone "Chris Browned" me. Too soon? Nah.

Then you have your NCAA tournament drinking which really, is just an excuse to get bombed during the week. Last year, I went out to an E. Village bar and ended up getting hammered while trying to pick up guys during a Duke game. Turns out they don;t really like to talk when the game is on. Whoops! This year, I created a bracket based on the names of the schools, and I'm hoping that I can strike a bond at the bar this way. Anyone know the closest Oklahoma-centric bar? (I picked them to win by accident).

Lastly, the end of this month marks the very death of my poor, innocent liver. Since DM is getting married next month, a bunch of us gals are heading to Newport, RI, for her bachelorette party. While this might seem normal to most, let me explain. After DM's shower a bunch of us went out and stayed out. Until 4 AM. People asked us if we were the bachelorette party. Kids, you ain't seen nothing yet. I wouldn't be surprised if someone ends up A) Seriously injured B) Pregnant or C) coming face to face with the entirety of their stomach contents. Let's hope none of those are me!!

Overall, March is month of drinking and being a degenerate. Which is what I seem to do best. I mean, c'mon, it may hurt, but it hurts sooooooo good.

Errr...

You know you've had an intersting night out when you get a text like this:

Hey, its avi the israely guy that talk to you last night. How you doing today?

And no the typos aren't mine.

Let's finish this bitch!

I don't think anyone is celebrating the end of 2008 more than I am. This year, I lost my job, dog (RIP Lord G), love life and most of my optimism. I'm ready for a change.

So tonight, Carly (you remember her) is forcing me to go to Brooklyn (which is huge because I NEVER go to the BK because I mostly hate it there)to some burlesque party (aka the night of titty tassles). I won't be performing but I will be getting obscenely drunk to celebrate the demise of the worst year ever.

I'm sure I'll do something rediculously stupid or awkward if it's a good night.

I wish you all a safe and drunk New Year. Have one for Jonesy!

'Tis the season...

The Chirstmas season is here so that means I have my partypants on and I'm ready to rumble. With some sort of event every other day this week my liver may have to start phoning it in while I drink water.

This past Saturday was Merry Thanksgivingmas. As prrof of my age and level of responsibility, I sent myself home right around the time I started browning out (meaning I vaguely remember some of the stuff, not a full visit to the BOC). But I was kissing random boys on the cheek, which I'm sure, scared them senseless. Yet again, the boozing scares boys.

In other news, I HAVE A NEW PHONE. For the past year I've been plagues with problems because I had a crappy Motorola RAZR. I've now upgraded to the BlackBerry Storm, since iPhones are so 2007.

So Seasons Greetings kiddos. Have a pint for your dear Jonesy when you are out and fellas, if you;re lucky, that girl smooching you on the cheek just might be me!

My liver is starting to train tomorrow.

Just realized the 2009 NYC marathon will be the day after Halloween. It's the perfect storm of partying. Yay! Crap.

I'm not trying to be sensitive...

but you would think they would at least wait until all the recently laid off employees finished up their assignments and left the building before putting new name tags up...

Thus ends my magazine career...for now. In other news, I've become a recent alcoholic due to the whole I'm freelancing so I can go to work looking like a hot mess idea...oops.

Great Moments in IM Coversations:

Q is meeting someone who has a job in journalism (unlike us since we both got canned like Spam) for a beer (yes, I edited the convo):


me: get him to get you a job
show him your boobs

Q: hahaha

Q: im serious
tell him he tweak a nip when you get a job

Q: HAHAHAHAHA
you're bad

Q: ugh what should i wear

me: tassles

Q: party pasties

me: not party
but like maybe you have preppy pasties?
posh pasties?

Q: lily pulitzer ones

me: WORD

Q: pulitzer pasties

me: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Booze bags are not sexy

Just remembered that I was drinking straight from a huge bottle of Magner's Cider on Saturday night. I think that totally negates my awesome blowout and adorable outfit. I think I scared boys.

Oh. Dear. God.

I just found out I am landing in Chicago during the middle of their St. Patrick's Day parade. My hotel is a few blocks from the route. HELP ME!

The drunkest guy in all of Hoboken yesterday

Sorry it's sideways.

In case you didn't know...

I'm attempting this thing called "dating." Apparently people go out in public and get to know each other before going home and sexing. Sometimes you get free drinks and dinner! And you don't get shitfaced and forget what happened! WHO KNEW?



Yet another sign of the apocolypse. Start repenting people....

