You know that feeling when you wake up and wonder how you got home and why every single cell in your body feels like it's dying? Wait, what did you say? You're a responsible young adult and you never drink too much. Well, that can't be fun. Except for avoiding the hangover part.
Forewarning for this blog post: if you are actually a responsible adult or my mother, you will probably frown upon my behavior and be tsk-tsking me into oblivion. Sorry, I'm not that sorry.
Needless to say, I am young and I like to go out with my friends. Apparently my body doesn't agree with me though, because it thinks I'm 50 years old and need an entire day following my excessive alcohol consumption to recover. I'm sure spending that recovery day in an Indian food cook-off with my brown friends as a treat for their Danish friends doesn't really help speed the recovery, though. (That's a whole nother story and, probably much to your dismay, I won't get too much into it. Except me and mah girls definitely made the better dish, and got to enjoy the beauty of foreign men whilst consuming our savory meal. Booyah!)
A recap of events that occurred (and that I remember) from my Saturday night include, but are most definitely not limited to:
- getting 'iced' by a friend immediately upon arrival at the place of pre-gaming
- chugging a freshly opened beer because our cab arrived ridiculously fast (I swear the driver was already outside before my friend hung up his phone... he probably worked at Jimmy John's before becoming a cab driver)
- riding on the lap of a friend of a friend (she's awesome) at an awkward angle on the way to the bar in the front seat of the cab because we had too many people
- having a creepy conversation with our freaky fast cab driver on various explicit topics
- devouring cheese curds, 2 vodka lemonades, 2 rum and cokes, a jaegerbomb & irish car bomb (aka a bear fight) within 2 hours
- arriving at the next bar
Note that I do not remember anything after arriving at the second watering hole. I'm sure it was fun, and that I had a lovely time, but apparently I walked home alone whilst blacked out. I'm alive, so that's good, but having a college education clearly doesn't stop me from making potentially disastrous decisions. However, I do vaguely remember having a conversation with some people at a crosswalk and exclaiming "I love my children" repeatedly. I don't remember mentioning that this was in reference to the kids I work with, so they probably all thought I was a horrible mother that was avoiding parenting by getting smashed.
Alas, I awoke the next morning and took a solid 20 minutes before moving a muscle, probably because I couldn't. My thoughts immediately strayed to my purse and jacket, hoping that all of their contents were intact. Upon a first inspection, I was upset with myself over $40 missing from my wallet. There was still $15 inside, so my hazy confusion was especially great. I thought maybe I dropped it after pulling it out to pay for something or maybe someone took it, or maybe I just went batshit crazy and spent $40 at the bar.
An hour later I reached for my gum in said party purse (probably hoping the mint would sooth my pounding head), and low and behold, my $40 was safely tucked in next to Shawn White's face (I have an addiction to the Stride Whitemint gum with the redheaded athlete, whom I can't decide is attractive or not). How my cash ended up next to my minty sticks of deliciousness will always be a mystery to me, but I have a conspiracy theory that I was so drunk I probably tried to pay little cardboard Shawn White's face to take me on a real date.
Oh, the majesty of alcohol.
P.S. Be better than me and don't drink past your blackout limit. It's probably not a good idea.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Creep
My cat is a creeper. Simple as that.
There is a small gap between my bed and the wall because of the heater running the length of the baseboard. While laying in bed, I'll see a little head pop up occasionally, which scares the bejesus out of me, although I really should be used to it by now. I also have my phone charger plugged into that wall, and a little paw always reaches up and tries to pull it out. She is probably going to cause me to have a dead phone several times. Either that, or she'll get electrocuted and I'll have a dead cat instead. One is slightly more preferable.
She also learned how to get all the way to the top of the kitchen cabinets. I can't wait for the day when she just pounces on someone's head. Ok, maybe I can wait, because it might be me.
The worst is when I take a shower. She perches on the edge of the tub between the fabric shower curtain, and the plastic liner. If I happen to get too close while singing and soaping up, I get pummeled by little paws through the liner. I might as well be staying at the Bates Motel. At least evolution reassures me that I don't have to worry about her wielding a knife due to her lack of opposable thumbs.
Needless to say, I will probably have a myocardial infarction (or heart attack, for those of you who thought I just said something rudely inappropriate) because of this little peeping tom.
