I become extremely relaxed and somber after I've had a few. (Unless Britney is playing, then my ass is prancing around like a hooker on crack.)
But once I hit the point of no return, I have a habit of passing out in inappropriate places. Actual examples:
-Underneath a table at a bar on New Years Eve.
-On the ledge of a stage (please note: a band was performing while I was zonked out. I'm sure I did wonders for their confidence.)
-On a picnic table in the middle of a vineyard surrounded by families enjoying their lunch (as they watched me puke up mine.)
-A bathroom stall in a frat house...while still sitting on the toilet.
Thankfully, I have friends/babysitters who keep me from drowning, getting thrown out of bars, arrested, etc. Lo keeps joking that she's going to get me a leash or a tracking device for when we go out.
My most shining moment as of late? The quarter-century birthday extravaganza.
I meant to post a recap sooner, but we all now punctuality isn't my thing, so better late than never. :)
Needless to say, it was a succesful night. Good friends, good food, good tunes and most importantly, my wine glass was never empty.
After killing a bottle of pinot with SayJo and pounding the large juice-box shaped container of wine Biggie Smalls brought me, I was good to go. And quite appalled when the concert was over and the attendants began kicking people out of the venue.
I demanded, I mean, politely suggested, that we continue drinking at my apartment. I just wasn't ready for the party to stop.
Fast forward ten mintues later. Badass Roomie graciously served as our DD. I decided I needed to repay her by helping her drive. And by helping her drive I mean impending her ability to shift gears.
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