I went to an art gallery opening last night. Of course there was booze – a freaking open bar! I’m a liquor pansy. 2 drinks and I’m hella drunk. 3 drinks and I’m toast.
The girls and I had a great time. If the art wasn’t psycho expensive, I would have gone on a shopping spree because it’s the kind of stuff that I would want hanging on my walls. We sipped our beverages, commented on the art, and walked around. Everything was quite proper. We behaved like demure young women.
Then we sat down and that was a mistake. When you’re standing and drinking, you can feel pretty quickly how fucked up you are b/c stumbling starts to happen. I kept drinking cocktails. I thought I was fine. Then it was time to break the seal and head to the bathroom. I remember getting up and not being able to walk properly. Could you imagine if I took down a painting by falling on top of it?
That’s all I remember.
I woke up in bed this morning and asked my husband, “How did I get home?” He shook his head. I had to make the embarrassing phone calls this morning, “Hi, did I make an ass out of myself last night?” Thank gawd the answer was “NO.” Apparently I was a fun and happy drunk. Rock on!
Through conversations with my girls, I was filled in on the rest of the night. Things I forgot and totally do not remember at all:
- We made a 30 minute stop at Carl’s Jr. I didn’t eat anything. But we definitely went there.
- I came home and puked in the bathroom. I came out of the bathroom, looked at Eve and said, “puking sucks but at least I don’t have to worry about those calories.” So even WASTED I thought about my weight?? That disturbs me. I’m glad Eve told me I puked b/c I didn’t understand why I tasted bile in my mouth this morning as I brushed my teeth.
What a fucking blackout. Oh so not cool. I was safe. We had a designated driver. And I was in the company of some of my closest friends.
This morning I woke up at 7 am. I’m supposed to leave my house at 7. I brushed my teeth and ran out of the house by 7:03. It was a gorgeous sight – crusty mascara, smeared lipstick, I-just-fucked-crazy-wild hair and the world’s most frumpy outfit. As I drove to work, I wondered to myself why I couldn’t see. My left contact fell out in the middle of the night and I didn’t notice until I was driving. I stuck my hand in my make up bag (I would never leave home without it) I found an extra pair of disposable contacts. As I tried to avoid a car accident, I put the contact on my left eye.
Puking really helped. I have absolutely no hang over. I’m insanely tired.
