Oh man. I can’t even begin to sum up the past few days. It’s been crazy. Just crazy.
We went up to my alma mater for a birthday party and it was one of the longer nights of my life. I elected to have us stay in a quaint little bed and breakfast within walking distance of downtown Appleton, and you know what the worst place to be stupidly drunk at 2:30am is? A quaint bed and breakfast, that’s where. We stumbled in so late, and I do believe I was shoeless. I sincerely hope that we did not disturb the newly weds who were spending their first married night in the room adjacent to us. I have a sneaking suspicion that they would not understand our drunken predicament seeing as they seemed the non-drinking type. Cursed teetotalers.
Adding insult to injury was the emergency stop at a gas station somewhere on the Wisconsin/Illinois border in order for me to puke my guts out on the drive home. I’m so sorry to all patrons of that particular gas station/family diner. I really hope your kids learned an important lesson from my vulgar display of stupidity: NEVER BINGE DRINK OVER THE AGE OF 20 (actually, just don’t binge drink I suppose).
I blame it on Appleton. There is something in the air of that town that makes people drunk. I never get drunk like that unless I’m at a wedding, because I cannot get over the privilege of an open bar and feel like I owe it to the hosts to take full advantage of their generosity. Maybe that’s why my wedding invitation receipts have declined dramatically this year? Nah.
It was stupid and it took fully 2-days to get over that night and thusly I accomplished nothing productive Saturday or Sunday. In fact that only thing I did accomplish was to experience extreme insomnia Saturday night that was virtually intractable. I was worried I would never sleep again. Both Brett and I experienced this phenomenon and we both finally gave up and had sex and that seemed to do the trick. You know you’re in a long term relationship when sex is sometimes a tool for sleep as opposed to a purely pleasure seeking device.
Luckily, it worked, and we finally got to sleep around 5am.
Monday was spent packing, lifting, grunting, sweating and rigging couches to dangle off of second floor balconies until they rested gently on the ground several feet below. My man, he’s some kind of genius. Honestly, without him, the future occupant of that apartment would have a free couch because there was no way that puppy was going out the door. Also, he lowered that couch to the ground all by himself. We have pictures to prove it (note that I am doing nothing but taking pictures, which is really evidence of my uselessness in this moving/home owning thing):
We went up to my alma mater for a birthday party and it was one of the longer nights of my life. I elected to have us stay in a quaint little bed and breakfast within walking distance of downtown Appleton, and you know what the worst place to be stupidly drunk at 2:30am is? A quaint bed and breakfast, that’s where. We stumbled in so late, and I do believe I was shoeless. I sincerely hope that we did not disturb the newly weds who were spending their first married night in the room adjacent to us. I have a sneaking suspicion that they would not understand our drunken predicament seeing as they seemed the non-drinking type. Cursed teetotalers.
Adding insult to injury was the emergency stop at a gas station somewhere on the Wisconsin/Illinois border in order for me to puke my guts out on the drive home. I’m so sorry to all patrons of that particular gas station/family diner. I really hope your kids learned an important lesson from my vulgar display of stupidity: NEVER BINGE DRINK OVER THE AGE OF 20 (actually, just don’t binge drink I suppose).
I blame it on Appleton. There is something in the air of that town that makes people drunk. I never get drunk like that unless I’m at a wedding, because I cannot get over the privilege of an open bar and feel like I owe it to the hosts to take full advantage of their generosity. Maybe that’s why my wedding invitation receipts have declined dramatically this year? Nah.
It was stupid and it took fully 2-days to get over that night and thusly I accomplished nothing productive Saturday or Sunday. In fact that only thing I did accomplish was to experience extreme insomnia Saturday night that was virtually intractable. I was worried I would never sleep again. Both Brett and I experienced this phenomenon and we both finally gave up and had sex and that seemed to do the trick. You know you’re in a long term relationship when sex is sometimes a tool for sleep as opposed to a purely pleasure seeking device.
Luckily, it worked, and we finally got to sleep around 5am.
Monday was spent packing, lifting, grunting, sweating and rigging couches to dangle off of second floor balconies until they rested gently on the ground several feet below. My man, he’s some kind of genius. Honestly, without him, the future occupant of that apartment would have a free couch because there was no way that puppy was going out the door. Also, he lowered that couch to the ground all by himself. We have pictures to prove it (note that I am doing nothing but taking pictures, which is really evidence of my uselessness in this moving/home owning thing):
14 comments:
That's impressive!
I binged on my last birthday and spent the whole next day puking... a lovely sight for my children to see.
Oy, I can't handle late nights with drinks anymore, either. Vodka kicks my ENTIRE GI system's butt...
I can't believe Brett figured out how to get that couch down. I would have been hovering and hopping all around, twitchy and nervous. I'd be no help, either!
Wow, he did that all by himself? I think I'm scared of him.
I feel barfy just reading that, and remembering my last experience with a wedding open bar, which left me puking in a public bathroom mere MINUTES before boarding a plane home. GOD. The humiliation.
I'm so glad you documented that couch thing. Hilarious.
Wow, I need to hire your fiancé to help us move our couch when we eventually move. I'm pretty sure the only way it will get out of our bedroom is through the window, and we lack the skills to do what he did.
Dude! I cannot believe you were ABOUT 5 MINUTES from me whilst puking on the IL/WI border!!! Dammit! (While glad to have missed the whole vomiting thing, would've been AWESOME to grab a cup of coffee or something!!)
hot damn, i am VERY impressed w/your man! way to go with the couch!
aahhhhhahaha. i've (sadly) come to terms with the fact that my stomach is Not As Young As It Used To Be, and thankfully have not binge dr...ank? binge drinked? to excess in the past few years, because OH MY HELL YOU AIN'T KIDDING, the next few days are just RUINED. dear 21, where have you gone?
Wow! I can't believe that he figured out how to get the couch down like that. I'm REALLY impressed! Grant probably would've just thrown it off the balcony.
Wow, what a man!
I feel for you and your drinking night. A girl needs that sometimes, especially when she is moving house and about to get married.
Wow, i'm impressed with Brett, too. That's pretty damn smart and BRAVE. I would have been freaking out about the couch falling and busting into pieces.
Let's see... my last binge drinking episode... Jacksonville, FL, summer of 2001. I ended up laying on the ground in my SIL's backyard next to a pond WITH ALLIGATORS in it, while 2 of my SILs discussed what to do with me.
SIL 1: Shouldn't we help her?
SIL 2: Nah. She'll get up sometime.
Me (in a drunken slur): I can HEAR you.
I loved this story! Gas station puking, offending owners of quaint b and b and very likely horrifying virginal newlyweds, and then COUCH HOISTING!
Last time I got sick-drunk was on Kahlua, and completely by accident. I spent the night teetering on the couch, begging the gods not to let me throw up in my own home on a freaking weeknight, with my babies in the next room. Oh the shame.
heh. Those pictures of your couch dangling out the window, and the look on the man's face: priceless.
Yikes on the binge drinking. HOpe you feel better.
Hee... barfing in a B&B. the perfect illustration of our recognition we're supposed to be grownups with our desire to still be immature. Love it!
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