Thursday, September 07, 2006

ThePeach and TheCrazy Make Sangria!

Last Sunday of the long weekend was a real winner. The next day was one of those horrifying days where I contemplate giving up drinking for good, but thank god that mood passed with the aid of multiple extra-strength Advil and copious amounts of water. I’m silly when I’m hungover, and I think crazy thoughts.

So, my Sunday was looking to be pretty…sad and reclusive. FauxHawk was working nights, TheHippie was visiting the folks, TheNurse had moved away (*sniffle*) and…well, that’s all of my friends. All of my friends who live in UniversityTown – not all of my friends in general, you assholes. Anyway, I had just settled in for a night of “sad and lonely” mixed with “neurotic and cat-lady”. I had wrapped my entire futon in plastic-wrap so that I could sit on it and so that maybe the kitten would stop pissing on it (this actually worked for 3 gloriously urine-free days. This morning I got back from FauxHawk’s to find a puddle of stank-piss floating in the folds of the plastic. I blame FauxHawk entirely for Milo’s return to incontinence, as Milo probably wouldn’t have pissed the platic-wrapped futon if I had stayed home or we had slept at my place like I had wanted. FauxHawk doesn’t like to sleep at my apartment during the week since he has to be up earlier than I do. I don’t like walking home every morning looking and feeling like yesterday’s whore, but I guess he gets to pull the “I work hard” sympathy card. Despite that, it is still his fault. Entirely).

Where was I?

Right, I had (supposedly) piss-proofed the futon. I put on my polka-dot pajamas and ordered in some take-out Sushi. Maki, Kuso Yarou !! You should note that the sushi-joint is 3 blocks from where I live. I couldn’t be expected to go there in my pjs. I am a lazy slut. The food arrived, and I settled on my plastic, smelly futon and popped “Romeo and Juliet” into my dvd player (aka, laptop). For the next couple of hours, the following occurred:

1. Could not get a grip on the futon due to the fact that I had shrink-wrapped it. Kept sliding around in my polka-dot pjs. Finally found a solution by taking off socks and gripping to the futon with my toes. It worked. My banger-sized toes have finally been useful!
2. Marveled at the under-stated beauty of Claire Danes. Marveled at the over-stated beauty of Leo. Felt dirty for being attracted to a boy who looks 11 years old. Felt dirty for being attracted to a woman. Good-dirty.
3. Cried at the precious, innocent love blossoming between R&J. Cried at the heart-break they both endured. Laughed out loud at Claire Dane’s man-sobs when she wakes up to find her lover dead. I ruin all potential meaningful moments. But shit, that chick sure cried the ugly-cry.
4. Ate beautiful sushi. With chopsticks. Felt cultured. Dropped rice in lap multiple times.

Then, at around 9pm:

Phone: *ring!*
Milo: *attack!*
ThePeach: Hello?
TheCrazy: Peach! Are you doing anything tonight?
ThePeach: *looks down at pjs, lap full of rice*…kind of.
TheCrazy: We’re having people over. Wanna come make Sangria?
ThePeach: Are you using your home-made wine? The wine that tastes like the inside of an asshole?
TheCrazy: Yes! And orange juice!
ThePeach: Hmmm…
TheCrazy: Awww are you staying in and cuddling with your little puddy-tat? He’s so cute!
Milo: *ATTACK!!!*
ThePeach: I’ll be over in 10 minutes.

And I was. I put on jeans and lip-gloss so that I would look respectable. I walked into TheCrazy’s apartment, where a sea of attractive and brilliant doctors greeted me. Jesus Christ, it was going to be one of THOSE nights.

A Peach Definition: One of THOSE nights.

- A term. An expression.
- Meaning to feel inadequate and fuggly. To feel as if one’s life is being wasted. To feel fat.
- Usually due to the socialization with various Doctors/Surgeons/Specialists who are older, more mature, more successful, and just plain better than you. These people own houses, have RRSPs, and take vacations.
- Especially bad if Doctors/Surgeons/Specialists are funny, hot, and nice people. This will lead you to question your own worth as a sarcastic and bitter being that relies on dry humor to make friends. Dry humor and boozing.
- Always leads to the consumption of too much alcohol and, consequently, making an ass of oneself in front of the beautiful doctors. Thus the effect is cyclical and self-fullfilling.

