It has been a minute since I last posted, but I have been out in the world trying to do blog worthy things. I am not a fan of uninteresting writing so I try not not write if I feel it may bore my readers to tears and slitting their wrists. Since my last, I have been on a vacation, attended a truly wild 21st birthday party, almost gotten fired, moved out of the infamous 13311 (my apartment in Tallahassee) and started drinking Plexus. Yep, all totally blog worthy.
So since most of my friends were born in or around 1991/92, 2013 has not only been the year of the snake, but for me it has been the year of the 21st birthday waltz. Seriously, I have never partied so much in my life. I'm just not much of a party person. Literally, the first time I ever got drunk was at my apartment in Tallahassee with Ashley and Cassie. Since I had never been drunk we decided to just take shots all night until we couldn't anymore. These two dorks ended up sleeping under our coffee table with Mulan playing in the background. I was remixing the cute innocent Disney songs in my mind whilst trying to get these girls into their beds. Instead of "we must be swift as a coursing river" I was all like "we must be swift as a shot of vodka." Cassie refused to move and said, "She's warm" and snuggled closer to Ashley. I was the only one who crawled into bed that night, Cassie smacked her head on the table in the wee hours of the morning thinking she was in her bed and not under a coffee table. The audible thud made me giggle under my sheets in my own squeaky sorry excuse for a bed. My poor neighbors probably got tired of the spring loaded sounds produced by sexy nature and thought I was working for an escort service with how much noise my bed made. Little did they know I was simply rolling over, not roll playing a scene from Fifty Shades of Grey.
But back to the 21st birthday party I just attended a few weeks ago. It feels so weird for me to say weeks, I have truly missed my blog. It is like my baby and I feel as though I have abandoned it. But she is as tough as I am, a little time apart never hurt nobody. Mrs. Norman would likely point out my double negative here. How I made it through her class just baffles me.
Everyone remembers Sarah right? I have talked about her in a few posts before. Well, since about September of last year we have gotten really close. It is kind of creepy how alike we are in some aspects. It may also be creepy that her brother is so freaking hot to me. Sarah likes my brother Tyler too, so naturally I suggested a trade.
Like most of my other friends this year, Sarah turned 21 in July. Having been through my own birthday waltz, I refused to let her celebrate with just any old party. I was determined that she would celebrate with a waltz with the sign, rules, no memories, etc. She of course, was totally down for it. I could tell she was getting progressively more excited about it as the month of June inched closer into July. My sweet little niece doesn't give her many nights out as she must have her chocolate milk and back scratched at a precise time. Meaning, whenever she starts screaming for milk and says, "No, that's not right. Scratch under the shirt (insert whoever she has deemed her slave for the day's name)." She really is so deserving of the princess treatment though, those baby blues just melt Caraboo's heart and she gets whatever she wants. And she says the most intelligent things I have ever heard from a 2 year old. She has enlightened me that big people cannot fit through little doors, and that hearts are behind titties. How priceless! Needless to say, Sarah was in need for the first night out she had had in as long as I had started hanging out with her again.
Since everyone who was attending the party was 21 or over, Sarah decided that we would go to the beaches in Jacksonville, rent a hotel room, and hit all of the bars down there for two days straight. By the way, don't try to go into one of those bars down there with a fake ID. Those bouncers have Superman powers and see right through you and your illegal piece of plastic. I was selfishly excited to go to the beaches since I'd never been on that party scene. I knew that it was going to be Cassie's birthday party for me all over again, with one major modification: I would not be puking pink like a pepto-bismol volcano all over the pub floor. So when we took our first shots with our friends Destiny, Jessica, Amy, and Ashley, we toasted to having as much fun as possible without getting sick. As that disgusting shot of whatever horrible liquor that was slid down my throat, burning all the way, my inner Cara rolled her eyes and said, "Yeah right, might as well put a pillow by the toilet tonight." I pleasantly punched her in the arm in my mind and told her to shut up and that I could handle this. I should come up with another name for my conscious, any suggestions? Leave a comment and let me know.
We started out the night with dinner at a place called the Blue Water Grill. There are two levels to this place and our reservations were upstairs. One of the girls with us had on a very skimpy dress that didn't leave anything to the imagination. This included her panty line, so she left those at home. As we walked up the stairs, a man downstairs literally looked right up her barely there hemline. Like I know it was practically serving itself on an invisible platter, but avert your eyes asshole.
Our waitress had just started working at this place the night before. Poor girl, she probably handed in her resignation and 2 weeks notice as soon as we walked out. It was Sarah, Ashley, Amy, Jessica, Destiny, Nabila, Sarah's mom and stepdad, me, and I feel like I am leaving others out.... But there was a large number of us all demanding hurricanes and tsunamis and any other natural disaster that could be poured into a pretty glass. The girl looked as though she might quit and run crying by the end of the night. Part of me felt bad, the other part was buzzing on some sort of cataclysmic event of nature.
Everything was going very well. We had good food, frozen mudslides, floods, tornadoes, and great conversation. At some point, this boy who one of the girls wanted to see that night showed up looking more country than a cowlick in his boots and cut off sleeve shirt. I guess he didn't get the memo that the waltz theme was Models and Bottles.
