Today we had the office Christmas party. It wasn't too bad. The earlier part of the day was spent at Alumbra, which is trendy bar slash club; the food we ate there was nice; and I discovered that I like grapefruit juice with Campari possibly more than I like bloody Marys, probably because they taste worse. After that we went to this other bar called Troika, which is more bar-ish and less trendy. And after that perhaps the half of us still remaining went to the Railway Hotel, where the general idea was to drink to excess; and I certainly had a good run at it, because I didn't know what it was like, the company was amenable, the corporate tab is as convenient a source of largesse as any might conceivably be, and because at least to some extent I'd already gotten started. Nihilism didn't play a part but in retrospect I can certainly see how it might do under other circumstances.

In the end, I drank to the extent that my coordination suffered somewhat, my sense of direction went entirely to hell, and I became generally confused. But I could still walk and I wasn't obnoxious. After having left I called Stacii because she's always been peculiarly fascinated by the idea of what I might be like inebriated (never understood why, who knows) and frankly, I don't see it ever happening again, so it seemed only sporting to grant her wish. We talked for fifteen minutes or so. At the end she said she was going to come out and drive me home which at that point was such an obviously good idea that I didn't even try to decline; instead I had to settle for just being very touched. She gave me a bottle of water and a banana (in a display of almost distressing savoir faire) and drove me home, and really that's as nice a christmas present as I've ever gotten I should think.