I immediately got TheCastrato to pour me “ANYTHING WITH LOTS OF VODKA, BITCH!” and sucked it back with the desperation of a baby on the bottle. I surveyed the scene and formulated my plan to make the night amazing.

ThePeach’s Plan to Cope with One of THOSE Nights: Get everyone drunk. Drunker than self. Or at least as drunk. Then sit back and relax.

I poured TheCastrato a roofie-colada (“Drink it. It’s good.”) and told TheCrazy and CockDoc to chug, motherfuckers! People listen to me. I don’t know why. I’m one of those kids that parents warn their children about in after-school specials (“Don’t succumb to peer pressure, Bobby.” “But, ThePeach told me to drink until I fell over!” “I don’t like you hanging out with ThePeach. She’s a bad seed”.) We did some shots. I started relaxing.

And then…

TheCrazy: Oh hey, Peach – have you met GyneDoc? Hey, HEY GYNEDOC!!?? HAVE YOU MET PEACH??!!! SHE’S FAUXHAWK’S GIRLFRIEND!!
GyneDoc:…Nice to meet you.
ThePeach: Oh god…oh god no…oh sweet lord jesus of Bethlehem, no.

*flashback*

GyneDoc: Now, if you’ll just spread your legs a little further apart, I’ll have better access to your cervix.
ThePeach: I’ll try.
GyneDoc: Just relax…now you’re going to feel my fingers entering your vagina and examining your pelvic-region.
ThePeach: *sweats*
GyneDoc: Now you’re going to feel a little pinch while I swipe your cervix with this swab.
ThePeach’s Cervix: BACK OFF, BITCH!!! YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!!
ThePeach: Ow.

*back to the present*

GyneDoc: I’m so SHMAMMERED!!! YA!
ThePeach: *whimper*
GyneDoc: Have we met before? Your face looks familiar.
ThePeach’s Cervix: SWAB THIS, BITCH!!!
ThePeach: Ow.

Ah yes, the joys of dating a gynecologist. The joys of dating a gynecologist and being friends with his friends. The joys of dating a gynecologist and being friends with his friends in a small, shitty city like UniversityTown. In case anyone enjoys irony, here is an excerpt from a post I wrote in January titled “Med School is SO Hard”:

Here is why dating a med student isn’t as glamorous or exciting as we’d been led to believe:
1. Getting kicked out of bed at 6am every day in the dead of winter.
2. Sex in the call rooms? Doesn’t happen. Masturbation? Perhaps, but I wouldn’t know. Or want to.
3. If you dress up in a nurse’s uniform to try to be sexy in the bedroom, all that happens is you get yelled at a whole lot, they forget your name, blame you for someone’s death, and then buy you a donut to stop your crying.
4. That girl you just got introduced to at a party? She did your pap smear last week. And she remembers.
5. That hot girl eyeing your boyfriend at the party? He did her pap smear last week. And he remembers.

Apparently I can read the future. God help us all.

So anyway, after running into someone who has seen the inside of my vag (which you’d think I’d be used to after my years of trampaging), I immediately consumed much more vodka. I was officially drunk. And, since TheCrazy was bouncing off the furniture, CockDoc was in his happy place, and TheCastrato was singing in falsetto and playing air guitar – my plan had worked. Brilliant.

Time for Sangria.

Somehow I delegated it as my job to cut up fruit to make the drinks festive. I should never be allowed to wield a knife in general, but when I’m sauced? Terrifying. I can’t believe I still have all my fingers. But I managed to slice up oranges like a pro, and luckily TheCrazy stopped me before I added some “peaches” to the mix (“Um, Peach? Those are tomatoes.” “Shit.”).

