Hangover Memories

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 21^st 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 21^st 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...