Saturday, November 28, 2009

Getting Older and Not-So-Much Wiser


Sooooo.... I want to talk about my birthday that I celebrated 2 weeks back. I turned the big 2-7. Ugh. I really would have been thrilled if we all just stopped counting after 25. 25 was just fine. Can't we just stick with what works?

Maybe part of my beef with turning 27 is the fact that I still easily pass for 19. That, in itself, annoys me to no end.

But I digress....

My boyfriend came up on a Friday night and I made us dinner. Spaghetti.
While I was cooking our spaghetti and waiting on him to arrive, I popped open a bottle of red and played some cheesy Italian music (you know the kind you find in your music channels on tv?). I had my second glass of wine with dinner. No harm done, right? Little did I know, he brought a bottle of tequila and we wanted to try it, so we toasted to my birthday. No, I didn't NEED a shot but I took one anyway. My birthday, dammit.

An hour after dinner, I had a splitting headache. I wrote it off as just being sleepy, so we went to bed. The next morning I unwilling got my butt out of bed and baked us some blueberry muffins, feeling like crap the whole time but trying not to be grumpy because I really like to be a good hostess when he's here.

Fast forward a few hours. I still feel like hell, but we have a big night planned for my birthday that night. He got us a hotel room downtown so that we could have a great time and not worry about driving home that night. A very nice surprise :) But instead of getting dolled up as I would normally do, I put on a track suit and dragged my disheveled and unshowered self out the door and he drove us downtown to our hotel.

20 minutes into our drive, I come THIS close to losing my muffins all over the car. But, I make it to the hotel and we check in and I sit on the bed holding my upset tummy. Fun date I am.

Fast forward an hour. My man goes on a wild goose chase to find me some Alka-Seltzer, which ended up being about a 3 block walk down the street from our hotel. I take the Alka-Seltzer and luckily it really helps. So then I finally get showered and dressed and hit my favorite outdoor bar. Whoo!

I promised myself I would have a good time no matter how I felt. So I had a few drinks at my favorite bar. Then more people started showing up and things got a bit more silly. Perfect! :) By then I've had about 4 drinks. Nothing crazy, nothing unusual, but enough to feel it. As people started leaving, he and I left with another couple who took us to 2 more bars, where (apparently) I had a Red Bull & vodka drink at each bar. No biggie. Nothing horribly unusual.

Next thing I know, I wake up in my hotel bed and have ZERO recollection of anything past the piano bar. Yikes. I'm ashamed to admit that because I don't think it's safe or normal. Thank God I was with my boyfriend, who I trust completely to take care of me. And he did.

(side note: I NEVER get sick after drinking. The worst I ever experience is a headache and/or dehydration.)

After my boyfriend explains to me what I "missed" last night, I roll my happy, hung-over butt out of bed and go throw up. I do that three more times in the hotel. Then we leave the hotel, and I throw up twice in my brand new car.

Awesome.

My parents had my cake and presents ready and awaiting my arrival and it was all I could do to not throw up on all of it. I put on a smile for b-day pictures, but in my head I was just repeating, "Please don't puke, please don't puke..." But I successfully blew out my candles and everyone gobbled up the world's yummiest cake. Everyone but me. (Waaahhh!!)

My point of this way-too-long story is that:
a) I am an idiot who drank too much on her 27th birthday, OR
b) I was already sick to begin with, and drinking didn't help, OR
c) All of the above

Happy 25th....er....27th to me! My goal for this year: Don't be an idiot ;)


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