Should be missing you now

Whoa…Karaoke.

Seriously.

I had the supreme pleasure of going to a K bar with some of my closest colleagues. I popped a bottle of champagne like Schumacher does! Wheee!

This is my second time singing Karaoke, and the first time in a real K bar. It was fucking awesome. I was singing so hard my guts started hurting, yes I’m sure no real singer would tell you that. Right after “We are the champions” my crony goes
“Wow man, that was fuckin aweful”
“Come on man, I can really sing man!”
(Yeah I do the “man” thing very often when I’m drinking”)
The Japanese invented this stuff and truly, people, they kick way toooo much ass at this. Everytime the Japanese girls did some crazy pop number with a “oh baby baby dance dance all night” or the men soulfully did lovesongs, the whole bunch of us would feel ten centimetres high.

I’m kinda shocked myself, at the way my drinking capacity is making it very expensive for me to have fun. Here’s the thing, during these two days of training, I had very little food. Because I’m vegetarian. Friday night, I didn’t get any dinner. Nothing was arranged.

Now, we of the party-all-night fraternity know that it is a bad move to drink on a empty stomach. But I did. I mixed drinks. The men make em stiff cocktails- so much so that bourbon and coke looked golden for wont of coke. I musta had 8? 10? And no puking, no scene, no proclamations about being lesbian, no… oh no wait.

Anywho, as such, the group made plans for Saturday night, that flopped like…well something else that flops badly. The girls turned up in clubbing attire, the boys were snappily dressed. We went for very-sucky-and-very-expensive Indian food. Moodkiller1.

Went to Long Bar. First time for me. And what’s this? fucking peanuts everywhere! Apparently, its tradition to eat peanuts and throw the skin anywhere. It was filthy and pretentious. Elephant paradise- not exactly my scene. Moodkiller 2.

Head to insomnia. Damn band repeats their damned songs. I’m gyrating like a bobblehead and everyone else is bored. Everyone else wants to go home at 12. Moodkiller 3. You’re out!

I guess the thought of never seeing some of them ever again, touched something deep inside. I was so sad. I could only do so much not to cry. And I don’t like to make myself vulnerable to that….especially not after openly scorning cutesy couples dancing a little too well.

So bah! we all went to bed. I’ll miss this.