At this time last year, this Super Bowl Sunday when my dear
Patriots were actually standing a chance, I was dying. I was so sick that I was
pretty sure I was just dying. The night before had been my birthday – take a
guess what age. I thought I’d known hangover in the past, that slightly gross
feeling in the pit of your stomach, the nauseated feeling at every nasty smell,
the pounding headache. No. I was wrong. On this Sunday last year, I think I was
hit by a bus in my sleep, and nobody ever filled me in on the events.
At midnight:02, the night/morning I turned 21, I was at a
Cumberland Farms buying Smirnoff and Captain Morgan’s. I drank until 5AM,
watched all the Paranormal Activities… and don’t remember them being that scary
(it must have been the alcohol – I still, to this day, will never watch those
again). I slept for about 2 hours, went to lunch, already didn’t feel great, and
then the night began. My 21st birthday started (again) at a charity
event where I inhaled some free wine, red and white alike, even though I hate
wine. I practically had to plug my nose to get it down, but it was alcohol, and
it was free, and I was legal. So whatever. I partied with my mom all night,
which would sound lame to most people… unless you know my mom. I also partied
with my in-laws. Just me, my mom, my MIL and my FIL. Seriously. And I loved
every second of it. Started with wine, moved to tequila, and rum shots, and vodka,
and ended on tequila. So… yeah. I feel like this story tells itself.
Reminiscing on the day I was hit by a bus (metaphorically,
of course, unless you believe that I may have actually been hit by a bus –
because I’m sticking to that story). I laid in bed from 7:30 til 4:00 in the
afternoon, just praying I could finally vomit my brains out and feel a little
better (sorry for that image). I talked to my mister for a while, though, so
that was nice. He was at boot camp, so my long day of dying in bed also
consisted of me wanting to cry for my husband – kind of like a baby. It was
Super Bowl day, so at 4:00, I dragged my dying self out of bed, drove to my mom’s
in my pajamas, watched the Patriots (lose – my heart still breaks a little bit
every day), probably cried my way home, and went back to sleep. Today should be
a little better – I hope. Today I plan to eat my body weight in calories, maybe
more if I’m lucky, and finish all the alcohol in my fridge, because I’m sick of
staring at vodka bottles with less than a tablespoon of liquid left in them.
But I can’t help but to think of what the last year has done
for me. It’s crazy, really. I never wrote a “2012 Recap” like I wanted to, but
I’ve been slacking, what can I say? So 2012 in a nutshell: boot camp, turning
21, moving, road trip with my mom (Niagara Falls, St. Louis Arch, Kansas City
Bombing Memorial, Sedona AZ, Grand Canyon, Vegas), California, new home, two
new cats, 4 round trip flights from CA-ME, my degree, fireworks over the Bay
Bridge and a scary San Fran night (see previous blog post). And a bunch more
things, obviously. But that’s what comes to mind.
So what can 2013 to bring to possibly top that? I mean, I
have some ideas, so we’ll see... :) But to begin the list, tomorrow I turn 22. For the first time in my life, I’m
not super excited about a birthday. Damn you growing up. After 21, I feel like
there’s not much to look forward to except adult stuff. Like lowered car
insurance at 25. But guess what? I’m pumped about that. PUMPED.
*Disclaimer: I do not drink that much. Ever, really. But it
was my 21st birthday, so cut me some slack. And today – even though “finishing
all that alcohol in my fridge” is the ultimate alcoholic statement, I probably won’t
even be buzzed… which might be a problem if the 49ers lose, because I’ll be
coming home with a very upset mister.*
*Disclaimer #2: I’m going to stop drinking after today.
Seriously. For a while anyway. Another alcoholic statement if I’ve ever heard
one, but the difference is, I’m serious.*
We spent a solid 30 minutes in this bathroom taking pictures, as a result of the free wine...
Going, going... gone.
Rosy cheeks should give it away. But look at that cheezin' smile. Every single picture...
