There’d be so much pee

Feeling better about my recent drunken behaviour. I was becoming convinced that I couldn’t be trusted to get intoxicated around my friends without either unleashing a stream of criticism and getting my hate on, or having a lot of awkward ideas about kissing everyone I meet.

(Emily reports that when people asked what the prize was for the surreal game of pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey we played around 2am on New Year’s Eve, I announced that the winner could make out with me. “But then what will I get if I win?” Anya rightly substituted a gift bag containing a potato and a can of Lucky Lager as the top prize.)

Lately I’ve been frequently creeped out by my friends’ sexualities. I think I just had it easy when all my friends were practically married, and now that there are a bunch of daters there’s a lot more exploitation for attention, and a lot more of that infatuation stage where people pretend every coincidence is evidence of the superiority of their romance. (HARD ASS.)

But it struck me last night that my friends might be getting similarly creeped out by the way I’ve gotten half naked or orchestrated group urination at almost every party in the last year. None of that is about repressed sexuality— to me it’s more just losing any quality control on my ‘good ideas’— but I was suddenly worried it looked like I was having the seven year itch or something. Awesome. Getting drunk, being a jerk and acting like a desperate housewife! That’s quite a party identity.

Galen says he sees it as my usual “everything should be allowed” fantasies getting out of hand, and it was really reassuring that somebody understood at least. His interpretation of my motivation for the “we should all pee at the same time” incident was:

“There’d be so much pee!”