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T h e A d v e n t u r e s o f C h i c a g o J o

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I Dis Oz Because I�m a Drunkard

2003-06-30� � 4:38 p.m.
Check out the previous entry:

Drinking My Friday Away


I bummed around for much of Saturday, cleaning the house a bit and fretting over what to wear to meet Oz that night at his choir party.

What does one wear when she knows that it�s her clothes and not her breasts that are going to be judged? Kidding, kidding. But �crazy and sexy� aren�t exactly in my wardrobe. After several outfit changes, I decided that regular ol� Chicago Jo clothes were gonna have to cut it. I had on my skantacular pants, a pink baby-T, and my ass-kicking boots.

I hopped the el to West Loop for a friend�s house warming party, and that�s where it happened.

Some nights, such as the previous one, I can reach double-digits in the drink consumption and mix all sorts of liquor types. Then there are nights where I have two beers and become a blubbering fool.

Saturday night was one of those nights. And blubber I did.

At the housewarming party, I ended up with a few screwdrivers. I was feeling good. It was the usual way to start off the night. And then it happened. I can�t define it, but it is a bitch. And if I haven�t mentioned it before, I don�t like her.

Something somewhere deep inside, yours truly processed those few drinks as if I had downed the entire bottle myself. It was sloppy. I was tacky. I was everything that Chicago Jo doesn�t usually embody, and I was tethered to Sara for the rest of the night knowing that she was my ticket home.

I ended up somewhere. I was stuck. I waited to go home, clinging my water bottle as if some teenaged hoodlum was going to come by to steal it. I sat my happy self on the barstool and cried a sad tear that I was unintentionally standing up Oz.

Dear Oz,

May this be my solemn vow that if I were given the opportunity to meet you again, I will remain sober the entire night. I will only begin drinking with you, even if I would ruin your game and wear jeans to your get-together. I promise to be fun, and I will even acquire some hottie-bo-bottie clothes by then.

Are you mad at me?

[ ] Yes, you bitchtard ----- [ ] No, I forgive you

Love,
ChicagoJo

I finally made it home, and it had been daylight for two hours at that point. My still-drunk and paranoid ass went to sleep, knowing that I�d have to be up and at �em the next day for Pride Fest. �



Miss something?

Moving Day - 2008-02-15
Working from Home is Glorious - 2008-02-13
Speaking in Tongues - 2008-02-07
I Have My Reasons - 2008-01-25
Got an Itch, Fix it, Shine it Up, Sing it Out - 2008-01-23

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