Sometimes I wake up in the morning and I have no idea how I ended up in my bed. Like the morning after St. Patty's Day. I was naked in my own bed- it actually took me a few minutes to figure out where the fuck I was. And I had searing pain in my chin, my knee and my wrist. Upon further inspection (i.e. dragging myself out of bed and into the bathroom) I realized I had cuts and bruises everywhere. The hell of it is the cuts are all on my right side except the one on my left knee. I obviously ate it. My next thought is I hope I didn't rip my pants. They were Banana Republic and I got them on sale- STEAL!
I think maybe starting the St. Patty's Day drink fest at 6 pm was not the best idea I have ever come up with. Two of my friends and I decided to hit up Connelly Station and then the night gets hazy.....oh, right about the minute we walked in the door. There were whiskey shots, car bombs, beers, rum and cokes and I don't know what else. There were appetizers. There were piles of money (mine I think. Dammit. Now I'm broke) There were credit cards (mine again). There were old people, young people. Apparently some of my famous booty dancing occurred followed by some of my not so famous BOOBY dancing. Which evidently consists of me pulling my shirt down, pushing my boobs together and doing some kind of wiggle. I don't know who wouldn't be attracted to that but apparently I did quite a bit of it for the bar.
At some point I was dragged to another bar. I mean dragged because there is no way I could have possibly put one foot in front of the other at that point. I have a vague memory of doing a shot of whiskey with one of my other drinking buddies and then nothing. I was later told it wasn't just one shot. My drinking pal and I pulled up bar stools in front of my cousin and he handed us two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey. Which, rumor has it, we finished. I like to finish what I start. When it involves alcohol. When it involves anything else...not so much. I have a short attention span- probably due to the brain cells I kill getting wasted 7 nights a week. God I love that about this place. In the south, they have to plan their Sunday drinking. Here I can just walk to whatever bar or liquor store I want and go nuts. Spur of the moment. Sabbath? Pssshhhh. Where was I? I went off on a tangent. Typical.
How did I get into the house I was staying at? When I tried to sneak into my grandmother's house did I wake her? Did I converse with her? Probably. She seemed pretty pissed off when I saw her the next day. In fact she totally rolled her eyes at me when my dad mentioned he was taking me to pick my car up. If I hadn't been so hung over I might have laughed.
It seems to me, as not one of my friends knows how I got home or how I fell, I must have walked the 5 or 6 miles home. Which means I got in at roughly 5 am if my calculations are correct. I burned a few of those beer calories too. Nice.
Oh and I was supposed to pick my dad up at the airport. Which is kind of difficult when my car is still at the bar and I sleep through the alarm. Lucky for me he caught a train and my uncle picked him up and he dropped me at my car. I think he has resigned himself to the fact that I'm a mess and just given up. He still has my brother. Well, until his 21st when I corrupt him.
On the upside I made it home with my keys, camera and phone. Plus a whole DOLLAR. I thought I lost my credit card and ID and was really pissed at myself all day. But apparently, when I drink, I'm so smart I hide things from myself so I won't use them or lose them. I just am not as smart when I sober up. It's actually very difficult to follow drunk logic when sober which makes figuring out my life next to impossible.
But, I don't have a drinking problem. I have a life problem. As in I can't seem to stop myself from making stupid decisions that affect my life. Someone has to make you feel better about your life and that someone is me. It's a public service that i get wasted. Sweet.
I think maybe starting the St. Patty's Day drink fest at 6 pm was not the best idea I have ever come up with. Two of my friends and I decided to hit up Connelly Station and then the night gets hazy.....oh, right about the minute we walked in the door. There were whiskey shots, car bombs, beers, rum and cokes and I don't know what else. There were appetizers. There were piles of money (mine I think. Dammit. Now I'm broke) There were credit cards (mine again). There were old people, young people. Apparently some of my famous booty dancing occurred followed by some of my not so famous BOOBY dancing. Which evidently consists of me pulling my shirt down, pushing my boobs together and doing some kind of wiggle. I don't know who wouldn't be attracted to that but apparently I did quite a bit of it for the bar.
At some point I was dragged to another bar. I mean dragged because there is no way I could have possibly put one foot in front of the other at that point. I have a vague memory of doing a shot of whiskey with one of my other drinking buddies and then nothing. I was later told it wasn't just one shot. My drinking pal and I pulled up bar stools in front of my cousin and he handed us two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey. Which, rumor has it, we finished. I like to finish what I start. When it involves alcohol. When it involves anything else...not so much. I have a short attention span- probably due to the brain cells I kill getting wasted 7 nights a week. God I love that about this place. In the south, they have to plan their Sunday drinking. Here I can just walk to whatever bar or liquor store I want and go nuts. Spur of the moment. Sabbath? Pssshhhh. Where was I? I went off on a tangent. Typical.
How did I get into the house I was staying at? When I tried to sneak into my grandmother's house did I wake her? Did I converse with her? Probably. She seemed pretty pissed off when I saw her the next day. In fact she totally rolled her eyes at me when my dad mentioned he was taking me to pick my car up. If I hadn't been so hung over I might have laughed.
It seems to me, as not one of my friends knows how I got home or how I fell, I must have walked the 5 or 6 miles home. Which means I got in at roughly 5 am if my calculations are correct. I burned a few of those beer calories too. Nice.
Oh and I was supposed to pick my dad up at the airport. Which is kind of difficult when my car is still at the bar and I sleep through the alarm. Lucky for me he caught a train and my uncle picked him up and he dropped me at my car. I think he has resigned himself to the fact that I'm a mess and just given up. He still has my brother. Well, until his 21st when I corrupt him.
On the upside I made it home with my keys, camera and phone. Plus a whole DOLLAR. I thought I lost my credit card and ID and was really pissed at myself all day. But apparently, when I drink, I'm so smart I hide things from myself so I won't use them or lose them. I just am not as smart when I sober up. It's actually very difficult to follow drunk logic when sober which makes figuring out my life next to impossible.
But, I don't have a drinking problem. I have a life problem. As in I can't seem to stop myself from making stupid decisions that affect my life. Someone has to make you feel better about your life and that someone is me. It's a public service that i get wasted. Sweet.
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