Hot Mess

This is usually how a typical Thursday, Friday or Saturday night might go for me. I figure I only have one semester of college left, only so much more time to be this pathetic. Plans also vary depending on the day of the week (Thursday is usually a bar night, Friday a bit more low key, Saturday almost a guaranteed blackout), but I'll do my best to consolidate the general happenings.

4 PM: a trip to the liquor store, sometimes target, usually with pal MPF. Most of the time we are too hungover to accomplish anything, but rather wander around Target confused, wondering why we allowed ourselves to drink so much the night before. Upon arrival at the liquor store, we are also too hungover to even look at something like vodka without wanting to die. Beer and Wine it is.

6 PM: Dinner.

7-8 PM: Showers and pre-gaming. Usually a few beers or perhaps a bottle of wine, depending on how drunk I want to be.

9 PM: impromptu Flip-cup tournament either downstairs from us or in the apartments across campus. my teeth are usually purple from the wine, my makeup has started to run, and my armpits have started to sweat. Not drunk enough yet.

10-11 PM: Someone rouses everyone to go off campus. I stuff my coat pockets with emergency beers; you never know where there might not be a keg, like on the street, walking to your destination.

12 AM: more flip cup, usually led by a certain friend of mine who has an affinity for flannel, LL Bean duck boots, and La Roux (a really cool British new-age techno group). People start doing keg stands. I do one despite wearing a dress. Also, well on my way to blacking out. Some guy attempts to breakdance but instead belly flops on the cement floor.

1 AM and beyond: Pretty friends are let into a party. They beg to let me come in too. Once inside, pretty friends get hit on. I contemplate leaving, but drink more keg beer instead. Everyone is too drunk to play more games, so afore mentioned flannel friend starts a dance party of epic proportions.

From here, the night can end two ways. I either sober up enough to return to my room and order Dom's with the Sweet Sea (preferably onion pizza and cinnastix), gorge myself and go to bed drunk and hiccuping with heartburn, or I can wake up in the morning, somehow mercifully in my own bed (albeit in my clothes from the night before), without recollection of how I got there.

Good thing there's only 4 months of this left. Perhaps someday I'll grow up.