Tragic events

Quarter of a Century Celebration

This past Saturday, the 7th, it was my 25th birthday, as I said in my short previous post Birthday Preview. The plan was that my boyfriend, the Fab Five plus one husband and one date, the Quad Pod (which consists of myself, two sisters, and my best friend), and my sisters boyfriend were all going to the bars in downtown Huntington Beach. It was a perfect plan because my boyfriend lives about four miles from Main Street. Side note: speaking about my boyfriend, he did an amazing job with my birthday present! He got me a silver infinity necklace with diamonds on it, and guess where it was from?… JARED! I about died. I made the half joke that he wants to be with me forever because he gave me an infinity sign. He stared at me and said, “That’s what that means? Where’s the receipt!?” I just rolled my eyes at him.

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Anyways, everyone met down at his apartment around 5. We hung out and drank for a couple hours then headed downtown to eat and start the night. We piled into two cars. The plan was to leave them down there and take a cab back. Dinner was amazing at Aloha Grill, mostly for the rainbows. A rainbow is this amazing drink that consists of about six different slushy type drinks with ten different alcohols. Yes we counted off the menu. These drinks were a good kick start to our buzz. Dinner was great, but then I took a bite of my roomie’s chili cheese fries and dropped one down the front of my top, which was white of course. I literally drenched the whole front of my top in the restroom with cold water to try to get the chili out. It faded for the most part, but now I had a wet, white shirt…great.

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When dinner was done we headed to the first actual bar. It was an Irish pub type bar my boyfriend likes, called Killarney’s, because it has cheap drinks and apparently no matter how drunk you are, they will let you stumble on is anyways. This is where it started. I started off cool with a cranberry vodka. We were all just gathered around a table talking. Then my best friend orders her, my sisters, and myself a shot. It was a “Washington Apple” and was pretty good aside from the fact that it burned. Not too long later we had ANOTHER shot, this time a “Cactus Cooler”. Those are really good. Need I remind you all though as I have said in previous posts, I don’t really drink that often (#twototipsy), and I was now a pregame drink, a large, ten alcohol full rainbow, a cranberry vodka, and two shots in. This was almost three times my two drink limit.

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Everyone else was starting to get drunk too, especially my little sister. These two guys were talking to the girls in our group, not in a creepy way at all though, they seemed enjoyable. One asked my name and I told them it was Brittany. He couldn’t hear me so he thought I said Becky. I tried to correct him and he still couldn’t hear so he said he was just going to call me Becky. My intoxicated self thought it was funny, but my intoxicated little sister did not take this lightly. She retorted, “No,” With her wait a minute finger stance, “Her name is Brittany and you will call her by her real name.” BOOM. We all just stared and laughed. The guy tried a lame pick up line on one of the girls and they said to try it on my little sister and he said, “No she is aggressive.” Who knew my little sister was feisty while drinking. Give her a few and she becomes a women’s rights activist. VOTES FOR WOMEN!
Eventually we were done being Irish and left the pub for another bar. **Just a side note for the whole night, my ID expired on my birthday and I renewed it four weeks prior and it still didn’t come and STILL hasn’t, resulting in me having to use my passport to get into the bars which holds one of the worst pictures of my entire life. No exaggeration, I wore a thick white headband and the background was white so half of my head looks like it is missing, and they stretched it so I look fat.** Okay back to the story, we ended up at our next, and turned out last stop Black Bull. This worked out because my boyfriend wanted us to end up here eventually because it’s so big. Our group split up here because us girls wanted to dance. My older sister bought me a rum and coke which was disgusting. She brought it back to the bar and asked for more coke in it. I am such a weenie. By this point I wasn’t really dancing, just more white girl swaying I would say since my coordination was diminishing by the minute. Suddenly this guy out of no where comes in front of me and started trying to grind on me. I literally just stood there and stared at him. When he turned to look at me his face dropped and he said I’m sorry and walked away. I felt bad, the poor guy was so embarrassed and ran away with his tail between his legs.

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Still on the dance floor, it was starting to get pretty packed, and a guy bumped me and spilt a tiny bit of his drink on my back. I tried to wipe it and here came my little activist sister with an, “Um excuse me, did you just spill on her? It is her birthday!” I grabbed her arm and pulled her away before she could say more. After my rum and coke, one of the girls bought me ANOTHER drink. This one was my favorite though, a Dirty Shirley, as I’ve mentioned in one of my previous blogs, Tragic Trippin. After this I was done. All I wanted was a water. We met up with the rest of the group and I found an empty booth and just sat there chasing the straw in my cup of water with my mouth, trying to take a drink. My roomie, best friend, and I practiced the buddy system and went to the bathroom, where one of them got sick (don’t worry girls I won’t say who). When we came out last call was ready and the lights were on. Naturally we started singing “Closing Time”. I went back to my seat of confined, drunken, death and waited for everyone to want to leave. I wanted nothing more than to be in bed.
Finally we left, got two cabs, and drove home. We were so close, almost home with no incidents until, my best friend. How I love her so much, while walking through the apartment parking lot almost home free, she trips over her own feet and just falls on her knees. My sister and her boyfriend drag her back to her feet and we make it home. I got straight in my pjs, washed my face, drank water and Gatorade, threw up, and went right to bed before anyone else.

