There's nothing like waking up buck naked and covered in blood. I really wish someone had snapped a photo. I left my helmet in Emily's room. Sometimes, I think I should have worn it home; that was a tough walk. But then again, it would not have protected my chin, hand, shoulder or knees.

I spent the day yesterday, laying on the couch with crappy Saturday afternoon Global television on, thinking. As I looked back to the night before and remembered what it was like to be lying on the sidewalk on Hunter Street, I got all these memories flooding me; reminding me that nothing has changed. This is not a new thing for me. I've spent plenty of time with my face in the mud, or on the pavement. I'm thankful it's been a long time since I threw up all over a friend's (or worse, stranger's) bed.

The first memory to come to mind was a night leaving Ali's apartment, above Rassy's. The cab was there and I made it down the steep stairs rather quickly. Everything was going good, until I tripped on the door frame, landing on the sidewalk, hands and knees bloody, looking up at my cab.

Next, I remember a night outside of J's. I think it may have been the first Hold show. I couldn't help with gear; I was laying in the mud with my face hanging over the curb.

I also remember a Snaps show years ago. I made it up the stairs from backstage just fine, but couldn't make it down the two on the other side of the stage, beside the back door and the sound thing. Many people saw me come flying out of seemingly nowhere, and slide across the floor, hitting the wall like the Cottonelle puppy.

But this fall was probably one of the worst. I usually manage to catch myself with my hands and knees. Not so Friday night. Besides wiping out on a bike or skateboard as a child, this was one of the first times I had landed on my face. Now I look beautiful for the job interviews I hope to get soon. I don't remember leaving; I was already passing out. I should learn when NOT to say "can I have some more? KC, can I have some more?" I don't remember tripping or stumbling, or anything that happened after the fall, but I do remember a distinct feeling as my chin collided with the sidewalk. If someone had gone out and scraped the sidewalk, I bet you could clone me. But that would be a very bad idea. I'm surprised I didn't lose any teeth. It hurts to open my mouth too wide, or to swallow, or to laugh. I guess I deserve it for drinking Jim Beam and walking around with a G.G. quote on my back.