Last weekend, I was part of Pressgang Theater's storytelling night, "Narcotics Synonymous." The night centered around tales of drugging and drinking, and since of all of us were in our twenties, it was far less depressing than it could have been. I told the story of my very first bad hangover, and it was captured for posterity by Liz, who apologies profusely for both letting the camera wander and sitting too close to her guffawing husband.
My boyfriend pointed out that the story was basically just a blog post, live-styles. In that spirit, I present it to you.
I feel ambivalent about how I look (I have one chin too many, and the lights washed me out something fierce), but I'm grateful for the chance to be part of something like this. Blogging is personal, and rarely performed, so it was challenging and refreshing to do something with immediate, visceral feedback. Thank you to those in the audience who laughed, and if you laugh at home, bless you. I thought there was nothing lonelier than a blog entry without comments; as it turns out, it's a joke where nobody laughs.