Kelly Clarkson and Me

I don't know what it is about pop female vocalists but I can't seem to get enough of Kelly Clarkson's heartbreak ballads, Black Eyed Peas Catchy beats, and Briney's techno sex circus. As I sit here tired a from a hard day's work, hung over a weekend's drinking, and worn out on romance without even being involved in any (I put myself through two rom coms this weekend), I can't help but turn back to good old Kelly my texas compatriot (yes texas is considered a country by its citizens) and americas number one idol.

I spent the weekend voraciously emptying eighteen packs (all in all I think 9 of them were consumed in my apartment between thurs and sunday). Thursday night I treated myself to wine, whiskey, and beer, the holy trinity of hang overs. Depressingly I realized I no longer knew anyone that treats Thursdays as weekends and settled for a college party that I'd only been invited through facebook despite not being in contact with any of its hosts. My post college friends and I showed up drunker than anyone in probably the whole damned bar. My roommate even went to such lengths and petting a clearly horrified 19 year old. The distant look in his eye made it obvious that he had absolutely no awareness of his actions. Many beers later I woke up at 10am on Friday, 3 1/2 hours after my alarm. Work would not be a reachable destination and I avoided even emailing or calling my manager because frankly I was too drunk to even think of an excuse let alone put it to words.

Predictably I followed this with more ill advised midday boozing intermingled with half hearted attempts at story telling. After compiling some quarter of a century's pages of rambling trash I deemed my work complete and devoted my full attention to the recently purchased beer in my fridge. I'd already had a liquid lunch and subway was the healthy choice I accompanied my beer with for dinner. Luckily this night I didn't bother the outside world with my plastered presence and stayed confined to my apartment to consume among friends and fellow alcoholic influencers.

The weekend pretty much continued on like that until Sunday night when I heard a Kelly Clarkson song on the tv's music channel and listened to it on repeat for the next two hours at my computer sipping coors light and adding pages to what will probably be another horrid attempt at novelized fiction by the author that brings you intermittent comedy and constant dissapointment.

happy holidays