A Quarter Life Crisis

Last night is a bit of a blur stemming from the intake of several alcoholic beverages which landed me in prayer to the porcelain gods of Mr. Flushy. Yes I know it's not a good look for a 27 (using my real age on the blog shows progression) year old woman. Normally I am uber responsible, so responsible that people who missed the event probably won't believe I actually tripped over my brother's feet as he lay sprawled across the king size bed at the Westin.

Side note I included a few pictures from the party in collage form. Before hand I designated myself the partography coordinator but I failed in that position by early evening due in large part to the Ciroc, or the 151 or the Grey Goose. Maybe it was just a combination of the three. Oh one must not leave out the Champange, complimentary from the hotel. The sippage started at check-in, who knew I'd be greeted with a little flute of the devil's juice?

Most of my closest friends were in attendance to see the lush I became in a matter of a few short hours. By 11ish I entered the land of total oblivion. Good thing Nurse Friend was on staff in case of true emergency.

For some reason besides being overly friendly, extra flirty and dropping F-bombs like running water, I also have a tendency to throw things. I guess that's better than being a loud sloppy want to fight everyone crying drunk? The Best Friend claims, OK she's telling the truth, that I threw a pack of AA batteries at her. Not sure why she's complaining, granted I threw a pack of AA batteries at her but it missed her face, no harm no foul. By close of night I'd thrown, a closed package of strudel(it didn't get on the walls or carpet), pretzels, chips, a few cups and of course the package of AA batteries. No lights were hurt during my pitching tests.

Some time during the night I lost my cell phone but like magic found it just in time to send miss spelled text messages to folks who didn't make the soiree. I blame Nurse and the Best Friend for not paying closer attention to my actions after the consumption of so much alcohol. I'm grateful that no dialing took place.

Even better than no drunk dialing, my intoxication was somewhat contained. Concerns from the evening:

• What did I say when hugged up with The Godfather
• Did I make plans to watch football this Sunday with 21 Jump street (there's a reminder in my cell)
• Was that guy really 20 (shakes and holds head down in shame)

Next year I will be the designated friend keeping tabs instead of the strudel chucking slightly fumbling drunkard.

P.S. I hope everyone else had as much fun as I did minus the dry heave.