July 2, 1994

When I donated blood the previous day, I was warned not to drink alcohol for at least 8 hours. And I didn't. But later that evening I was at the Glove Factory, went downstairs to fill my water cup, and ran into one of the undergrad sculptors, who insisted that I come into her studio for a drink. She had a bottle of bourbon and a 2 litre bottle of soda to mix it with. One led to another, and another, and another. Eventually she wanted to go out to a bar. She was upset, claiming that her boyfriend had just dumped her. I didn't believe this (her sole reason for this conclusion was that he wasn't home when she called his house earlier in the evening) and decided maybe I should go along to keep her out of trouble. We started off at the closest bar (Sidetracks, a popular college student hangout), and eventually moved over to the Hangar, where a band was playing. When that closed, I figured the night was over, but she heard someone talking about a keg party at a house nearby and literally dragged me part of the way. (she also turned cartwheels in the street part of the way) I had only one beer at each location, so was gradually sobering, but she was still pretty drunk. I finally convinced her to call it a night around 4:30 am, and walked her back to the Glove Factory, where she picked up her bicycle and headed home.

The image in the print refers to the hangover I woke up with after all the events of the previous evening, much of which actually occurred in the early morning hours of this day.