My friend C had a birthday last weekend. Her fiance K had planned a dinner out at a wonderful restaurant. They'd gotten through appetizers and their entrees when he was called into work. Bummer. C said she was pouty for about 6 minutes and then ordered dessert to go. She texted D and I to see if we wanted to celebrate with her. Always ready for a good time, we said yes, however we were still out to dinner ourselves. Ever the optimist and not about to sit around twiddling her thumbs, C went to get a margarita and waited for us.
D & I quickly finished dinner and then went to get emergency birthday party supplies. What does one need for an emergency birthday party, you ask? Ice, margarita mix, a lime and tequila. What did you think I was going to say?
We called a few friends, got them to come over, told C we were home and voila! Instant birthday party.
The following details are a bit fuzzy, but the gist of it is, we drank. A lot. I was working on my tasty beverage--a Red-Headed Slut--after killing the bottle of Jaeger when C showed up. D was making margaritas, so I had to hurry. I slammed my drink and moved on to the frozen concoctions.
Here is where I plug my blender. D and I registered for a KitchenAid mamma-jamma blender for our wedding even though our blender "worked." We ended up receiving the KitchenAid as a gift, but hadn't actually used it yet. Holy crap. This sucker is amazing. It was all slushy and perfect--like a restaurant margarita. It's amazing how much better those things are when made with the appropriate blender (and don't even get me started on the milkshakes I made last night).
So after 2 margaritas, we decided to play my new favorite Wii game (yes, Just Dance--I'm still obsessed). C had introduced me to it and we had a mild dance off, during which our friend E came over. A few more margaritas later, we had danced enough and were off to stumble down the street to the most dive of dive bars where a friend, S, was bartender that night. We go in, she's surprised, and then the wheels start to come off the bus. She makes us the strongest drinks I've ever had (getting back at the doorman for charging her friends' a cover) and then brings a round of shots. I believe some of my best statements included lines like, "I can't feel my lips. Are they still there?" and "Hey, let's text K!!"
Upon leaving the dive, we "walked" back up the hill to the house, where I decided to tell everyone to "SHHHHHHHH! IT'S LATE!" and "I keep falling down. How come my legs stopped working?" Surprisingly, I made it all the way home without inflicting bodily harm. Although I discovered I did lose my pedometer at some point--I can't imagine how that could have possibly happened.
So what do 4 drunk adults do when they get back into the house? Play Just Dance, of course. (Seriously, it's not just my obsession. Although I may or may not have already written a letter to Ubisoft explaining to them why I want my favorite songs in Just Dance, Vol. II, out by this holiday season.) Guess what--I'm not that good when I'm drunk either. But I'll bet you knew that.
I'm pretty sure I woke up at 7 am still drunk, evidenced by the number of walls I ran into en route to the bathroom. D and I dragged our sorry asses out of bed at 10 am to make a Dunkin' Donuts run and came back to enjoyed such bad for you, but good for the hangover treats like my Chocolate Stick and his Sausage, Egg and Cheese sandwich. And then at 10:30 am, D said the 5 little words that made me realize I'd married the perfect man, "I think it's nap time."
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