Black Bean Salsa

Before I begin my apologies to everyone last night (except the guy I gave the finger- that still stands). Special thanks to Jimmy (for getting my ass a cab), Kroge (for literally getting my ass in the cab), Jaynia and Dani (for not calling me an ambulance, for not hating me, for being really, really awesome friends... the list pretty much goes on and on for you two).

***

Ok, here goes.

I did it again. I salsa'd. Only this time it wasn't at a charity golf tournament, it was the GaTech MBA pub crawl. I know, worst possible situation EVER.

When I was in high school my best friend and I liked to play "Let's Ruin Our Lives." I'm not even joking, we'd do stupid stuff, knowing the outcome would not be good. We wanted to see how bad we could "F" things up and then recover. We were bored, obviously.

Now here I am 27 and I'm still doing the same thing. Except now I wouldn't say its a conscious decision. Yesterday somehow/somewhere between my first beer and my last beer, I had tooo many. The next thing I know I'm on the floor of the bathroom, donating black bean salsa (which I'm still confused about, because all I ate yesterday was cereal and mac and cheese- yes, I know I'm such a little kid) to the toilet.

FACE PALM. Wait, no... FACE BATHROOM FLOOR. 10 minute rule? GAHHHHHHHHH. So gross.

My friends got me outside at the waitress' request and I immediately snuggled up on the concrete. Ahhhh, bedtime! You might be intoxicated if... concrete is comfortable. Here's your sign! But, obviously by that time recovery is out of the question... as well as water. Stop offering me!

So I know I was the wasted one and really have no right to say anything... but I think we have all been there. Lying on the floor and someone keeps telling us we should move. Ok, fine, I get it. But, when I'm laying on the floor in my own puke and some stranger comes up to me and starts telling me what to do... ahem. Excuse me?! Now I'm gonna get feisty. I definitely shot some guy the bird multiple times.

No. I don't feel bad about that... especially after learning that he called my friends "bad friends" for not calling me an ambulance. An ambulance?! Really? Holy shit (my mom does say shit)... thank goodness they didn't! I'm drunk, I'm not lying in the middle of the road with a severed limb. NOTE TO WORLD: No one is calling me an ambulance but me, because I'm the one that's gonna pay for it!!!!

Sigh. This. This whole situation is probably why my parents threatened to pull me out of undergrad my first semester. Some people just never learn. And, yes, by some people I mean me.

Sorry :/.

xoxo. Jildo