Sombody f*cking peed on me!

Hubs and I will be attending a wedding this weekend. Hubs and Turner are part of the wedding party. Lauren and I will play our endearing roles as 'Adorable Daughter' and 'Trophy Wife'.

After the wedding will be the reception.

At the reception there will be FREE BOOZE!!

Unfortunately, I will not be able to partake in any of the 'tossing back' of the alcoholic beverages. I am still a responsible Mommy/Wife tomorrow night. I will be taking Lauren and Turner back to the hotel room for the night routine of pajamas, snuggling, and bedtime around 8 p.m.

Last year, I didn't drink alcohol because I was breastfeeding my little one. The prior year, I was preggo. Social functions that provide alcohol don't really seem to work out in my favor.

On a positive note, I won't have to worry about crossing the line between 'one too many' and getting 'completely shit-faced.' The latter is easy to do when getting back into the swing of things.

Once upon a time,

in my single days,

after too many drinks,

I totally turned into this woman.

Okay, so that isn't really me; my moves aren't that good. Mine are a little more jerky and unbalanced.

Aaaaanyway,

I got drunk. Really, really DRUNK.

Then, these based-on-true-events-in-my-life-but-don't-ask-me-about-them-in-person-or-I-will-deny-them-and-change-the-subject, may have taken place:

1. Friend assists me home since my 'date' decides he feels it best to leave solo and tells me it would be "best if I didn't call him again. Ever. Really, please don't call me."

2. I wake up the next day realizing I'm a.) Fully clothed blech b.) in my own bed oh yeah and c.) alone
thank you baby Jesus!

3. While fighting nausea, I run through a quick montage of the night before. First, the cool moments. (I looked HOT last night! I did 10 shots, drank 12 beers and didn't puke! I danced all night!) then, the not-so-cool stuff (I acquired my dance moves from the MTV spring-break themed dance show, The Grind... in 1994! I was SO sweaty! I'm pretty sure I requested Whitesnake's "Here I Go Again" and tossed my hair around trying to do my best Tawny Kitaen-like gymnastics on the cake table! I dirty danced with the overweight DJ that smelled like Brut cologne and pipe tobacco!)

4. Then, I reminisce about the 4 a.m. deep fried somethings I smothered in Ranch dressing and inhaled like it was my last meal. Oh man, I'm going to puke.

5. After my food thought, I force myself to sit up. A soft pack of Basic Lights crumble in my back pocket. Vaguely, I remember smoking cigarrette's and blowing spoke rings for an audience last night.  Bile builds in my sour stomach and my saliva glands go into overdrive; my clammy, grey-skinned self realizes that something else isn't quite right.

6. Why are my socks wet?

7. I remove my wet socks and give them a sniff.

8. SOMEBODY PISSED ON MY SOCKS! Immediately, I'm irate. What kind of an asshole pees on a person's socks!

9. Did I pee on my socks? I don't remember having to go outside to pee last night. Did I get too close to someone peeing outside? No. I'm pretty sure the answer is no. Then how the hell...

10. Wait a minute. My jeans are wet.

11. Yep. So are my sheets.

12. NOOOOOOOO!!!!!

13. Last, I humbly waddle to the restroom where I peel off my pee pants and swear to all that is holy that I will neverneverneverevereverever drink that much again.

14. I vow to take a break from any social shindig that may risk running into anyone I saw the night before. By 'take a break' I mean relocate 40 miles north, find new employment, a new doctor, a new dentist, and pretty much a new life for the next 10 years. All of that, only to return for a friend's wedding and have the DJ ask me, "Do I know you from somewhere? You look familiar."

(shudder)
(gag)

The End.