I’m never drinking again.
At least that’s what I kept repeating over and over again yesterday…I cursed myself for drinking to the point of a splitting headache.
Lisette, you’re no longer in your early- to mid-twenties. You’ll be 30 in a few short months.
Let’s recap last night, shall we? After all, I almost drowned, people.
Salt + Pepper (not to be confused with Salt + Peppa….although we did gladly croon our own rendition of Let’s Talk About Sex to poor passerbys) were our costumes. It was a ridiculously easy one to make on the fly. Anyone interested in a tutorial for this last-minute costume? I’ll be honest…it’s just an excuse to get a Pinnable post out there. Anyone?
Our night started out with some drinks at our hotel’s bar. I had a glass of wine. The bartender had a heavy hand…my favorite. Then we had some awesome appetizers at Carleone’s Italian restaurant in Savannah. Where I proceeded to have this amazing cocktail:
I enjoyed a bottle of hard cider while we got dressed. Gotta love Woodchuck.
We went to a local watering hole that had a costume contest. Only no one was in costumes. We felt like major a$$holes walking around in costumes. Then we realized that we are OLD and the people in costumes didn’t come out until after 9pm. The host of this place almost got schooled by this Queens girl. He was incredibly rude. He was lucky I was only on drink number 2 when he came over…20 minutes later and finger snaps would be flying. Don’t sass a tipsy Latina. Just sayin’.
I think I had a wee too many cranberry +vodkas at this bar. Enough to toss my cookies in the bathroom. And you know what this level-headed drunk did? Continued to drink, naturally. If you’ve been paying attention, that’s been 1 glass of wine, a martini, 1 bottle of hard cider, and I lost count of how many cranberry + vodkas I drank at the bar.
That disaster of a drunk text? I don’t even remember texting Amanda and Rachel. And this is the only snapshot I dare share, because they just kept getting worse. I think this text was sent around the same time B and I tried to dance salsa at SubZero. I’m sure we thought we rocked it…and I’m sure we failed miserably. Also, take note of our friends that night: the Tooth fairy and a cop from the Department of Erections.
We eventually stumbled back to our hotel room (I highly recommend local lodging during a night of fun!), with me hiccuping and babbling the whole way home. As soon as I got to the hotel room I regretted all the drinking. I was in full recovery mode…make-up is washed off, water at my bedside, and Advil.
How did I almost drown? Oh, in only the fashion I could pull off. In bed, of course.
We head to bed and no sooner have I fallen asleep when I feel water pouring into my left ear canal and left nostril. I wake up in a panic thinking I am drowning in the Savannah River when I hear my husband laughing. B is hilarious (insert side eye). He tried to blame me but I knew I wasn’t holding a water bottle. Somehow, I fall off the bed and start crying.
As he comes to my aid I keep repeating You tried to drown me! You tried to drown me! He starts laughing, and even though I’m still drunk (and crying) I start laughing at myself too. We’re both laughing as I continue to tell him You tried to drown me!
Needless to say, it took all day Sunday for me to recuperate. It wasn’t pretty. I’m just lucky I didn’t break an arm or a leg after I fell off that bed.
Have you ever drowned in your bed?
Linking up with Weekend Shenanigans