I Should Really Call This: "Exceedingly Frequent Ingestion of Large Amounts of Alcohol Equals Heartburn"

Uhhh, I apologize sincerely for the lack of blogging lately...I have been way too busy drinking each and every night. In fact, right now I am still drunk, despite the fact it is 11:30 AM, because I was up until 5:30 and the hangover came early enough to wake me, leaving me now in pretty intense discomfort. I would estimate that out of the last 2 weeks I have been solidly sloshed for at least 10 of those nights...and 3 of those times, days.

Some may ask what my newfound alcoholism (and my friends, there is no other word) stems from. Why give up what you love so much (weed) for something that 4 months ago you didn't really like that much? Why do you get heartburn, Andrew, every time you drink, forcing you to drink at least 1/4 gallon of milk to kill it every time you drink? Why do these tears come at night? (She's so lucky...she's a star!) The answer to all of your questions has one simple answer, and I know it is one that I am going to hear about so I will just spew it out, accepting all backlash it creates: I have somehow gotten the idea in my head that I am WAY more fun when I am drunk, which I know is probably the case. See, for me, being drunk involves three things: being loud, forcing myself into intensely akward situations that are made slightly less akward (for me at least) because of my drunkeness because when I am sober I am too akward to deal with anything, and finally, everyone's favorite...talking politics! Like last night, for instance. Mike, Matt, and I were up until 5 AM just talking and the conversation tended to veer a lot towards politics. (Btw, Matt is now 110% more awesome in my book now that I know he is a libertarian)

As for the heartburn side of my life, it is getting really bad. Some have been speculating that my intense drinking schedule has led me to perhaps have developed an ulcer. It is just no good. I can say, however, that I am now such a powerful drinker that I have stopped with my old pesky habit of puking if I had too much in my system. Nonono, now my body just carries the burden of being the drunkest one at the social gathering in someone's living room. Hmmmm...akward.

Anyways, this is my last weekend in London. I leave Monday for Germany for a week before coming back to London for a night to pick up my luggage and then go off to the US of A. Really, though, I am not going to be able to handle this situation at all. The tears will come, the panic attack at having to uproot a life I like so much will come (starting now, apparently), and the overwhelming sick feeling in stomach that only my parents can create shall come as well.

Today, as it is the last official day in London, as so many people leave tomorrow, is going to be "Do all your favorite things about London but while stoned" day! That means food at Burrough Market, a walk along the Thames, Brick Lane Bakery, Spittelfields market, SoHo, perhaps a picnic in Hyde Park or Green Park or Reagent's Park, and getting more and more stoned throughout the day! Hope everyone had a great semester. To the people in London that made it what it is and was, thank you so, so much. Each one of you has single-handedly in some way or another saved my life this semester and I really appreciate it. Wow, that was sappy...but it needed to be said. I really love all of you. (Wellllll....not all. Names that start with the letter "E" have sort of fallen out of favor, including ones that invite themselves on trips with you, fake ones, ones that can't shut the fuck up, etc!)

Goodbye London!