I prided myself in college for my deep connection with my Irish roots and the way I could hold my alcohol. Whether or not I was fun to hang out with, I’ll let my college friends attest to, but I had no problem closing down a bar and waking up relatively hang-over free. I’m guessing they had a pretty good time too.
I’ve often heard the age old saying “I’m no spring chicken” or “I just can’t party like I used to” and felt terrible for whomever made such an admittance. I would never be that person. At least not until I was gainfully employed with a dreamy doctor husband and perfect children and didn’t have time to over indulge in tequila shots because of my successful Doggie Daycare side business and fabulous dinner parties.
And I was wrong.
I hate being wrong. Especially in situations like this. I didn’t open my eyes until noon yesterday because I said ‘yes’ to Fireball shots on Wednesday night. At one time- Fireball only whispered temptations in my ears and introduced me to one of my best friends, Digornio Rising Crust. Now, it comes through like a Mac truck and I’m the pavement.
The only thing worse than a vicious hangover is checking your phone the next morning. When you’re in the early stages of dating is when it’s the worst. Incoherent text messages. Outgoing calls. Outgoing calls long enough to imply you left a voicemail. Ouch. You can only use the excuse ‘oh I meant to call (insert name that begins with the same initial- ideally another guy to make them jealous- even though they’re probably just freaked out- here) and must have hit the wrong name!’ So many times.
Pictures can also be dangerous. Especially if you take photos with your girlfriends in the bathroom of the bar and your drunk eyes see the most gorgeous woman in the world so you decide you should send it to any and all potential suitors out there. Like the following. To my knowledge this wasn’t sent out, due to all of our lack of potential suitors- but I hate bathroom selfies in real life. I hate selfies in general. And taking a picture in the bathroom is just stupid. But apparently, my drunk alter ego deemed this the ideal way to celebrate a triple crown win- notice It was so exciting that I’m still holding soap- TAKE IT RIGHT NOW WE ARE EVEN MORE BEAUTIFUL BEFORE WE WASH OUR HANDS!!
I guess I’m just sad because I thought I would at least carry my strong tolerance through my 20s. And it isn’t going to happen. But maybe it’s for the best. I’ll cut back on drunk dials and silly selfies and harsh hangovers. I guess I’m just not the girl I used to be. I blame you entirely, Fireball.