how teachers get down (bday love pt. 2)

it is now official - if you want to party hard in a new city, find the local public school teachers and just follow them around. i don't mean if you want to find a evening of good laughs. and i don't mean if you're looking for some smooth jazz. and i don't mean if you're looking to get crunk and throw bows in the club. no - if you don't want to remember shit in the morning! if you want to wake up next to a german nurse! if you want to see your picture in the paper the next morning over a caption that reads "masked crusader found in local zoo, page 6"

so yeah, with that said, i found myself out with my fellow teachers last friday. being a new teacher, and the day after my birthday, i can say that it was an evening to try to remember. and oh, how i drank them under the table. kinda. drank myself under the table? is that an adage? i'm not sure. nothing is quite logical after you've been vomitting on a street corner in harlem in the middle of the night for an unknown period of time. i haven't thrown up from liquor since i was 12. yes, this one was complete with the urge to screw any size hole in the wall and the sensational feeling of reality seeming like a house of mirrors. the hangover was classic too. it was served with a delightful headache while i was sleeping, a side of misconception of time, and topped off with the strangest sensation in my cheek bones - equivilant to that of having cardboard stuffed right under your eye sockets.

to my knowledge, i was sober enough to try not to embarrass myself. beyond them all acknowledging i was too drunk fully engage in rousing conversation, i was alright by most standards. i've seen drunker. and in comparison, i wasn't dancing on the bar, starting my own sing-a-long, or hitting on random ugly women. to be quite honest, i was/am quite proud of myself.

again, happy birthday mr. wilborn.