I have a drinking problem. . .cheers!

The week before my shots for the Russians I kept getting signs from people that they think I drink too much. . .well by signs I mean facebook messages and emails.  But, keep in mind it was summer and I was working two days a week, so what was I meant to do to fill my days?!  I maintain that I have no problem, with the exception of my frequent blackouts, but what you don’t remember can’t hurt you, right?  I sure as hell wasn’t going to take a break from drinking before summer was over, and more importantly before I took six shots for my Russian readers.  Before I get into what happened after the shots, I want to share the concerned words that were sent to me.

This first one is from the Aussie I am in love with, after I drunkenly texted him a sappy, needy message the previous weekend.  I did delete his number the next day to keep it from happening again and facebook messaged him to apologize and tell him I deleted his number.  So, here is part of his response:

Hey there! How's things? No dramas about the message, we all send things we shouldn't when we get drunk.

I'm sorry to hear you're not acting right, I've been there before and for me it was just way too much booze and boredom. It was definitely one of the main reasons I got back into running a few years ago. But getting off the booze for 3 months and just training at one point that made me realise how much it was playing with my head. At the end of the day you don't normally see people who are healthy and running a lot being self-destructive in their private lives. 

Don't get me wrong, I'll still go on a bender with the best of them, but 3-7 nights a week, week in, week out just isn't good for me. I hope this doesn't sound like a lecture because it's not, but like I said I've been there before and that’s what worked for me.

Then, later that week I got this in an email from my mom:

I don't mind you enjoying a few drinks with friends and having fun; but I don't think you need to get so drunk that you do crazy things or can't stand up!  That just seems irresponsible, unladylike and un-teacher-like, too!  And, I believe you are getting too old to act like that!  What do you think???  I just worry about what COULD happen to you in a foreign country!  At least you aren't driving & drinking - that's GOOD!  I know you Kelly, you are FUN & CRAZY even when you aren't drinking!!!  hahah!!!!

So, after my six shots (in my new apartment with Becks!!!) whatever was on the forefront of my mind. . .namely that people seem to think I have a drinking problem. . .just spills out of me and is kind of all I can talk about, in detail, to everyone I see, including strangers.  So, I end up meeting this guy who grew up in HK but now lives in New Zealand and he’s back visiting for a few days, and proceed to tell him all about my mom’s email, and that I have a drinking problem, cheers.  I sure know how to make a first impression.  Now that I’m sober I do maintain that I do not have a problem, unless having fun counts as a problem!!!

one Russian reader

two Russian readers

three Russian readers

four Russian readers

Becks joined in for 5 and 6 Russian readers, we took a video, but then I took my camera swimming and I think the videos got ruined :(

So, during my lunch hour yesterday, my friend Selina and I saw some Abercrombie models standing on the street promoting a new store opening.  Selina dared me to ask for a picture with them, and I of course could not resist.  For some reason, in my brain, where I keep my thoughts, I seemed to think this 15 year old model was a genie and asked him three questions...here is what ensued

Me:  Will you run your hands through my hair?

Me:  Will you grind on me?

Me:  Can I pour water on you?

Full disclosure:  We actually ended up sleeping in a vendor tent that we had to crawl into through a back flap, but luckily there were some mini-trampolines to use as beds and lots of t-shirts we used as blankets.

to my russian readers

I consistently have 5 hits from russia each week, so to further encourage there readership, I will do a shot of vodka for each hit from russia i have for the week next saturday before i go out.  ok russia, my fate is in your hands. . .don't disappoint!!!

~UPDATE~so last saturday ended being a night in. . .so the shots for russia have been postponed until this saturday, but it's probably for the best seeing as i only had three hits from russia last week.  WTF, russia, lock it down and log on!!  i'll do shots for last week and this week to make up for my delay.

Tsunami Night

So, there was a T10 tsunami warning.  This is the highest a tsunami warning can be.  Did Becks and I hunker down and wait out the storm. . .well sort of, in our own way, which meant we first had to run to the shop and buy lots of booze.  I was super excited to see my old friend Andre there, the cheapest shittiest fake champagne cheap enough that I drank it when I went to uni, and to round out our poor-as-fuck booze purchases we also grabbed some Boone's Farm.  We headed back home and were drinking and playing cards while dinner was cooking.  As usual, when Andre comes home with me, things got out of control quickly.  Fast forward 20 minutes and dinner was burnt, there was champagne spilled all over the carpet and we were off to the shop for round two, because how silly of us to think 4 bottles in addition to the mixie canned drinks we had drank prior to popping bottles would be enough.  Again, there was a tsunami, so we were wearing hoodies with the hoods up carrying cheep liquor bottles and looking like a couple of rough chavs (the British equivalent of trailer trash) to me this means one thing:  photo op.

The night goes on like this and we decide to make a list of celebs we want to fuck.  Both lists are pictured.  I have no idea how Kim Jong Un made my top three, but the next day we found out he is married, fucking typical.

*This is a cartoon dramatization, events are depicted as retold to me the next morning by the 6'4'' New Zealand pilot I went home with.  I did step in my own puddle of urine the next morning while gathering my clothes.