I'm Glad You're Home but I Wish You Were You

I don't go out anymore. It's kind of strange, since one of the primary reasons I moved to New York was to drink and dance and party. I kind of feel like I've grown out of it--it's not that fun, I feel like shit afterward, and I can't get anything done the next day. Plus, you know, I'm Old and practically married and living in Brooklyn.

But on Saturday I was bored. And pumped from a good workout at the gym. And alone all day since Matt went out with some friends. So I decided to end my 8 month self-imposed going-out hiatus and headed to my friend Amete's.

Vodka! The problem with making your own drinks is that you start thinking "it's free to drink here--I should have strong drinks so I don't need to drink at the bar." Ah, logic, you are a bitchy friend. We drank. We drank a lot. More and more people came over--at one point there were a dozen people in Amete's 450 square foot apt drinking, listening to music, and playing video games. At around midnight, we all headed downtown to some new club.

New club! Amete got us in for free! Music! Lights! Dancing! Oh God--so many lights. So much standing. And the music--so hard to hear anything or move at all or really do anything and all I wanted to do was sit down. I remember the cab ride home. I remember waking up at 8:22am. Matt filled me in on the rest.

"Hi Sweetie," I said as he oped his eyes.

"Mmmmmm."

"I don't feel terrible. Huh. I wish I wasn't up so early."

"How are you awake and not completely hungover?"

"I don't know."

"You were pretty out of it last night. I don't think I've ever seen you like that. Do you remember what happened?"

"Uh, no....What are you talking about?"

"You were wasted when you got home. You kept telling me that you hated me."

"What?"

"Yeah. And when I tried to get you to brush your teeth and take out your contacts, you just laughed at me."

"For real?"

"And you wouldn't let me take off your clothes--you just kept being surly and telling me you hated me."

"Oh, Sweetie!" I laughed. "I'm so sorry! I don't hate you--why would I say that?"

"I don't know. It was weird. You were completely incomprehensible."

"Like purple rainbow lobster?"

"Yeah. At one point, I told you that 'I'm glad you're home, but I wish you were you.' "