October 09, 2005

Rock Rock, till you, uh, drop.

Lots of music this weekend.

Friday night Christina's band Triple Creme had their cd release party at Rothko's. I arrived around 9 because I was also interested in seeing the first band, Lady Unluck. The guitarist is the captain of the Queens of Pain Roller Derby team, and a number of the Gotham Girls were there to show support. Imagine, all of my crushes in the same room. Ha. Of course I had to have a few pints while I waited.

Lady Unluck were cool as well as the other openers, Winning Looks and Katastrophe, but I was really psyched to see Triple Creme as I had only seen them once before at a benefit show back in May. I invited some friends along, and Mia and two other friends from the Block, Katy and Marshall, came by for the Triple Creme set.

The room was packed when Triple Creme got on stage around midnight and they gave a really strong set. They have been doing shows up in New England all last week and are sounding great. They played a number of songs from the new album, This Might Hurt to a very enthusiastic crowd. You should check the new album out on their site and listen to some mp3s there or at their MySpace Site.

After the show we stopped off for a few more beers at a nearby bar. I think I got home around 3... I think...

And then...

Saturday morning I woke up still drunk. It's been a long time since that's happened. Usually I just feel awful and leave it at that, but this particular morning I was still quite a bit unsteady on my feet and definitely having trouble with a few seemingly simple concepts, like breakfast, and some apparently more complex ones, like the weekend subway advisory. And what made it worse was that I had a brunch date at noon.

My first strategy was to try to sleep as late as possible - calculate the absolute minimum amount of time for showering, dressing and navigating this weekend's subway challenge and set my alarm accordingly. The logic being that maybe there was still a chance of sleeping this thing off. No luck. When I woke up and uneasy was joined by queasy and achey. The unholy triad of a long night out.

Because the F was not running from my neighborhood I walked over to the 4,5 on Court Street. When a 2 pulled into the station I boarded without question then panicked at the next station and got off. I soon found out that the 2 was replacing the 5 all the way to 145th Street, so I really should have stayed on it but because of my impulsiveness, I now had to wait at Bowling Green for the next train to show up. And it was humid. And gross. And that's when the sweating started.

Sidenote: My least favorite aspect of the subway is how you can just stand and sweat without even doing anything. I was already feeling pretty low and now, I had to assume, I was leaching alcohol from every pore.

The train finally arrived and I made it to Union Sq. without further incident. The brunch went well and I believe I was able to string together enough coherent thoughts to effectively hold up my end of the conversation. I know there were a few times that my brain failed me completely, but I was able to recover quickly ("Oh my god is that Gwyneth Paltrow over there? Guess not. I'm sorry, what did you say again?"). And if I smelled like a fraternity house basement, she had the good graces not to mention it. After that we went to the movies and parted soon after. I went home and immediately took a nap.