Weekend Trips

So I’m awake at freaking 2:30am because I literally slept all day. My hangover cure in college was to eat something and then run like a crazy fucking person until I no longer felt sick… yeah these days? I’m too old for that shit, so I sleep until the middle of the afternoon.

This weekend my friend Jon visited me. First… can I just say that when you have a friend that you know so well and you guys get together for a reunion of types… it’s a freaking disaster. I mean, he lands on Friday at 4:00pm, and by 7:30pm I’m already pretty drunk. I can’t remember if it was the jello shots that we had walking back to my place from the liquor store or the three rounds of mystery beer* we played or the solid bottle of champagne that we tossed back before dinner… or maybe it was like 4 shots of Frangelico that we had after dinner. It could also be the massive pitcher of Framboise or the four Jack and Cokes that I had…. but by midnight I was pretty tanked.

I woke up on Saturday, and felt pretty okay. I had some food, napped, and played with my dog. I felt alright. Jon and I then proceeded to go to brunch. Then a movie. The movie theatre has a bar. A freaking BAR. I mean, it’s pretty much the definition of awesome. So we go to a 2:30pm showing of Project X… which I felt like kind of a creep in. It’s a movie about a bunch of high school students having this crazy party. Gratuitous boob scenes of said underage kids. I mean really… I love boobs like anyone else but there is nothing like realizing the boobs you’re like “YEAHHH BOOBS” are probably 16 year old boobs. Creeper status. We drink a bottle of wine during the movie. And while we wait, we have a cocktail. Then we have some more cocktails at the fancy bar that just opened in the fancy 4 seasons hotel. And then drunkenly make reservations at some random Mexican place. Where you proceed to order 2 flights of tequila. And meet up with some random friends at another bar. Order baby guiness shots… and by 8:30pm the bartender has cut you and your friends off because you all have ordered 15 shots in 30 minutes. The bartender chastises you for being so drunk at 8:30 and tells you all to cool it. To which Jon shouts back… YOU CUT ME OFF?! I WILL PUKE IN YOUR BAR….. ummmm okay?

Cut to the next bar, and after tossing back 3 more shots each – the bartender is like. Dudes. Ya’ll have to chill.

Fuzzy on the details after but I woke up Sunday feeling like a bar floor. My hair was pasted to the side of my face, my makeup was in 100 different places on my bed, and Jon is sprawled like an unruly child next to me. Before we both realize that he has got to get his ass in gear to make his flight at 6:15am. OMFG. I manage to hustle the boy out the door and pass right back out.

But as I wallowed in my super hungover state thinking “omfg i need to barf or die or something” I thought about my relationship with Jon. First? I mean, we’ve known each other forever… since college. But it always amazes my friends that there is absolutely nothing going on between us. I mean the kid sleeps right next to me, but nothing ever happens. It’s like snuggling up with your favorite, but very drunk puppy.

Also. Can I mention that no matter which one of my male friends visits, they all do the same things???? First. The shower curtain. I mean for crying out loud, the liner gets tucked in and the curtain doesn’t. They all tuck both into the tub and I end up with my shower curtain sopping SOPPING wet. Ew. And Second. The little piles of change. I know men hate having changing jangling around their pockets, but for the love of god. DO NOT LEAVE YOUR CHANGE IN MY HOUSE. As I swept up my apartment, Jon literally left three little piles of change. We didn’t pay cash for ANYTHING so where in the hell is all the damned change coming from?!

Ugh. I might need to vomit. Not from being hungover, but from the massive quantity of pizza that I managed to scarf down this afternoon.

 

*Mystery beer you say? What the fuck is mystery beer? Mystery beer is the world’s greatest downfall of drinking games. It involves you asking the bar tender to swap out a shot of whiskey in a whole tray of longneck beers. Then you proceed to shuffle and everyone in your group grabs a bottle and chugs. The winner is the person that realizes they have the shot of whiskey in their beer. Only problem? You don’t know until you’re about 5 seconds into chugging your beer. It’s like shotgunning a beer and chasing it with whiskey. Or chasing your whiskey shots with beer.

 

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