02 April 2002


Sonya and I don't really celebrate Easter in any kind of formal, Jesus-and-bunnies way, so when our friends Tina and Steve suggested an Easter brunch we said yes.

I was in charge of finding a place. The requirements: free booze included with the food. I chose Midi South of France in the Le Meridien Hotel.

"I'm excited about it," I told the French guy who took my reservation.

"You are lahk zee leetle chahld," said the French guy.

So we went to brunch and it was very fucking good. Lots of savory meats and cheeses and breakfast food and big slabs of ham and prime rib and seafood. Just ridiculous. And lots of chocolaty goodness for dessert. They had a clown and a guy dressed up like the Easter bunny, too. I'm assuming it was a guy, anyway. It could have been a giant, bipedal rabbit. They even had a pen full of real rabbits to coo over.

And there was lots of mimosas. Lots of 'em.

After brunch we went down Bourbon to watch Chris Owens' parade in the drizzling rain. Chris Owens is the beneficiary of some major plastic surgery over the years; she's ancient with big black hair and tiny little costumes. She has a bar on Bourbon and, apparently, an Easter parade. We caught beads with the tourists and had another round of drinks.

"Let's go somewhere where we can sit down," Sonya said after the parade.

"How 'bout the piano bar at Pat O's?" Tina suggested. So we went there.

We drank and requested cheesy piano-based songs. Elton John, Billy Joel, Frank Sinatra. That kind of thing. Well before two o'clock I was totally hammered.

Around five we left and caught a cab home. We needed some groceries, but Sonya didn't want to leave the dog after being gone for so long - we were both afraid she might take a retaliatory shit due to our lack of attention. So we took her with us. I sat in the car while Sonya went in and got a few groceries. 

Back at the house I played some Tony Hawk, and ate a sandwich, and thought about doing some laundry. Sonya came downstairs to watch Queer As Folk and I lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling. Suddenly I didn't feel so good. Sonya eventually went back upstairs to work on freelance job and I twisted around to turn off the lamp by the couch. Uh-oh. Too much twisting. Urk.

I capped off Easter Sunday by vomiting vigorously into the downstairs toilet.

I don't think it's fair, getting a hangover on the same day you drink. Still, I guess it's a risk when you start drinking before noon.

On an unrelated note, I've been listening to Kylie Minogue's new album all day, courtesy of a coworker who actually purchased it. If you're in to the disco Euro kind of thing (like I am) then this album is the motherfuckin' bomb. And have I mentioned just how hot Kylie is?