Just came from having Manhattans with Jack and Jakeland. V. tired and utterly legless. Walked home fast because vision is v. blurry. Think I may puke, but serves me right. Was accosted by polite gay man on bycicle. Told him I had no money, and was not so polite, but left abruptly. With bicycle. Walked home very fast, as was afraid of being taken advantage of or similar as am too drunk to do anything other than pretend I am Helen Fielding or her creation Brigit Jones, or similar. Have to pee. Want to crawl into bed and have Tim rub my feet. Tim is out collecting wood for senior show. Wish I was not such a drinking lightweight. Am sorry to be so drunk after so few drinks, though am glad that am a cheap date, as this makes drinking a less expensive venture than for most. Manhattans (bourbon, vermouth, and bitters) tastes like shit. Jack said they were v. big for Manhattans, as Manhattans are usually half the size of the ones we consumed this evening. Can barely see the screen anymore. Do not like Manhattans, but drank the whole thing anyway because one only lives once, and because did not want to seem like a baby. Have never really drunk (in this country anyway) without Tim. Is odd sensation. Talked about summer vacactions (holidays to beach, mountains, and lake or similar) with enthused Jakeland and highly apprehensive Jack. Want to go make love on a beach, but it's cold and am too inebriated to move. Feeling sick. Going to bed.
Am proud of spelling on this entry. Grammar appalling. Will berate self properly in the morning.
