“Was I?” Anita O’Day

Sweet young thing of sixteen, thought I’d step out one night
I longed to get the thrilling life I’ve missed
I met a youth, a bit uncouth, although he seemed alright
I knew him by the moment when we kissed

Then I got home, next day with a swollen head
My girlfriend asked if I’d had fun. I said,
Was I drunk? Was he handsome? Did momma give me hell?
Did I get a thrill? Am I full of quiver?
Was he rough? Did I care? Am I glad I fell?
Every time I think of him do I shiver?
Was he hot? And was I? And would he stand for maybe?
He would not? Did I lie? Does he still think I’m a baby?
If I was, am I still? Do I care? Don’t be silly
Was I drunk? Was he handsome? And did momma give me hell?

Was I drunk? Was he handsome? Did momma give me hell?
With his hands loose as no refusin’
Did he fight? Was I blue? Almost shamed to tell
And I don’t know yet the system he was usin’
Well I said, stop, please, behave!
Well what’s the use of breathin’?
He said, give, so I gave
After all, what was I savin’?
Am I glad? Holy gee,
Have I had fun, you’re askin’ me?
Was I drunk? Was he handsome? And did momma give me hell?

Smashed

Well, it’s 6 in the morning on the first day of the new year (the new decade, even), and what am I doing? I’m listening to young folks be super drunk, realizing I’m not nearly as piss drunk as I thought I was, and playing WoW. I am a sad motherfucker.

Also, somebody drank my beer. When kids get drunk enough to down an IPA without much thought, that’s pretty goddamn impressive. It’s also irritating as all hell. That’s my fucking beer. I purchased it. Have the decency to stay out of it.

It was a good party. As always, I enjoyed myself at the home of John Walsh. For the second year running, I participated in shirtless o’clock. Namely, I will use any excuse to take my clothes off. Huzzah.

Spam texted New Year’s messages, harassed Knechtges, and let Sean get to me. It was… well, whatever. I love Sean dearly, I do. We’ve already established this. But one thing he’s really good about is not letting me be happy if he’s not happy. I was pressed for info on my crush tonight (a crush he already knows about), then he tried everything to shoot it down.

*sigh*

I just want to go home, sleep for a few hours, then drag Paul out for dinner tomorrow. Is that too much to ask?