Things I Think I Can Do When Wasted

I was a shitshow at blogger happy hour two weeks ago. A complete, and utter SHITSHOW.

After vomitando-ing up the delicious pizza, eight glasses of wine, one martini and one lemon drop shot I had consumed, one would think I'd be ready to call it a night. (Mind you, it wasn't even 11 p.m. at this point.)

Not so much.

For starters, while The Hoff attempted to hail us a cab, I proceeded to jump over a huge mound of snow. But instead of jumping feet first, I decided it would be much more effective if I soared, a la Superwoman style, over the block of slush/ice. I later asked why my hands were scraped and covered in dirt.

When The Hoff and I finally got into a cab, I started making small talk with the cab driver. "I promise not to puke in your car, Mr. Cab Driver, sir" were my first words to the poor soul chauffeuring us home.

Next, I asked him where he was from and begged him to teach me his language. He said Afghanistan. Side note: Is that language called Afghan? I have no idea. (I know, I know-typical ignorant American.)

Apparently, I butchered everything the guy tried to teach me, and I definitely don't remember any of it. But at least Mr. Cab Driver, sir was a good sport and didn't throw me out the first block of the ride.

One would think that at this point I would go upstairs and pass out. Logic isn't part of the wasted Miss Procras' repertoire.

The Hoff's roommates were up drinking, and I deemed it absolutely necessary to join in the fun. When The Hoff would hand me a glass of water, I'd immediately start scavenging around for a beer. Didn't matter if I picked up an empty bottle or someone else's beer, so long as I had one in my hand.

I then harassed his one roommate long enough that he let me play Call of Duty on Xbox live. Now, I've never played this game nor Xbox 360. The guy on the other end of the Xbox antennae was trying to help me, but I had my own agenda.

"Let's kill some bitches in this plane! I know they're in there!" (FYI-it was a helicopter not a plane, and it was completely empty.)

Somehow, I managed to stay up til 3 p.m. watching "Training Day" with one eye open. Anyone else have trouble watching t.v. while wasted? I'm incapable of not seeing double unless I keep one eye closed.

Note to self for future drunken occurences: I can't fly like superwoman, learn a foreign language, play Xbox games or watch television. Damn, what CAN you do when intoxicated???

A Day of Monumental Events

Today not only marks the birthday of your beloved Miss Procras, but also the anniversary of the day I met The Hoff. He had me at, “You know, we really have a lot in common.” Such a smooth talker, that Hoff. I have to say though, he’s the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten. (Cue the sappy music.)

To celebrate, a group of my nearest and dearest are going to a Huey Lewis and the News concert. Not gonna lie, I really don’t know many of their songs, but you better believe I’ll be rocking out, pretending to be showing off my mad Marty McFly skateboarding skills when they play “Power of Love.”

Mr. Lewis will be performing at one of my all-time favorite concert venues. It’s outdoors, and you can bring all the food and alcohol you’d like. I think more concert venues need to adopt this attitude. I’m sick of paying $11 for a flat, warm beer to keep my buzz going throughout an entire concert.

I’ll probably end up regretting this, but my plan is to drink wine all night. I’m 25 now – I need to at least pretend I’m classy.

If tonight goes anything like the last time I drank my weight in wine, I think I may be considered a candidate for VH1’s Charm School. You gotta dream big.

Full report of the night’s events tomorrow, pending I’m still alive/functioning.

Decisions, Decisions part 2

Yiles-ola. Didn’t realize it had been a week since I’ve posted.

I know you’ve been on the edge of your seats waiting for the conclusion of The Hoff’s birthday saga. (Major sarcasm there.) I don’t want to bore you all to tears, so I’ll just go with the condensed version.

I did end up going to his birthday celebration last Wednesday. Solo. I must have called 15 people to come with me but they were either working (overachievers) or still recuperating from Memorial Day weekend (lightweights.) I kid, I kid.

But the night actually went really well. No looks of disgust, no cold shoulders. If The Hoff’s friends hate me, they sure did a good job of hiding it.

Only awkward part of the evening was meeting some of The Hoff’s co-workers. They were both really nice, but they had no idea about our situation so they assumed I was just a friend.

Exhibit A: When I handed The Hoff his birthday card (with gift tucked inside), one of them said, “Oh, you’re so cute – you brought a card.”

Exhibit B: Same girl later introduced me to another co-worker as The Hoff’s friend. I wanted to correct her, but I wasn’t sure how to label myself, so I kept my mouth shut.

Other highlights of the evening:

-The Hoff really liked his gift. I got him tix to a Pats game and he’s never been to one so he’s pretty pumped.

-The Hoff (jokingly) demanded that his co-worker’s fiance buy him a shot when he arrived. He obliged buy purchasing The Hoff a bourbon shot, which sent him over the edge.

-I had to basically carry the birthday boy back to my car. We didn’t even make it out of the parking garage before I had to pull over so he could vomitando .

TMI play-by-play:
The Hoff immediately passes out when he gets in the car.
All of the sudden, I hear gurgling sounds.
Miss Procras: Are you gonna get sick?
The Hoff: (after jolting straight up, eyes wide open. YES!!”
So I pull over, right before the parking attendant booth, and was both amazed and relieved that The Hoff managed to avoid getting puke in my car. At least he has good aim, even when completely shitfaced.

- When we got back to The Hoff’s house, he disappeared to the bathroom for a while. When I went to check on him, I found him planted face-first in the sink. Wish I had a photo of that shining moment.

-Coerced The Hoff to move from the sink to his bed, placing a trashcan right next to him. Not two seconds later, the gurgling sounds start again so I shoved the trashcan in his face for vomitando round 2.

…a very successful 24th birthday if I do say so myself.