Falling Flat on My Face
And I mean that literally and figuratively.
Brain dead is the most apt description for my current state of mind, and no, it's not because that's my only state of mind. I've just gotten home from Hong Kong and my mind is mush after not having slept much in the last 10 days.
Quite frankly, I drank way too much alcohol in that time frame. So much that the bartenders at McSorley's Irish pub in the Macau Venetian all knew my name and gave me hugs when I checked out. And THEN I went and spent the weekend with JP, who has been known to drink to excess and speaks of his liver in capital letters. Poor planning on my part - or rather, a complete lack of any plan because that's how I roll apparently.
What is sure to make the highlight reels of this liquid-loving weekend is the part where I tripped getting out of a taxi and ended up face-first on the pavement outside the fourth pub of the night. God bless JP for picking me up, dusting me off and quickly steering me into the pub for something to make me forget about the pain in my knees from having hit them on the ground. Of course, he had to relate the story the next night to his friends at dinner - and rightly so, I'd have done the same thing. Still, I wouldn't have minded both of us getting so drunk that we would have forgotten, but considering the grisly bruises, I doubt there was enough alcohol in all of Lan Kwai Fong to accomplish that.
JP once again proved his mad skillz on the hospitality front. Although he was awfully mellow (for him) having just recently busted up his rib cage playing rugby. Did that stop him from playing in his team's final match of the season? If you answered yes, you know him not. No amount of reasonable thinking was going to stop him, but the good thing for me was that I did get to watch him play. I really wished I knew a lot more about the sport so I could have properly derided his play, but considering that lack of knowledge, I thought he did pretty well in the losing effort.
In addition to drinking mass quantities of beer and watching his team get mauled on the field, he also cooked some delicious noodle soup for me and sportingly dragged me up a steep mountain with about 14 million steps to see the 10,000 Buddhas. Another memorable time spent in Hong Kong, no doubt. Most of the pictures are on Flickr already, all except the 10,000 Buddhas, which I'll get to sometime this week. There aren't many from that day since JP kept muttering under his breath how much he hates tourists, so it wasn't the ideal environment for taking pictures, but that's just because I'm a pussy.
Brain dead is the most apt description for my current state of mind, and no, it's not because that's my only state of mind. I've just gotten home from Hong Kong and my mind is mush after not having slept much in the last 10 days.
Quite frankly, I drank way too much alcohol in that time frame. So much that the bartenders at McSorley's Irish pub in the Macau Venetian all knew my name and gave me hugs when I checked out. And THEN I went and spent the weekend with JP, who has been known to drink to excess and speaks of his liver in capital letters. Poor planning on my part - or rather, a complete lack of any plan because that's how I roll apparently.
What is sure to make the highlight reels of this liquid-loving weekend is the part where I tripped getting out of a taxi and ended up face-first on the pavement outside the fourth pub of the night. God bless JP for picking me up, dusting me off and quickly steering me into the pub for something to make me forget about the pain in my knees from having hit them on the ground. Of course, he had to relate the story the next night to his friends at dinner - and rightly so, I'd have done the same thing. Still, I wouldn't have minded both of us getting so drunk that we would have forgotten, but considering the grisly bruises, I doubt there was enough alcohol in all of Lan Kwai Fong to accomplish that.
JP once again proved his mad skillz on the hospitality front. Although he was awfully mellow (for him) having just recently busted up his rib cage playing rugby. Did that stop him from playing in his team's final match of the season? If you answered yes, you know him not. No amount of reasonable thinking was going to stop him, but the good thing for me was that I did get to watch him play. I really wished I knew a lot more about the sport so I could have properly derided his play, but considering that lack of knowledge, I thought he did pretty well in the losing effort.
In addition to drinking mass quantities of beer and watching his team get mauled on the field, he also cooked some delicious noodle soup for me and sportingly dragged me up a steep mountain with about 14 million steps to see the 10,000 Buddhas. Another memorable time spent in Hong Kong, no doubt. Most of the pictures are on Flickr already, all except the 10,000 Buddhas, which I'll get to sometime this week. There aren't many from that day since JP kept muttering under his breath how much he hates tourists, so it wasn't the ideal environment for taking pictures, but that's just because I'm a pussy.
Comments