Blarghity blah...

This weekend went by wayyyy to fast. I pray this week flies by. Work, work, work...does it ever end?

In other news, I saw Kathy Griffin at the WaMu Theater at MSG on Saturday. If you ever get the chance to see her ...go!!! She's hysterical.

Anyway, I am in serious need of some drunk this weekend...

Help me....

I've been in Vegas for three days now. I want to come home!!! DM just left me and now I have to go to two days of meetings out here...HELP! This city is depraved and scary. I feel like I'm a CSI victim waiting to happen.

PS I have seen hell and it is "Old" Vegas. The one drink I had there has almost killed me and I seriously need to consider full time sobriety.

OH! BTW...

To all of those who care...the date went well. It was an actual grown up date. He's really cute. I didn't get bombed. The conversation was pleasant and hardly forced. We had a few cocktails and called it a night. He didn't attempt to maul me in the cab ride nor did he even presume that we would be hanging out really late. I think we'll probably go out again.


And, no, I didn't put out (which apparently, you aren't supposed to do...who knew?). We didn't even make out. And he still called...I guess he's this mystical creature I've heard of thought to be extinct...a how do you say..."Nice Guy?"

Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow...

Yesterday was DM's birthday. Yesterday, DM got engaged. Yesterday was one of the best days of her life and she deserves it. Yesterday, I got a tetanus shot. It still effing hurts.

Today, Spanish and I went shopping for her husband, Homer. Today, Homer had his first day as a cop in my hometown. Today, I realized that because I live in New York City and take cabs, I have become a God-awful driver and almost crashed into the Cloisters on the Henry Hudson North.

Tomorrow, BFF is having a C-Section. She's pissed she can't deliver naturally. I am excited and nervous for her. Tomorrow, she becomes a mom. Tomorrow, I hope to visit her and her baby girl and then get drunk while decorating my Christmas tree.

I really need to get a more exciting life.

Apparently being a hot mess suits me...

because a guy I met this past drunken Friday has asked me to hang out...stay tuned for deets.

Also, all I remember about this guy is he's got a puffy LeTigre jacket and his name is [redacted]. And according to Q, he has nice eyes and we had a very involved conversation.

And he lives in Long Island.

EFF! DO NOT WANT!

But as Spanish, Mrs. Krabbypatty, DM and BFF tell me, I have to start giving people an actual chance before turning them down.

I drink too much.

Friday night was just one of those rediculous nights of drinking. Starts innocently enough. Q, LB and I were hanging out in LB's new apartment in the W. Village (it's sick!) and we were drinking wine and eating tacos. How things got to the level of drunk that they did I cannot uderstand. But like I said, it was one of those rediculous nights of boozing. The kind where you make BFFS with total strangers and frolic from bar to bar. The kind where you remember the first bar you go to but slowly forget the names of the rest of the establishments you end up finding along the course of the night. The kind where you end up in a Penthouse apartment in Times Square with three guys you don't know and have to make a quick exit. The kind where you can't get out of bed for an entire day. The kid where you think your hangover just may kill you. The kind that on Sunday, two days after the initial drink-fest, your friends call you because they realize that you may have made decisions that night that could have led to death.

We are all still alive. Somehow.

And another one bites the dust...

Congratulations to The Krabbypattys! They were officially married this weekend in a beautiful ceremony which was followed by what may be considered the dance party of the century. I officially claim myself as the winner of the Benetar award for best '80s dancing of the night. They are off in Greece now on their honeymoon and I can't wait for them to get back so we can recap the awesomeness of their festivities.

Some highlights:

1. The pastor saying the words "sexual" and "erotic" during a prayer. Yes, I managed to hold in all laughter.

2. Some of us may have encouraged the flower girl to do the Little Miss Sunshine Dance.

3. Chest bumping with Homer.

4. Spanish's adorable MOH speech (seriously, props for not crying until the end).

5. There were incidents with bobby pins. Lots of them.

6. Walking into a pole when laughing about said bobby pins. I also win the clutsy bridesmaid award.

7. Cocktails...lots of them. I love open bar.

As of Sunday, I am no longer on bridesmaid duty, at least for now. What the hell am I going to do/write about/occupy myself with? Well, considering the fall TV shows are just starting I will have that. But I assume I will also have more free time to make a drunk tard of myself so 'm sure I'll have more good stories to come. Did I mention my bday is jus a few short weeks away??? Party on, Krabbypattys.