On the flight back I sit beside some kind of baller, which I only figure out halfway through as I came out of a substance induced haze, by the gigantic championship ring on his hand.

The weekend was good, enough. If I had stayed a extra day a flamboyant D&G clad black man would have thrown me a party at the penthouse. I went home instead. Today we rafted down the river drinking fireball whiskey and not getting arrested. This was after crashing two free religious sponsored breakfasts. Keep the Jesus, I'll have another pancake! The day before we were at this bar with fake tits with thousands of people. I was wearing a little white sun dress amidst a sea of short shorts, it went over well,

My boyfriend got incredibly super drunk the second night I was there. He does this about once a year, like obliterated drunk, and generally I try and avoid whatever magical night it will be. My friends, who sometimes are like that, got all pissed at his drunkenness (even though he wasn't doing anything offensive in particular, he was just taking his time leaving) and then I was angry both at them and at him for making them mad because we were supposed to sleep at their downtown apartment due to current suburban situations.

[Junior High Alert!]

It wasn't so much my friends as the wife of one of my friends. Which was ridiculous, so I didn't call to smooth anything over the next day; maybe next week. Maybe not at all. Part of it is because she's good friends with the [get ready to try and follow] girl who dated my ex after me (but is now my ex's ex) and she wants to report back that my boyfriend is some kind of asshole and we're on the rocks. Which he's not, and we're not.

For me, the barometer is whether I would behave the same way in the situation: inconvenienced by a significant other when trying to head home for the night. Her complaining to me about my boyfriend the way she did was offside. I think a lot of my friends, especially guys, date super bitches and we all let it slide and are nice to them (right up until he comes to his senses and dumps her, at which point she ceases to exist).

As a result of the tension and being trashed there was a comedic, horrible argument on some street corner with my boyfriend, after my friends faded into the night. Punctuated by drug addicts stopping to ask us for change. We never talked about it the day after. It was that nonsensical, on both sides. I felt a little bad about it as he passed out on the train ten minutes later and then threw up when we got home and wrapped his entire body around mine shivering and saying sadly "I...don't...feel...good" and passed out again.

Otherwise. He got along really well with my brother and his gf. We all hung out and he fits in well with them and is comfortable being himself. Which is cool. Only seeing each other for about five days in two and a half months is... admittedly not ideal. But in six weeks he's closer again and the stress of having to fit a summer of a relationship into 72 hours is done.

I need sleep.