08.16.05 | 4:25 p.m.

Oh Damien.

The past six months have been sort of a blur, and not because I was in a self-induced alcoholic coma, unfortunately.

I simply joined up with corporate America, took up wedding planning and decided to move out of my apartment of seven years at the end of this month. Reminds me, I have a lot crap. I tried selling some of it online, but go figure no one wants my sloppy seconds.

So, here’s a little recap of what the hell I have been up to.

For starters, I have been doing some work traveling with my friend Katie. Our latest journey found us in New York City participating in “team building exercises” by day and drinking beers with MTV-spawned Damien Fahey by night.

I had not heard of Damien, but I for reasons unknown I decided that my best approach was to tell him he smelled, spray him with my Corona and then tell him to stop acting like a little girl when he complained about his jeans being all wet.

He was introduced to us by one of my friends from college, Bryan and his friend Geoff , both of whom own their own companies and are under the age of 30.

The next day, after eating the $45 room service breakfast ordered at 3 a.m., I spontaneously vomited while watching a show on polygamy and waiting for it to be checkout/head to the airport time.

Earlier in the year, Katie and I took to the sidelines at the Gay Pride Parade in San Francisco, got drunk on $2.95 margaritas and bought some Alcatraz shirts for our mens that read: REJECT. Reason: Too Cute.

That was also a work trip, as we found ourselves the next day sequestered in a room with a bunch of salespeople learning how to sell. (We work in communications…)

We did end up a karaoke bar with the teacher of the class later that night where Jell-0 shots and Miller Lites were consumed in mass until the wee hours of the morning, leaving me clutching my barf bag in our 6 a.m. flight back to Chicago the next day.

More recently, I went to sushi with a five-week old and his parents (my friends), whereby I had to go home following dinner and he continued on to a bar.

I also spent some time in Wisconsin, camping and nearly dying on a rafting trip because my fiancé and I failed to wear our life jackets, oh and we were wasted.

Tip of the day, when rafting, it is much more comfortable to ride the rapids whilst inside the boat and not “bareback”—especially in low tide.

Later Gators