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December 16th, 2002

I called the wrong shots.

Last night was fun. I went to the bar and apparently it was the owner's birthday, so there were two guys playing guitar. I talked to the two bartender chicks I know and him for an hour until my friends showed up, and I ordered round after round of shots for the group. I drank like a fish ($140 bar tab) and much occured (I won't get into it, but apparently I gave someone the wrong impression and caused them to leave the bar crying). I went to a party after the bar closed, and got called back by one of the bartenders to give the owner a ride home; I got there and he was laying on the floor in the john sick as a dog puking and wailing on and wouldn't let me take him anywhere, and made us all leave. So we went next door to the Waffle house and carried on for a bit, then I went over to the bartender's place and I woke up the next morning there. There was awkwardness and I left. Today at the D&D game I told everyone a few stories of what I did last night, and they told me a few stories of what I did. I kind of feel bad about buying everyone so many shots because I forget how poorly many of my friends hold their liquor; It's probably what caused the owner to get like he was and the other person to get the wrong impression. I did talk briefly to the owner about me going in with him on a bar he's planning on buying in Mississipi; I hope he remembered (I'll remind him this week if he forgets).

I'm leaving early tomorrow for Galveston to talk w/ the lab mentor, then coming home tues or wed again.
I got up late, but left at 8:30 and got here at round 1:30. It's so nice driving in the morning, so much less traffic. I forgot what the scenery actually looked like in the sunlight. Not to get crap done, and to clean this apartment while I'm already here.