Now, for those of you who don't know me, I like to talk about my ex boyfriends when I have had a few. And, if I am being honest, maybe also the "other girl" who the boyfriend dragged into our love line and made it a retarded triangle. Yeah, I can say some nasty things about these cats. Like I will tell a light switch about it if there is nobody else in the room. It is weird for me because normally I am just so peace, love and chicken wings, but after a few Bud Lite Limes or whatever, I just rant so hard about the exes and the stupid girls who let themselves get involved. I can go from, "Well, it really wasn't her fault," to "Bitch wears soooooooo much eye makeup, she looks like a raccoon," quicker than you want to bite into a lime after a shot of Patron.
Needless to say, I kind of just start getting bitter about males in general. So when this Luke Bryan wannabe walked up to our table with a fat dip in his lip, I was a bit perturbed. It reminded me of an ex who dipped after like every meal and it drove me crazy. And this guy was doing it right at the table. I was so angry about it in fact that I stopped mid conversation with Amy and Destiny to say to this stranger, "Excuse me good sir? Yeah while you are at this dinner table in front of all of us beautiful women, I am going to need you to spit that nasty dip out." I can quote this word for word because Amy found it incredibly funny and has repeated it to me several times since. He didn't. What an ass!
Party time wise, things escalated pretty quickly from there. There were rounds of frozen alcoholic drinks and the food was served. I was so excited about my sweet potato fries (probably a little more excited than usual thanks to my hurricanes). My delight was totally ruined when this guy who I didn't know, who wasn't with our party at all, just strolled up and stuck his hand into my fries and started to eat them...... WAIT, HOLD THE FREAKING PHONE!!!?!?!?!?!? ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?!?! I looked at him, and freaked out and was like, "Are you going to pay for those b(*&$#?" Like who just comes up and starts eating some stranger girl's sweet potato fries?! Serious party foul. His girlfriend came up and pushed him along and apologized to me and took care of that part of the bill and bought the whole table a round of shots. If only everyone could apologize like this girl did!
There was another party going on right next to our table. It was for a guy's birthday. He didn't exactly look like he was enjoying the drinking, but his friends were pushing him with more and more. Eventually we got the idea that he would be the perfect victim for one of Sarah's waltz things to do which was to take a body shot off of a stranger. His whole table was totally down for it and literally picked him up and laid him across a makeshift platform made of chairs. One girl in his group snatched his shirt up to reveal a grizzly bear hairy tummy. He was quite cute though so in my mind, it wasn't too bad trade off. Sarah's mom aka Ma-P, started shrieking "Sarah DON'T DO IT!!!!" but we were all forcing her over there, nose first towards his belly button full of booze. She did me proud and licked it all up. Ma P looked like she was about to faint.
Everyone in both parties thought it would only be fair if the boy took a body shot off of Sarah. Seeing as she couldn't just lift up her dress, the guy's party declared a titty shot. The same girl who forced the man to pull his shirt up slammed Sarah down in a chair and shoved a shot glass between her breasts. The guy was so nervous looking, but succumbed to the pressure of his peers and of our table all screaming "TITTY SHOT!" loud enough for the whole strip to hear. He got down on his knees and expertly lifted the shot glass via mouth and turned his head up draining the liquid out of it. He was all, "Look Ma, no hands!"
After quite an eventful dinner, we hit up a most of the bars. At one that I do not recall the name of, I decided to dance. For those of you who know me, you know I dance badly. For those of you who haven't had the distinctly interesting pleasure yet, just youtube bad mascot dances and you will probably get the picture. I don't dance. But tonight I made an exception and did. And some guy decided to dance with me, which is about as rare of an occurrence as a unicorn crossing highway 90. And I decided that I didn't care that he was dancing with me. And I decided to kiss him. Or maybe it was he who decided that. But we did. Multiple times.... Oh my stars, I never ever do stuff like that! This girl doesn't make out with strangers at a bar! What in the actual heck? I felt so mad because that Classy Girls song by The Lumineers declares that classy girls don't kiss in bars. That was definitely a first, and probably a last since I hear you don't meet your sweetheart by smooching next to the bar stools. I am proud to say I at least asked his name, it was Carl. I shouted several times that that is my stepdad's name and eventually decided that I should get away from Carl. My flight of fight senses must have been tingling or something, even though I do not recall him looking like a creep. I am told he was good looking. Amen and Praise the Lord that he didn't have a fever blister.
I wasn't the only one knocking boots on the dance floor. The birthday girl found some guy that she works with (I think) and said she needed to get 21 birthday kisses. Normally people just do a quick peck on the cheek to fulfill this waltz obligation. But not Sarah. She ran the distance of the whole make-out mile! I've got the pictures to prove it.
Never forget that your friends are always there to gather blackmail on you. It is just more unfortunate for the blackmailee if that friend has a blog that a few people read like I just so happen to have. It is okay though, I sometimes normally do or maybe not ask her about what I can and cannot post on here. This may or may not be one of those times.
We were done with that night at some point. I laid down thinking not much of anything, but what I did think was, we achieved our goal, nobody was sick. But that was just day one.
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