I'm not the blogging type. I'm the stroy telling type. I wish I could put my hand motions and animated face in blog form. Like at this moment I would toss my hands up and jester forward to the right alittle and squint one eye and tilt my head to the left. True life..you are missing out.
Regardless of the lack of hand motions and actual animations the internet can't provide for you.. unless I get inspired by a true life event..I can't blog. Won't happen. I will sit and stare and eat peanuts and nothing will be blogged. I get death threats and skittles thrown at my windows because I haven't blogged. Seriously getting bear traps next week.
That being said..true life hasn't really impressed me lately. It goes without saying that I've been drunk and funny shit has happened. Like smoking weed for the first time and seeing unicorns and cheetos...it's football season. Things always get out of hand. But nothing that inspires a blog.
Until last night. My birthday was on Wednesday. I usually just make skittle vodka..and toast myself..I may say something like "Hot bitch you are fine again this year." or "Heres to you and not being in rehab this year." or "Celebrate good times come on!" while I electric slide across the patio.
I decided a quiet dinner with some friends would be rewarding. Only my friends are anything but quiet. And dinner..usually consists of more liquid than actual food. There's an old saying "You are who you hang out with." and it's no different in my circle. We drink whatever you put in front of us. We talk constantly about weight gain and botox. If one of us is doing it..chances are we're all doing it. We have unhealthy obsessions. The latest phases to hit us are boob implants and latin dance class. We are loud, rude and ruthless. We're mean and can roundhouse kick your nose in. These are my bitches. We ride togther. We die together. And that's true life.
So after work we all head over to Conners steak house. As soon as we sit down the waiter is over asking what we want to drink. Common folk would say "I'd like a water" or "I'd like a coke." We however have our IDs ready and are spitting out our first choice of alcoholic beverage for the night. I ordered a whole bottle of Pino Grigio. Keep it classy San Diego. Poppy always on her toes says "Let's just go ahead and start off with two bottles of Pino Grigio." I like a fast drinker..er thinker.
Party starts rolling..old people are shaking their heads. We're swapping sex stories and laughing so hard we're snorting. The waiters love people like us. We come in ready. Poppy is snapping photos while I'm animating a story with my hands and odd facial movements. You can always tell when we're getting tipsy by the number of times we say "Real talk right now.." followed by some sort of idea/drink order/insult.
"Real talk" is flying left and right. We're making fun of each other and yelling swears. The waiter has just brought over a birthday shot of Ketel One. MY kind of restaurant. No singing..no double double chocolate lava cake..or off beat clapping that requires me to knee kick everyone to the ground. A DOUBLE SHOT OF ALCOHOL. My soul is singing. The quickest way to my heart is through alcohol.
By this point it's safe to say we are drunk. We've gone through 4 bottles of wine between the 4 of us. Not to mention the shots we took. The fact that we were able to walk out of the restaurant and make it to the club across the sidewalk is the work of an angel.
I'm told I made sure everyone knew it was my birthday. The bartender handed me water instead of the vodka I ordered. I was cut off before I even started. Definitely a new high.
I wish I could tell you how the night ended..but I can't remember. I would like to point out that the drunk me is so cute taking care of the sober me. I managed to get my face washed, teeth brushed, contacts out without losing an eye, and a glass of water by my bed for the morning. Drunk me is so thoughtful.
Next year I'll be 25. I'm planning on shutting the block down and having a street party. We're still partying the whole weekend for my birthday. It's like hanukkah. I'll post first thing Monday morning if I survive.
Alcohol is my way of life.. and I aim to keep it.