The Sangria was strong and fruity and a real hit. It hardly tasted like anus at all. I made GyneDoc drink glass after glass, because I am a peer-pressuring sonofabitch. And then…

GyneDoc: WOOO SANGRIA!!
ThePeach: Ya, drink that down, bitch! Oh, and *cough* you’ve seen my vagina….Dr. GyneDoc.
GyneDoc: WOOO-what??
ThePeach: Ya…in the clinic. I just wanted to let you know that this is why I’m so socially awkward in front of you. And why I’m making you get loaded before I talk to you.
GyneDoc: Oh…god…sorry. I don’t remember…what “it” looked like, if that makes you feel any better.
ThePeach: Slightly.
GyneDoc: And the doctor you saw after me was a TOTAL DYKE!!!
ThePeach’s Cervix: I KNEW IT!!!
ThePeach: LET’S SMOKE DRUGS!!! NOW!!!

Again, people listen to me. TheCrazy took some pot straight from Jamaica out of the freezer. We didn’t have any papers, so we smoked it out of her father’s pipe. Seriously. And this pot was WHACK. We were all fucked. And amazing. Amazing. Things were pretty blurry from here on. I think I dirty danced with TheCrazy in the kitchen. I know TheCrazy tackled CockDoc and bit him until she chipped a tooth. I am positive that CockDoc whispered to me “your sister is a good lay”, because I woke up in the morning with blood in my ears. I know that TheCrazy dragged us out of the apartment to go to the bar, because I had the “Noids something fierce.

We decided we wanted to touch some whores. So we set out for the strip club. But, before you get all excited – we decided halfway there that the 3 blocks we had to walk there was an ETERNITY, so we looped arms and dragged ourselves back to the local bar a block away. Inside the bar, my soul was being raped by the people and noise. Everyone in there knew I was high and WAS JUDGING ME. Oh god, I was about to become the troll of the coats again. I huddled in the corner with CockDoc and TheCrazy and whimpered. I drank more. It didn’t help. Finally CockDoc walked me home and I would be able to put my Noids to bed.

Or so I thought…

ThePeach: *opens door to apartment*
Milo: SUCKA!!! *runs up all 4 flights of stairs in the apartment building*
ThePeach: *sob* HE’S RUNNING AWAY BECAUSE HE KNOWS I’M HIGH AND IS JUDGING ME!!!

I finally gathered my little hellion and was safely locked inside my apartment. I slept.

The next morning I once again woke up feeling like something I once pulled out of a clogged drain. And once again I decided to go to the gym to sweat it all out.

I almost died. Why do I do this to myself??

Oh right, because I have an alcohol problem.

ThePeach

8 comments:

asian cymbals said...

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAAAAAA!!!!

Oh god, you gotta do that more often. That was hella wicked.

Also, I hate pap smears. And plastic speculums.

Horny Old Guy said...

VERRRRRRRY INTERESTING...funny too! I stumbled on this blog searching for something or another but enjoyed what I read! Keep it up!

The Peach said...

I also enjoyed your blog, horny old guy. You keep it up, as well! And keep writing, too.

hahaha I'm so witty.

theHubby said...

THIS is why I miss you...and why I have more respect for you than I have for myself! Can't wait to be back in Universitytown.....less than 2 days!

kim :0) said...

i have some future blog requests for thepeach... i think everyone would benefit from your version of thehippie's 'after party' story starring unclekracker and sven or whatever his name was... also im looking forward to recounts of this weekend's hoco festivities as nothing beats pancake keggers and the like... keep up the great work!

thehippie said...

hoco means homecoming in kimlanguage. that took me 30 min to figure out. i thought i'd share with you all to save you the mental energy it took me.

TheNurseinNZ said...

could you please post something. I need to know what's going on. I know that I left you and everything but I never get to talk to you online. this is all I have of you!!!

Anonymous said...

Random Blog Creeper


I just thought i'd let you know that you are by far, the most interesting writer I have ever come accross. I cant even figure out how i ended up on your page. Fist im googling random shit at work and next im reading about vom and cats. Cudos to you. I laughed so hard at your posts, coffee came out my nose.