TMI Thursday: Barf, Blank-Out, and The Hangover

***WARNING*** Pretty long post…

I told Faker over at What If? that I’d share this story a while back after he told his hangover story, and I’ll just tell you now, it’s not pretty. It’s not terrible either, it’s just not my proudest moment.

I was going out with a group of friends to celebrate a friend’s birthday. I was being a little bitch at first because I was totally aggravated at these false lashes I wanted to wear that wouldn’t cooperate. I mean, I was at it for an hour and they weren’t working out. I was the first one to start getting ready and by the time Birthday Girl was like, “Okay, let’s go,” I still wasn’t done because of the stupid lashes! So, to stick it to the imaginary man, I decided to just wear my glasses and very little make-up since I ran out of time to put any on anyway.

I cheered up on the way to the night club, but wasn’t planning on dancing. I wanted a drink. My week had been shitty at work and school was rough. I wanted to loosen up. As soon as we get there, I get treated to my first cosmopolitan, thanks to boyfriend of birthday friend. I had another drink or two, while stealing sips of my friends’ drinks, too. So then I decide I want to do a shot. I’d never done a shot before that…well, besides a Jello shot, and knew it was bound to get me wasted. So I grabbed one of my guy friends and told him to do a shot with me of whatever he picked. He picked Patrón. I was terrible at doing shots. I couldn’t do it all at once, haha! Fail.

Not long after that, another one of my guy friends comes up and sees the shot glasses and expresses his interest in doing a shot, sounding disappointed that we didn’t call him over. Enthusiastically, I’m like, “I’ll do one with you!” (While my conscience sitting on my shoulder is screaming, “YOU’RE A FUCKING DUMBASS!”) So he buys us both a shot of Patrón, and we down ‘em. I don’t think I’m a lightweight either, but I’m definitely not a heavyweight drinker either. I fall somewhere in the middle. Now, I’ve just done two shots of Patrón back to back, and I’m still getting other drinks too. I think all together I had three drinks, two shots, and some of other people’s drinks, too.

Remember how I said I wasn’t going to dance? Change of plans. My friends had been trying to get me to dance all night, but I kept turning them down. After I was clearly inebriated (but not hindered), the guys came over and literally lifted me off of the stool I was sitting on and brought me out on the dance floor. Instead of going back to my place at the bar, cuddling with cups of liquor, I danced with the guys. I know there was grinding involved. Pretty hot. As the night went on, though, it got way dirtier. There was some friend of a friend there who I danced with most of the night, and we pretty much simulated sex on the dancefloor…and at the bar. Hot mess! I wasn’t even into the guy. I was just so far gone that any inhibitions went out of the window. Even though I was somewhat dizzy, I felt fine. It wasn’t until we left the club that everything hit me.

We were going to IHOP to eat after the club, and as soon as I got into the car with some of my friends, I got really tired and felt really sick. We were on the interstate when I go, “Um, I don’t feel good. I think I’m going to throw up.” The birthday girl (who was driving), had a bag in the backseat and I grab it just in time because I start barfing in the backseat. At first, I was doing pretty well making sure it all went into the bag but then it just got uncontrollable, a little got on the seat. Another one of our friends was in the backseat with me, but looking back, I don’t even remember her being there, although I knew she was.

At this point, I’m starting to black out, so my friends keep talking to me to keep me awake. We make it to IHOP, but I’m so out of it, I have to get help out of the car from Boyfriend of Birthday Girl. He helps me into the restaurant, but I’m just getting worse. I can’t stand up, and my eyes keep closing. They sit me down on a seat next to another guy friend in the restaurant in the waiting area, while they shield me from people looking at me. The only thing I remember from this point on are voices. The guy whose shoulder I’m laying on is talking to me, telling me to breathe a certain way, telling me to stay awake, keep talking. They won’t serve us at IHOP because they didn’t want me throwing up in the building. So we leave, and the guys walk me around the building. Apparently, I threw up in a trash can. I also remember falling at some point.

The guys are arguing back and forth about which one of them is going to drive me home (which one would care less if I threw up in their car), but Birthday Girl says she’s going to take me because I already threw up in her car, and we go back to her house. The other friend who was with us gets a ride from her boyfriend. She stayed in the car the whole time. Birthday Girl said she was surprised that Other Girl didn’t jump into “nurse-mode,” like she’s been known to do. In a twisted way, it disappointed me that she was the only one to not lend a helping hand.

The next thing I know, it’s the next morning. I’m in Birthday Girl’s bed, and I don’t know how I got there. Plus, the only reason I woke up was because I had to throw up again. I couldn’t eat anything until 5:00 p.m. the day after because it would come right back up. It was sad because Birthday Girl made some breakfast for me and I was too weak to eat it. I managed to get a bite of the eggs down. They were so fucking delicious when they went down. Disgusting when they came back up.

Birthday Girl filled me in on everything else that had happened. She wasn’t sure about telling me at first because she thought I’d be embarrassed about it. Naaahhhh…I don’t get embarrassed by much. I was sorry it happened, but not embarrassed.

So here’s the run-down: She and Boyfriend of Birthday Girl helped me change clothes and put me to bed, and I threw up on the clothes I changed into, so I had to change shirts again. At some point during the clothes changing process, I had to change my underwear. Birthday Girl has to convince me to take off my underwear in the first place and once I finally take them off, I just sit [bottomless] on the toilet and ask, “Okay, now what do I have to do next?” Once I’m changed and in bed, Birthday Girl sits with me. I beg her not to leave. Once she sees I’m asleep, she tells me that she’s going to bed. My eyes pop open, I get up, run to her bed and hop in, falling asleep immediately. She was like, “WTF?!” But let me have the bed and went to sleep in the room with Boyfriend of Birthday Girl.

So that’s the story. That’s the worst I’ve ever been from drinking and definitely the worst hangover I’ve ever had.

I don’t remember another time when I’ve been so happy to eat food.