There is a small gap between my bed and the wall because of the heater running the length of the baseboard. While laying in bed, I'll see a little head pop up occasionally, which scares the bejesus out of me, although I really should be used to it by now. I also have my phone charger plugged into that wall, and a little paw always reaches up and tries to pull it out. She is probably going to cause me to have a dead phone several times. Either that, or she'll get electrocuted and I'll have a dead cat instead. One is slightly more preferable.
She also learned how to get all the way to the top of the kitchen cabinets. I can't wait for the day when she just pounces on someone's head. Ok, maybe I can wait, because it might be me.
 |
| Exhibit A: creeping from on high |
The worst is when I take a shower. She perches on the edge of the tub between the fabric shower curtain, and the plastic liner. If I happen to get too close while singing and soaping up, I get pummeled by little paws through the liner. I might as well be staying at the Bates Motel. At least evolution reassures me that I don't have to worry about her wielding a knife due to her lack of opposable thumbs.
Needless to say, I will probably have a myocardial infarction (or heart attack, for those of you who thought I just said something rudely inappropriate) because of this little peeping tom.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Where Do We Go From Here
This being my very first post on my very first blog, I believe it would be rude of me not to give the world (aka you) a small look into my current life (although if you're reading this, you probably know me... you poor thing, you).
Well, I am just a small town girl, living in a lonely world. But really. I am a recent graduate of the majestic University of Wisconsin - Madison, with a few big dreams (some very, very intangible) and the expectation that I will eventually fulfill them all. I'm single, in my early 20's, and basically always ready for a good time, whether it involves Carly Rae Jepsen and Owl City, or not. I live with two of my awesome guy friends and I'm a mom to a fluffy, adorable (and ridiculously needy) kitty. Her name is Ella, the dudemates call her 'dog'. Meh.
I work with kids, elementary through high school, and they are always teaching me new things. I am positive that I will have a plethora of posts about my experiences with them in the future, because kids say the darnedest things. However, I ultimately want to attend grad school to become a physician assistant, and I might throw a master's of public health in there, too. Did I mention I was a German major in college? My life is a hodgepodge of my personality. I'm not sure if that's good or bad yet, but I haven't been too disappointed so far.
I decided to start a blog because I have a lot of random thoughts in my head, and funny stories to tell about my daily life. I'm not sure what kind of posts my brain will tell my hands to type, some of them might be more serious and completely lacking in delivering you the kind of enjoyment that the comics section of the newspaper does. Hopefully, I can ultimately make you giggle once or twice while you read, because I live to make other people laugh. I also hope to help you feel like less of a douchecanoe in your own life, as I am a pretty substantial one myself. Basically, if you enjoy reading what I write, carry on with your visual absorption of my thoughts. If not, then you are an actual robot that wasn't programmed to love.
Well, that's me in a nutshell (not a literal one, of course... I'm not a fan of small, dark spaces).
P.S. If you are still reading, kudos to you, for you have not yet overdosed on Molly (me or the drug).
Well, I am just a small town girl, living in a lonely world. But really. I am a recent graduate of the majestic University of Wisconsin - Madison, with a few big dreams (some very, very intangible) and the expectation that I will eventually fulfill them all. I'm single, in my early 20's, and basically always ready for a good time, whether it involves Carly Rae Jepsen and Owl City, or not. I live with two of my awesome guy friends and I'm a mom to a fluffy, adorable (and ridiculously needy) kitty. Her name is Ella, the dudemates call her 'dog'. Meh.
I work with kids, elementary through high school, and they are always teaching me new things. I am positive that I will have a plethora of posts about my experiences with them in the future, because kids say the darnedest things. However, I ultimately want to attend grad school to become a physician assistant, and I might throw a master's of public health in there, too. Did I mention I was a German major in college? My life is a hodgepodge of my personality. I'm not sure if that's good or bad yet, but I haven't been too disappointed so far.
I decided to start a blog because I have a lot of random thoughts in my head, and funny stories to tell about my daily life. I'm not sure what kind of posts my brain will tell my hands to type, some of them might be more serious and completely lacking in delivering you the kind of enjoyment that the comics section of the newspaper does. Hopefully, I can ultimately make you giggle once or twice while you read, because I live to make other people laugh. I also hope to help you feel like less of a douchecanoe in your own life, as I am a pretty substantial one myself. Basically, if you enjoy reading what I write, carry on with your visual absorption of my thoughts. If not, then you are an actual robot that wasn't programmed to love.
Well, that's me in a nutshell (not a literal one, of course... I'm not a fan of small, dark spaces).
P.S. If you are still reading, kudos to you, for you have not yet overdosed on Molly (me or the drug).
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