Beer Garden Blood

Yeah, so I thought I'd catch you all up on my recent drunken activities. Two weekends ago, on the 8th of July, I got totally tanked as shit and did a whole bunch of crazy stuff I don't really remember well. OH yeah!

It started out as an enjoyable-enough day. My parents had been out of town, and I was antsy to do something. So, I called Jess, and she invited me to come out to Vashon for Strawberry Festival. I acquiesced and packed some crap in an overnight bag. I then emptied a bottle of wine between two lidded coffee cups and hit the road. To say the least, I drank both those mugs of wine by the time I reached the Fauntleroy ferry, and was feeling just super. (By the way, this is the first time I've EVER drank while driving. It is NOT a habit, and I already have massive guilt and regret, so don't give me shit. This is kind of like confession. Kind of.)

So, by the time I got to Jess's house, I was in superb spirits. We ended up heading up to a beer garden with a live band, etc. We met a couple of her mom's friends and continued drinking. I had 2 keg cups full of wine and some guy's beer. I was dancing and laughing and supposedly making moves on on of Jess's Mom's friend's husband. Everyone found that hilarious. Eventually, we quit the beer garden (as the band left) and stumbled outside so Jess could have a smoke and continue chatting with friends. I remember walking/stumbling out of the beer garden, but at this point things become VERY hazy, if not just plain non existant in my memory.

I've been told that while standing/trying to stand outside I hit on another guy Jess was talking to, who was apparently the guy I'd been 'making moves' on's son. Go me. Father and Son. But fuck it, I don't really care, its not like anything happened, or was going to. All in an evening's fun, right?

So then Jess and I walked to the car, which was parked a couple blocks down from the beer garden. I think I was being loud and stumbling around a lot, or so I've been told. When we reached the car, (this is something I THINK I remember) I kept walking past it. I think I had it in my mind that we were too drunk to drive home, so we were going to walk, or I was. Jess's house is only another couple blocks away. So, I started to walk home, I guess. Its kind of a downhill road, and I remember jogging and laughing hilariously at the top of my lungs, completely out of control in my own imagined mirth. This is something I do remember, the sublime feeling of freedom and joy I had as I drunkenly jogged down the side of the road, laughing endlessly at this experience we call life. It was an ethereal experience.

But, Jess came along and picked me up in the car after asking two guys if they'd seen a drunk girl come past. They laughed and pointed her in my direction. Yay for drunks! At least we're entertaining, right? RRIIIGGGHHHTTT.

I've been told that when we arrived back at Jess's house I passed out on her kitchen floor for a couple hours, and then managed to make it into her bathroom to puke all over the floor and then pass out again. Marah, Jess's sister, found me passed out on the bathroom floor, checked that I was breathing, and left me. Good job Marah!

I remember waking up in Jess's bed the next morning. So, my only solid memories go stright from exiting the beer garden to waking up in bed. When I woke up, it was to Jess putting her legs on mine 'cause apparently I was taking up most of the bed. There was extreme pain, so I sat up and looked. My legs were spattered with dried blood, and there were scratches, abbrasions and scabs everywhere. My left knee was bloodied, and inner thigh was all scraped to crap. I managed to bruise and scrape the shit out of the tops of both feet, from toes to ankle, give myself a nice raspberry on my right hip, and bruise my right shoulder and eye/temple area. I woke up and my right eye was all fucked up and sore. Go me!

So yeah, I took a little bit of a drunkstumble, I guess. But, Jess wasn't too pissed. She even cleaned up the puke on the bathroom rug for me. Isn't she the best friend ever?!? I think she's nice about it so she can give me shit for the rest of my life. Sound about right, Jess? :)
I also ripped my favorite skirt, lost a flip-flop to Jess's dogs, and put a hole in my favorite summer sweater. :( But I wasn't that hungover the next day, so that was cool. I think it was more like a 3-day hangover, 'cause my body chemistry was WAY off for a couple days. When we actually got out of bed, we decided to get some food. We ended up at a Mexican (I know, SO easy on the stomach, eh?) restaurant, and had a mango margarita on the patio outside, under the shade of a gigantic umbrella. It was windy, so I was holding the umbrella still at the point where the umbrella went through the hole in the center of the table. Well, so make a long story shorter, the wind picked up, and the umbrella rolled over my hand, pinching it between the umbrella and the table, and gave me a horrid blood blister.

Combine the hungover state I was in, the margarita, the pain (which I DO NOT handle well) and whatever else, and you get me going into shock. I had the cold sweats, tunnel vision, nausea, and was about to either pass out or blow Mexican food chunks all over the table before I realized what was happening and got some icewater on my forehead. I made it okay, but fuck, that sucked.

So, currently, I still have a scab on my knee, scrapes on my thigh and ankles, and a half-healed blood blister on my left pinkie finger. Go big or go home, huh? I used to think that was a good motto, but I'm not thinking so much right now. I think moderation is something I need to seriously try and incorporate more of into my life.