Raffi, my bud from LA, came to San Francisco for a night to hang out with Rupen and myself. We had a smashing good time :)
We "pre-partied" at "Psi O", the fraternity house that Rupen lives in, from 6-10PM. In that time, I learned a new drinking game called High-Low. It's tremendously fun, unfortunately, it got me trashed.
We finally got our asses in gear and headed out to a bar/club called Blondies in the Mission. The drinking continued throughout the night, until 2AM, at which point they kindly kicked our asses out onto the street.
Raffi, Linda (someone fun I met at Psi O), and I took a cab back to Rupen's to continue the festivities. Too bad I was so utterly trashed. I don't really remember anything beyond leaving the club and getting in the Taxi. I vaguely remember feeling ill and paying a visit to the bathroom.
I do recall passing-out in there... but this morning I woke up on the couch with no idea how I got there. Some kind soul was even nice enough to cover me with a blanket.
This morning, I woke up with the worst hang-over I've head in recent memory. I suppose it's the indication of having a "really good time". It's days like that, that your body really really appreciates a greasy breakfast.
3 more weeks till London. I'm excited!