Weekend boozin', girls. Sorry.

I'm not really a huge fan of writing these entries from home. There was something more fun about them when I was writing at work. Now, I feel like I should be out doing something, instead of sitting here staring at a computer screen. Oh well.
This weekend was interesting. A friend from NBC had a housewarming party at her new digs out in Hoboken. I know you're all scoffing and arching your eyebrows, but Hoboken is actually a really cool place. Lots of young people, lots of bars, clean streets. Not bad at all.
Anyway, earlier in the day I had gone to a friend's apartment in Queens to play cards and drink beers in celebration of Elvis' 70th birthday. Here's where the trouble begins. I should've picked one party and stuck to it. By committing myself to both, I was guaranteed to get too drunk, and make a fool of myself. Did that thought cross my mind? Of course it did. Did I listen to myself? Of course I didn't. Instead I drank a good six beers in Queens before heading out to Hoboken. This was before 8:00, mind you. Anyway, we got to the party, drank too much wine and liquor, and chit chatted the night away. The girl throwing the party, we'll call her Hoboken Girl, is really cool. We get along really well. The night was crusing along, when, thanks to all the booze, I happily told her all about New Girl, shrugging my shoulders and explaining New Girl's side by saying, "Well, everyone's got baggage." Great Robert. That really sums it all up, doesn't it. Anyway, someone suggested tequila shots, which was exactly what I didn't need. I remember the first one, then I remember waking up in my bed. Uh oh. There's no way I went from that shot to my apartment without anything happening in between. I called a friend of mine who went to the party with me. I winced as he talked about how we'd actually had five tequila shots. I was just waiting to hear about how I'd punched her roommate, peed in her closet, and broke her coffee table. But somehow, all that happened was that I came out of it as "cute and funny" in her eyes. I was expecting "retarded and scary," but hey, I'll take it. This of course adds a new wrinkle to an already frustrating situation.
I feel like my brain is the tetherball in a marathon game between my common sense and my romantic curiosity. Sure, it would be smart to forget about New Girl, and see what could happen with Hoboken Girl, and I really think there could be something good with Hoboken Girl. Hmm...I don't know. There's a lot of tetherball left to be played.