I am very (very) late for class today, but I promise I have a decent explanation. You see, 5 lovely blogging ladies (Juliette, Allie, Sami, Adriana, and Brittany) have decided to host a little link up today for us blog peoplez to discuss our 21st birthday. In typical me fashion, I woke up this morning completely unprepared but really wanting to participate, so I made the executive decision to show up late to class. I'll try to make your wait worth it, Teach, I promise.
You see, I took my 21st birthday very seriously, as I'm sure most of you could probably have guessed. Not only did I go out at midnight the night of, a large group of my friends and I took a school bus turned party bus to a night club in downtown Orlando and proceeded to swim our way through 8 bottles of liquor. Mind you, that was after my close friends and family had birthday dinner over 6 bottles of champagne.
It was quite the evening.
July 31st, 2008
When I got home from work on the eve of my 21st birthday my ex-fiance (boyfriend at the time) had a pretty sweet spread waiting on me and that cake was straight from Coldstone, aka one of his most favorite cakes, but that's neither here nor there. I gave him the cake and helped myself to the fully stocked fridge of booze to pregame my midnight celebration.
Luckily, nearly all of my friends had already turned 21 so I was able to scoop up a few for the midnight celebration. We hoochied up and my boyfriend at the time drove our eager asses to a bar downtown at precisely 11:56pm. To say I was excited to get carded would be a vast understatement.
And then I was that girl who took a picture of the clock that night.
I wish I could say this was a one time occasion but, typically, I end up with a midnight clock shot every year. Sorry, I'm kinda sorry. Soberly admitting this is slightly shameful.
We did some damage that night and things ended up pretty weird, as you can see by my napkin hat.
August 1st, 2008 - My 21st Birthday, bitches.
Ooooh, the day I never, ever want to re-live (like, ever), which ironically was one of the best days of my life.
We had dinner at the restaurant my parent's owned at the time with a few family members and my close friends. Somehow I ended up managing to get pretty trashed from the get-go at said dinner. I didn't hate it.
Did I mention I was dressed as a cupcake? Yeah, because that definitely happened.
Holla, Betsey Johnson.
This is pretty much the gist of the people we shoved into the party bus that night... I can't say for sure, because you're about to see a 21 year old blonde girl who absolutely blacked out on her birthday, but I'm pretty sure more people showed up and met us at the club later.
My big brother even came with us... he brought his pit stains and everything!
The party bus was.... insane. It had a stripper pole, which I managed to stay far away from thankfully, and couches all around the perimeter. If I remember correctly, which is questionable, there were also a bazillion crazy party lights and a disco ball. I wish that sucker would drive me around on the regular, really.
This is the soberist photo I have of myself from this night, and most definitely for the rest of this post.
When we got to the club, bottles of liquor lit on fire were being passed all around me. I'm not really sure who agreed to let those things near me in my state, but no one died so I guess it's all gravy. If you can't tell from my expression, I was happier than Honey Boo Boo sitting in a bucket of sketti and ketchup.
At one point through the night I made my best friend come with me to the bathroom because I was so full and needed to puke. She held my tiara while I, so lady like, proceeded to vom champagne, cake, vodka, and god only knows what else, like a champion. Once I was done, I gave the ol' vodka catcher a rinse and we headed back out to the dance floor to continue the festivities.
I'm fairly certain my friend and I are still the only ones who know about this little puke break to this day. Well, and now whoever reads this, I guess.
Keeping the duck face real since '08, y'all.
Also, I believe that is my sad, sad attempt at chucking up my deuces. Nailed it.
I then walked away to go see the bartender that was working one of the bars downstairs because she so happened to be the one who's ID I had been using for the last 2 years. (hashtag such a rebel) While I was down there, some woman introduced herself to me as Chris Rock's assistant and proceeded to buy me three top shelf cosmopolitan martinis as a birthday gift. I don't really believe that she was Chris Rock's assistant but, hey, if she wanted to pour $18 martinis down my throat for fun, have at it, sister.
I know this one's a blurry one, but I'm sure you can appreciate the small details you can see. I was definitely sober Sally, duh.
Speaking of sober Sally, the boyfriend I had at the time was in charge of keeping everyone's money together for the bottles that night. He ended up getting even more hammered than I was and losing half of the money. When it came time to pay the $6,000 tab (Don't freak out, there were a lot of people and everyone paid their portion.) he couldn't find the money and decided it was all my fault. This is when it was really fun having my big brother present... he put a stop to that yelling real fast. I still owe ya for that one, big broski.
This is, unfortunately, the last photo of me from the night... I believe I was attempting to be a rockstar but slightly confused as I'm throwing up the ASL sign for I love you. Such a hard ass, I am. Also, please note I am holding on to a fire extinguisher box and leaning against the wall. You can imagine the scene it was getting that girl up there back on the party bus without face planting in the middle of downtown Orlando. Oh, if only Instagram video was a thing back then.
And there you have it, my friends. My calm, low-key, mostly sober twenty first birthday. Which I never, ever want to relive because I honestly think I'd die.
Really though, I might need to go pop an Advil just reliving the night through these pictures. Oy.