11 hours of solid unconsciousness. hours spent last night jumping around on changle from the taiwanese hole in the wall to the japanese hole in the wall. beers and sake and round after round of grilled food item. i can't remember what we were eating, but there was a lot of it and the fact that we'd already eaten at the taiwanese place seemed to have no precedence. steph, sherry, albert, me. the place was teeny tiny and only housed about 5 other small tables, so the japanese businessmen types next to us and their prolific amounts of cigarette smoke (sherry was coveting the silk cuts that one of them had) were deeply inhaled by all. i was nearly (or basically) passing out at the table. exhaustion? recovery? still hirarious. i love my folk.
sherry went on to dress up either in drag or faux drag for the party at shanghai station... i would have loved to have gone with, but i proceeded home (after falling asleep in a cab and almost missing my turn) and crashed. oh heavenly sleep.
CSI miami is fucking LAME.
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