2:00 PM- Alcohol is an evil evil substance. And I just want to thank all of the alcohol manufacturers for putting that oh so helpful warning label on their bottles about pregnant women and heavy machinery. Well where the hell is the label that reads- “Warning you may consume too much of this substance and act like an ass in front of a large group of strangers” or “Warning bartenders may mix this substance with some sweet, tasty drink resulting in you vomiting on your date”. Nowhere. Exactly my point. So I was really at the mercy of the fates when I went out last night. And let me tell you, boys and girls, the fates were NOT at all good to me. Alright so here’s the scoop…

Now to make a long story short, my night basically went like this:

-Two (2) beers

-One (1) cosmo

-One (1) vodka and coke

-One (1) more cosmo

and suddenly

-VOMIT.

Yep, that was it. I upchucked. Fortunately for me, I did make it to the bathroom; so I guess in the grand scheme of life, I did okay. Well at least, I thought I did okay.

Prior to continuing this story, I would like to say as a side note that I love having a roommate. She’s very supportive, helpful, and even occasionally cleans up my mess. That’s why it’s very hard to admit that this morning, I really wanted to kill her. You see the only saving grace of alcohol (which the other mind altering substances lack) is the fact that it allows you to forget everything embarrassing that you did the night before. Well unfortunately for me, my roommate was stone cold sober the whole night. And whereas, I remembered my night as a succession of alcohol, interrupted by an occasionally friendly conversation, and followed by a vomiting session, she was quick to add some more (not-so-necessary) details. Apparently, my night actually went like this:

-Four (4) beers

-Polite conversation

- One (1) cosmo

-Flirtatious conversation

-Two (2) vodka and cokes

- Belligerent remarks

-One (1) more cosmo

-fell off barstool

-grabbed host’s gay brother’s ass

-implied host was a ummm “busy” girl

-told bouncer he was “not-so- tough”

and not-so-suddenly-

VOMIT (multiple times).

So yeah, now I want to be dead. Do you think if I called up the FBI and asked them really really nicely, they’d let me enter the witness relocation program? Only for six months or so- just til this whole thing blows over…

*The completion of this rambling has been supervised by my roommate for accuracy purposes.