Saturday, January 22, 2011

Notes to Self

Eating at the bar in a hotel -- especially a nice hotel -- is freaking expensive.  Even if you did forego having breakfast at the hotel this morning in favor of Starbucks.

Being in a pissy mood is no reason to go out and buy not one but two books on crime, especially on murder.  And spending parts of today reading about serial killers.  You do want to be able to sleep tonight, right?

I am a very cheap drunk.  I had two (expensive -- if I had known they were going to be that much I would have ordered the house specialty drinks which were cheaper) Apple Martinis, on the grounds that I am going to the National Gallery tomorrow. (Don't worry, that last sentence makes sense, sort of, in context.) I did not have a third, and although a large part of my brain is screaming for me to call down for room service to bring me up an Irish coffee, the small portion of my brain which is in fact not inebriated at this moment is overruling it.  I desperately need to have more chocolate, however, and may go out in search of some, although, given the aforementioned inebriation, that might not be such a good idea.

I am writing.  This, under the circumstances is somewhat amazing.  I have to remember not to blog anything I would find embarrassing in the morning, however.  Of course, I may find this whole post embarrassing.

Damn, that was good onion soup.  The jazz trio was very nice too, as was sitting right in front of the fire and eating good onion soup and drinking Apple Martinis and reading Criminal Minds: Sociopaths, Serial Killers & Other Deviants.  I now know who Edmund Kemper is.  Oh, boy.

I wish Mythbusters was on. I feel like watching a good explosion.  Also, Tory Belecci is a seriously cute geek.  Of course, as far as I am concerned, most geeks are seriously cute.  I have a penchant for geeks.  As my Facebook interests say, "Smart People Turn Me On."

I am trying to figure out what sort of trouble I could get into right now.  I feel like trouble.  Probably better just to go to bed with a good book. About serial killers.

'Night all.

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