Hungover Down Under

Last night I had some people over to enjoy some of my imports from Oz. Well, not all of them I personally brought over, some were courtesy of Empire Liquors on Queens Blvd. It was great. Ten to twelve people killed over seven bottles of plonk (Aussie for booze). My downstairs neighbor started banging on her ceiling around 1:30am, so that's when the party started to die. I was fine until the rose, then J noticed I was teetering around. Missing dinner and cutting back on carbs will do that to me.

Unfortunately, I woke up at 7am today feeling like someone hit me on the back of the head with one of the empties. Tried taking Advil and yakked that right back up. J had to scrape me off the bathroom floor. We then passed out for six more hours, and I woke up as if the headache never happened.

We're off to meet J's big bro (from his frat) and do touristy stuff in New York. I never get sick of traipsing aimlessly through Central Park and looking at exhibits at the Met. The $20 entrance fee doesn't even faze me; the museum is so huge, and the last couple of times I have entered for free with a family pass.