30 is the New 21
Friday was BDP's birthday. We're officially observing this momentous occasion by going to Vegas this coming weekend for some of those carousals we all know and love the City of Sin for. But since her birthday was actually this past Friday, we had to do something.
So, we're all in our upper 20's or early 30's. That means we're adults and full of maturity, right? Well here are a few of the things that went down Friday night that might suggest otherwise...
1) We didn't pay attention to any of the warnings we all know about in regards to what alcohols one shouldn't mix together.
2) In following with item #1, we had margaritas with dinner, followed by champagne, then a fruity Chambord shot, then a tequila shot, then our regular vodka based cocktails, and then beer. Oh, and then another shot. I don't remember what that shot was. Go figure.
3) At the last bar (TUG) I actually found myself asking: "Liquor before beer, in the clear, right?"
4) On the stumbling walk home, I actually thought that I was maybe sober enough to drive home.
5) When we got back to BDP's place I REALLY wanted to eat something. The salad I had for dinner wasn't cutting it anymore. I made an oh-so-sophisticated PB & J sandwich. I didn't cut the bread in half, folded it over, pulled the crust off ('cause crust is yucky), then stuffed it in to my mouth in one big classy bite.
6) I laid down on the couch, "just for a little while," until I was okay to drive home.
7) I woke up maybe a half hour later with that familiar nauseous feeling in my stomach. Acting on instinct, I ran to the bathroom.
8) I went back to sleep on the couch again, pleased with myself for making it to the bathroom. I decided to perhaps lay around for another hour or so until I felt okay to drive.
9) Then...the sun was up. It was 8am. I was lying on the couch, still in my halter dress, with no blanket and very cold. My contacts were still in and my eyes were so dry I could barely see anything. BDP's two cats were lying on the back of the couch watching me. They had inquisitive looks that seemed to say, "What is this hussy with mascara smeared eyes and a boob hanging out doing on our couch?"
There's nothing like a 30th birthday celebration to make you feel like a 21 all over again.
So, we're all in our upper 20's or early 30's. That means we're adults and full of maturity, right? Well here are a few of the things that went down Friday night that might suggest otherwise...
1) We didn't pay attention to any of the warnings we all know about in regards to what alcohols one shouldn't mix together.
2) In following with item #1, we had margaritas with dinner, followed by champagne, then a fruity Chambord shot, then a tequila shot, then our regular vodka based cocktails, and then beer. Oh, and then another shot. I don't remember what that shot was. Go figure.
3) At the last bar (TUG) I actually found myself asking: "Liquor before beer, in the clear, right?"
4) On the stumbling walk home, I actually thought that I was maybe sober enough to drive home.
5) When we got back to BDP's place I REALLY wanted to eat something. The salad I had for dinner wasn't cutting it anymore. I made an oh-so-sophisticated PB & J sandwich. I didn't cut the bread in half, folded it over, pulled the crust off ('cause crust is yucky), then stuffed it in to my mouth in one big classy bite.
6) I laid down on the couch, "just for a little while," until I was okay to drive home.
7) I woke up maybe a half hour later with that familiar nauseous feeling in my stomach. Acting on instinct, I ran to the bathroom.
8) I went back to sleep on the couch again, pleased with myself for making it to the bathroom. I decided to perhaps lay around for another hour or so until I felt okay to drive.
9) Then...the sun was up. It was 8am. I was lying on the couch, still in my halter dress, with no blanket and very cold. My contacts were still in and my eyes were so dry I could barely see anything. BDP's two cats were lying on the back of the couch watching me. They had inquisitive looks that seemed to say, "What is this hussy with mascara smeared eyes and a boob hanging out doing on our couch?"
There's nothing like a 30th birthday celebration to make you feel like a 21 all over again.
posted by Follow the Frog at 10:20 AM
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