No Bosses, No Boyfriends

How is it that sweet, sweet summertime paired with sweet, sweet unemployment leads to ANYTHING but goal attainment/productivity/creative expression? I missed community ballet class, my collective meeting, and Maddie Ruthless’ set at the Saint last night so I could indulge in the seasonal alcoholic hedonism known as Tales of the Cocktail at the Hotel Monteleone.

It wasn’t my intention. I was simply PMSing and in need of a dip in the Monteleone’s rooftop pool. Upon our arrival and at the realization that the booze conference had just serendipitously begun, I was overcome with joy. Sophie, more sober in mind and spirit, was immediately repulsed by the scene there. It took me a minute. Years past, Tales of the Cocktail was an opportunity to get top shelf drunk and nibble on canapes for the FREE. Therefore, every drunk punk you knew in New Orleans was there rubbing elbows with alcohol distributors and Yankee mixologists. But, this year they were all conspicuously absent.

THEY’RE CHARGING NOW. FTW.

Everything about it just seemed grosser than usual. Sure, we got drunk but, we were lonely, too. The pool was a nightmare. Some horrible, older Aussie decided it was a really cool idea to slap my besequinned bottom without my expressed consent. I shouted “Welcome to America!” while proceeding to give him a bloody nose in front of his buddies. I pissed all over myself in the hallway where we found some unattended club sandwiches. Hungover by sunset.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, sorry for not posting for a bit. Since we missed last Friday, here are two 90′s throwbacks for your weekend amusement, comrades. Hope you’re surviving your summer better than I.

(Probably the most arousing music video I had ever seen in the third grade.)

(And, my first concert! Sixth grade! Natalie Lawson and I sung every word, SEVERELY pissing off the mother and daughter seated in front of us. When they asked us to pipe down, we sung twice as loud. Fuck you!)

Tags: anarcha, fighting, flashback fridays!