Guess what, internet?! Yesterday was my birthday! Let me tell you--31 is not impressing me thus far. What really sucks about it, is that it's all my fault. Totally. Well, vodka had a lot to do with it, so if I see anyone with a nametag that says, "HI, MY NAME IS Vodka," I'll kick their ass. I had such big plans for my birthday. Such big plans.
When's the last time you went to a bachelorette party? I don't remember when. But from what people say, I went to one on Thursday. I'm ashamed to say, that I got stupid drunk. Oh yes. I did. I proceeded to drink as much as I have ever drank in my life, and then was forced into the consequences on Friday. Happy Frickin Birthday to you--here's your hangover. I have NEVER had to say this before, but I'm saying it now: I will never drink that much again. NEVER. I can't believe that some people get that drunk on a regular basis--WHY? Do they LIKE hangovers? Cripes.
I called my husband at 330am, and I don't know why, but he didn't answer the phone. He was doing something crazy...like sleeping. So, I left him a message. I believe I said something to the effect of, "I'm home [at my mom's], I didn't drink too much, but i'm not good to drive. I'm sorry, I'll see you tomorrow morning." I went to bed at 4, woke up at 7, and drove home. I slept on the floor of mom's guest room--I let my sister and her best friend have the bed--wasn't that nice?
I've realized that the horror of drinking that much comes on slowly, much like a stealthy cat. I went from, "I didn't have that much to drink," to "Oh, yea...I forgot about that one..." to "Eeeeee, there were shots involved..." It's frightening. Again, it was Vodka and her sly sister tonic that did me in. So, actually, this drunken massacre was the fault of my best friend, Angel. Damn, damn you Angel! If you wouldn't have introduced me to the beauty of vodka tonics, i'm sure I would have gingerly sipped on ice water all night. Now that that's settled...
The party was a blast. I've never seen so many penises in my life. There's a whole line of penis partyware! Can you believe? It's like dirty tupperware. We were eating chips out of a penis-shaped bowl, we had a penis-shaped cake (complete with brown coconut pubic region), penis straws, penis cups--penis everything. There were even edible, penis candy necklaces. Oh, my virgin eyes. The limo picked us up at 10, and took us to this local club that the bride loves. There was drinking and dancing and eating-of-the-penis-necklaces, and more drinking. We left at 2am, when the club shut down, and people were yelling, "You and all your phallic-symbol-wearing friends, get out!" Not really, but that would have been funny.
The limo guy took us home, wherein he was probably bombarded with more penis-speak than he was comfortable with. But there were these cards, and they had naked men on them! With penis'! It was really kind of scary, so there was a lot of frightened screaming in the back of that limo. So, the penis extravaganza came to an end around 3am, and we all went to sleep.
I climbed out of my make-shift bed at 7am, hobbled past the penis punching bag that was lying in the middle of the floor, drank some water out of a penis-cup, and went home. I drove home in my pajamas. Thank God I have tinted windows, because I looked ROUGH.
I got home, turned on my laptop, and worked all day. How good is that?! I'm SUCH A DEDICATED EMPLOYEE THAT IT WAS MY BIRTHDAY, I HAD A HANGOVER, AND I WORKED! I should get a raise for that kind of dedication. At around 400, i started to feel a bit better, so I went and picked up the kiddo from preschool. Don't worry...I got out of my jammies and brushed my hair.
My mom offered to watch the girls that night, so we could go out with friends and not have to worry about getting home at a reasonable hour. Well, I felt like incredible crap, but we went out anyways. Me and Scott, and our very good friends went to a jazz cafe downtown. It was very nice, the food was incredibly tasty, and the jazz band was nice. Then, I ruined the night because I wanted to go home and go to bed. I'm such a party pooper. But let me tell you---that was the BEST decision I've made all week. I was in bed by 1130, and slept like a rock. Woke up at 815 without any small bodies in my bed, no peepee diaper by my head, no little feet in my ribcage--I kind of missed it.
So anyways, internet, I am 31.