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The morning was terrible in one of those swear you’re never going to drink again moments. People started waking up and all I wanted was for them to shut up. My head felt like someone was punching me from the inside. My boyfriend brought me a Gatorade, which I drank and promptly threw up. My sister asked if I wanted food and I asked for a tortilla. A plain tortilla was all I wanted. I ate that, drank more Gatorade, took aspirin and went back to sleep. The rest of the gang went to brunch at Fred’s, that I was supposed to meet them at, but never did. They had to get the cars still so they thought it was a good idea to walk to brunch. It was only a little less than three miles and it was a nice day. They regretted that decision when it turned out it was over four miles. I finally decided I could get up so I got ready and cleaned up the kitchen and living room. By the time they got back I was actually alive again, and all those thoughts about never drinking again were diminishing.

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The Fab Five, Tragic Shorts

A Tragic Short- Keep Your Heels On

Rule number one: YOU DO NOT TAKE YOUR HEELS OFF! Classy girls keep their heels on. Just like when T and I walked 0.6 miles in Pasadena in our heels like I talked about in the last post. We were at K’s wedding this past Saturday and it was dancing time.

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We were all a tad intoxicated. Side note: I highly suggest to NOT mix tequila, vodka, wine, and champagne all in the same night. I was not feeling too hot yesterday. But that is neither here nor there, this tragic short is about A. A is probably one of the classiest girls we all know, yet she is the one who takes her heels off. She took her heels off at her bachelorette party and walked the streets of down town Palm Springs barefoot. Saturday she took her heels off and went back on the dance floor. Mind you she only does this when she is drunk, yet she still shines with class. Here is to A!

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The Fab Five, Tragic events

Sunday Brunch

Today my four friends and I, we call ourselves the fab 5, had a Sunday Brunch. We all met up at one of their apartments at 11:45 and were all drunk within an hour resulting in us devouring an entire box of wheat thins, a tray of bear claws, a box of waffles, and eggs and bacon. The culprit of this binge eating fest I’m pretty sure was from the five of us polishing off three bottles of champagne (yet not even finishing half of the gallon of orange juice), two pitchers of this amazing concoction I made with lemonade, sprite, red moscato, and dragonberry Bacardi, and a half bottle of wine. Needless to say, we were bombed. If it wasn’t obvious by all the bottles and food out, you could sure tell when all the “I love you”s came out and we kept group hugging. Eventually we all started to fall asleep so I figured I should sober up to drive. My roomie is not in as good of shape as me. She told me, like she has many times before, to not let her drink that much next time, as she holds the side of the couch “spinning”.IMG_2493.JPG

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The Fab Five, Tragic events

Tragic Trippin

About a week ago I got to get dressed up with my four girlfriends, we call ourselves the Fab Five, and we went to support our sorority as respected alumnae at their philanthropy event: Theta Beta’s Sigma Kappa Ultra Violet Casino Night. It was fun to go to but the part we loved the most was dressing up, as usual. One of my girls and I are pretty much known as legends in our sorority, not to toot our own horn but toot-toot, because I was President and she was Executive Vice President and we made an amazing team together. I am not over exaggerating either, one of the girls told my dad this at Casino Night. Anyways after a night of faux blackjack and we felt that we had made a long enough appearance and took the appropriate amount of cute pictures in front of the letters, we left for the next portion of the night.

IMG_2267casino night

We were all going to head to a bar in the next city over but first I had to go pick up my boyfriend from daycare, aka- friends house where I dropped him off to watch the USC vs. UCLA game. As expected he was drunk already and by the time we made it to the bar he was asleep in the car. He woke right up though and was ready for a drink. We got inside and found the girls whose boyfriends and one husband also met up. My boyfriend asked what I wanted to drink and I said a Dirty Shirley which he responded to quite loudly that I wanted a whore. Like I said, he was drunk. One of the other girls had one and it was a nice small drink which was perfect because I was driving. Finally when he turned around with my drink it was in a straight up goblet. I asked him what he ordered?! He said that he told the bartender that he wanted a Dirty Shirley and to make her dirty, which is why I am assuming she gave him a giant one. There was no way I was going to be able to drink all of it and drive home so it became a group thing with my roomie and one of the other girls.

Dirty Shirley

After drinking my very Dirty Shirley we decided it was time to go as did everyone else. We would all see each other the next day anyways for our Friendsgiving. I drove my boyfriend and I back to my place, where he sat in the back so he could pretend I was a chauffeur, and he fell asleep again. By this time I had been in my heels for hours and my feet were in pain so I was so happy to finally be home. We were almost there, almost to the door when it happened. Mayday-mayday I was going down and I couldn’t stop it. My heel went on a wet leaf, which then slid into the drain in the parking lot and I ate it. I couldn’t catch my balance because I was holding my purse and another bag so I went right down on my knee. The drunk, non-helping boyfriend laughed and then asked if I was okay, and then laughed again. Bruised and bleeding, I would be the SOBER one who falls down. Typical Tragic Girl.

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