QUIT IT.

I KNOW I HAVEN'T UPDATED THIS. STOP JUDGING ME. I'LL DO IT ON SUNDAY BECAUSE I WORK ON SATURDAY AND I'M PRETTY SURE AFTER I WORK ON SATURDAY I'LL WANT TO COME HOME AND DRINK ALCOHOL FROM THE CUPS OF MY HANDS BECAUSE ALL MY GLASSES ARE PACKED AWAY BECAUSE I'M MOVING MYSELF AND THEY'RE BELOW A BUNCH OF OTHER THINGS, NESTLED AWAY TO KEEP THEM SAFE BECAUSE I'M MOVING EVERYTHING MYSELF AND I DON'T WANT ANYTHING TO BREAK.

ugh. I know.

Passing Drinks with a Hangover

1. It's really hard to work at an event that's in honor of alcohol when you're hungover.

Friday night I went out with my boyfriend and his brother and his girlfriend. We went to a bar and I drank more drinks than there were songs on the jukebox. I got home fine, but not after telling everyone that they should wear purple shirts more often. Saturday morning I felt like crap but it was okay because I didn't have to go to work until 7:30pm. So I drank Gatorade and ate Saltine crackers the whole day and watched Nip/Tuck online and relaxed.

I got in the shower at 5:30 and tried alternating the temperature of the water between hot and cold (I read online that Gwyneth Paltrow cures her hangovers by doing something similar, and who doesn't do what Gwyneth Paltrow says these days?). It didn't really work, so I chugged another bottle of lukewarm Gatorade I had in the refrigerator that is currently illegally broken in my apartment because my landlord says he doesn't know who to call to fix it. Anyway, I was feeling okay by the time I arrived at the party spot.

Once I realized it was in celebration of alcohol and mixology drinks, I realized how full of shit Gwyneth Paltrow and her methods are. From this point forward, she will not tell me the proper way to boil eggs, and the only makeshift musical instrument I'm interested in creating is putting a blade of grass in between my thumbs and tooting away. The point is I realized how it was going to be difficult to pass around drinks when my head felt as tight as a showroom full of Lamborghinis.

But I got through it because I just concentrated on one particular guy who was in a perfectly tailored suit, except for the fact that the arms of his blazer didn't cover the cuffs of his shirt. He kept tugging on his sleeves the entire night, and they just kept hanging out and getting caught on things. And it wasn't the blazer's fault -- it was the shirt's fault. It was too excessive. I didn't understand what the shirt was was doing, acting like that! Because Michael Douglas has already been cast as Liberace!

Commencement

For a really long time, I was trying to figure out what I could start a blog about. I think I have been thinking about the endeavor for about six months, and I kept putting it off because not only have I had blogs that I abandoned in the past, but I also write for a living and the idea of coming home after work only to write more didn't sound fun to me. Also, absolutely everyone I know has a blog about something, including mothers who are getting all this attention on morning shows like the "Today" show because they've been blogging about which of their children is their favorite (or has the biggest head), and it really made me feel like blogging had taken a turn for the worst.

But I never abandoned the idea of a blog, and I've finally realized that I'm ready to start one about my second job.

As for why I have a second job: I'm an editor for an entertainment website, and I'm not making as much money there as I'd like to be. I still have financial help from my parents, but I'm not independent. I really wish I was though. So obviously I have a second job out of need, dumbass. I've previously tried to supplement my income by doing other odd jobs like babysitting, and I even tried really hard to get hired as a dog walker, but that was insanely difficult because you must be available between 11AM and 4PM every weekday, which I'm not. I would have loved being a dog walker though. I'm really jealous of the girls who put up a sign in my neighborhood that advertised their dog walking expertise and had all seven of the little squares with their number on them ripped off.

But even though I'm not a dog walker and those two bitches are, they're actually not the only ones with good material.

Let's establish some ground rules.

1. I'm not going to tell you where I work. I'll tell you that I'm a caterer for a large catering company, but that's pretty much all I can say because I think I signed something that says I can't do things like this and talk about the company. So I'll refrain from doing so, at least for a little while.

2. I can't really write about who attended the events where I was a caterer. Although I will say this: the catering company is so large and so well established that the first event I worked was attended by Will.I.Am and Mayor Bloomberg (who called me "Miss," by the way. I just look so sexy in Dansko clogs, what can I say?).

3. Do those parameters already seem like there's no point in starting this blog? Probably!

Anyway...join me, won't you? (Not actually a choice.)