Let's talk about something else for a change. WARNING: GROSS BEHAVIOUR AHEAD!
I had my friend's stagette/shower last weekend. She was completely surprised because she thought that no way would I have one for her because my dog had died. But it had been planned for a while and frankly, it kept me busy and gave me a chance to take a break from moping around. We all agreed to do a spa/dinner/dancing event. The place was decorated, while I was frantically trying to make 6 molten lava cakes to be baked after dinner. A friend arranged to have two student aestheticians come and do pedicures, and then another friend was supposed to bring dinner (salmon) for a BBQ. Unfortunately, that particular woman had been ill and didn't arrive for several hours, so dinner started a bit late, but once it was done, it was delicious. We kept ourselves busy with pedicures and a LOT of booze. Okay, let's see mango martinis, cosmopolitans, wine, champagne......
Next up a limo ride with champagne. Woohoo! When was the last time you stood up in the sunroof of a limo in the cool night air hooting like an idiot? I admit it, I howled. OMG. Seemed like a good idea at the time. I felt like a drunken teenager at prom. It was really fun, champagne was consumed and we even had a little pit stop for those who wanted to get a little "air". Not me. Then off to a club where the bride to be (dressed all in white thanks to kidnapping some of her clothes earlier that week) toddled off to get a shooter from a bartender friend. We all would have gone in with her but unfortunately, they wanted a $12 cover a piece and we were planning only on staying for 15 minutes. One disgusting drink later, we jumped back into the limo and went a club that a friend of mine had put us on a list. Unfortunately, half of the gals left for various reasons and thus it was down to the mighty trio to finish out the night! We didn't have to wait in line but we did have to pay cover. $14! What the hell? We don't live in New York! This is why my club days are long over. They make you wait in line for an hour to get in to a half empty "trendy" club, pay an outrageous cover, and watch pretentious people not have fun. People actually started to dance after we cracked the floor open.
Well, two of us danced. The other girl beat a hasty retreat before she got messy. I would have given her my keys, but the likelihood of her passing out was pretty high and we would have no way of getting in. (She did make it safely home, no thanks to my drunk ass.) Just me and my gal pal left standing. We danced, had more drinks (no, just me) and we laughed and we eventually headed back to my place to devour some delicious chocolate molten lava cake.
At that point I thought it was a good idea to have a little "air" with my gal pal - BAD IDEA! BAD!, cause suddenly the room was spinning. Aww, I knew it was a bad idea! So I decided haul my drunken ass to bed. My stomach had other plans and I..... well.... let's just say I didn't keep my delicious dinner and dessert down. Ughh. I managed to stop up my bathroom sink. Seriously. As in when I woke up the next morning, it was still plugged up. That bad. Salsa bad. Ewww. As in not even boiling water, Drano or whatever noxious liquid (notwithstanding my own) I poured in there could fix it. I had to throw out a pair of plastic gloves, people.
This is why I refrain from serious over imbibing, but at least once a year, I forget my golden rule of not mixing my drinks and going over my limit. Mind you, I don't generally do it in public, but still. I ought to know better. Aw, fuck it, I was grieving.