Well, internet. I’ve delayed well into 2017 to save myself (and you all) the trouble of a “Gosh 2016 was the pits!” and “Good riddance and fuck off!” and “I bet if I change absolutely nothing and keep repeating the same behaviors, 2017 will be ah-may-zing” post.
You are welcome. And 2017 is going to be Totally. Amazing. Although I’m a bit terrified of what is going to happen to the EPA funding, the color orange, and anything rococo. (Don’t bother looking that up – it is the word for “Late Baroque” a la the new First Family’s home, reportedly decorated in a “color scheme of warm neutrals, such as gold, beige, rose, and blush, throughout” according to HomeBeautfiul.com.
Anyway, there will be plenty about that when half of the country turns themselves a shade of cheese-in-a-canister. All the rage up on Capitol Hill.
But back to me. I started off with a B A N G! So, you’re welcome, 2017. (I kissed a girl and I liked it.) No cherry Chapstick, though.
AND I did really well being swanky and sexy with my lovely ladyfriends for New Years Eve but somehow have spiraled since not taking my furry coat and my sweet outfit out on the town for a post-party bar hop.
Everyone join me in a solid mantra for 2017: “No crying over spilled blowcaine.”#real #adult #theotherwhitestuff (jk).
Unfortunately, my future seems a bit shaky as of now because the other day, after far (FAR) too many drinks, I was unable to get myself the few blocks to my best friend’s house. You might say I was lost.
No one, except maybe my Uber driver Kenneth, really knows what happened. However, I apparently managed to switch my regular Uber to “Uber Assist.” It is one tier below VIP. And, for 0.76 miles, 3:01 minutes, I did this:
And after finding this email, nursed my hangover with a bottle of wine with a cutie who just sat like a trooper for *many* hours of tattooed artistry, and we looked up what, exactly, Uber Assist is.
“uberASSIST is an uberX option that is designed to provide additional assistance to seniors and people with disabilities. Driver-partners are specifically trained by a third party organization to assist riders into vehicles and can accommodate folding wheelchairs, walkers, and scooters.”
The two of us got a solid ab workout over this development. And, naturally, we hypothesized about “What the fuck is up with that circle?”
Option one: Kenneth said “Um, blackout drunk does not count for Uber Assistance. Get out of my car so I can help someone with a real need.”
Kenneth got tired of me.
Kenneth said “No way am I taking you to a wine bar!”
Or maybe, I tried to get to St. Patrick Street to go to my best friend’s house. A phone call says that her place was my intended direction and got us all sorts of turned around.
It is possible I tried to get him to take me home but then ended up having him take me back?
After a lot of that, we kind of ended on the idea that more than likely he was tired of my shit, realized I did not need Uber Assist and was like “Please go away” and decided it safe to drop me back near where he found me.
A mystery. Kenneth?! Anyone know you?!
So, if you need me, I’ll be in my bed.