Monday, August 15, 2011

The First and Last Time I Drank Jim Beam

This weekend, Andrew and I trucked down to Maryland for Emily and Mike's Second Monthly Post-Wedding Surplus Alcohol Bash.  Or, as my dad tipsily called it "Emily 2.0." 

Despite sitting in 2 hours of Manhattan traffic on Friday and SEVEN HOURS of stupid rain traffic on Sunday (with hangover) the weekend still managed to be both epic and epically embarrassing.

On Friday night we had a couple drinks and a relatively calm round of Taboo.

On Saturday, we had lunch with my parents and brother.

On Saturday night, we had a lot of drinks, a couple rounds of Kan Jam (a game that requires throwing a Frisbee into a black plastic cylinder) and two rounds of decidedly not-calm Taboo (there was lots of clapping, A-T-T-A-C-K-ing and swearing from the MacDonald boys).

The evening started around 5, included a barbeque and short-lived fire pit, in addition to the activities previously mentioned, and was headed towards becoming a chill, early-to-bed night, as most guests had departed by 9, leaving Emily, Mike, John, Andrew and myself inside playing Taboo in our jammies by 9:30.

Cue two rounds of Kings and the boys feeling a serious buzz.  Norwegian tanks that we are, (me, definitely, Emily, not so much), we girls were not quite at the party level, and decided to kick it in to gear, so I switched to drinking straight Crown.

One round of Taboo later (in which the Thoreson girls kicked MacDonald/Vigliotta butt) we were all feeling pretty good.  And getting pretty dance-y.

Around midnight, things started breaking down.  And by that I mean we started breaking down.  Cut to a YouTube playlist full of hip hop, MJ and some good old fashioned classics (Macarena, anybody?  Yes, please).  I've never headbanged so much or gotten so low in my life.  There were a few moves pulled out by other dancers that I've never seen in my life also--Emily spent the majority of the time dancing on the couch, Mike pulled a sassy hip-swinging hand clap and of the two other guys, one pantomimed a telescope during Miley Cyrus' "The Climb" and one "Jumped On It" a la The Fresh Prince of Bel Air.

Halfway through the dance party, I decided it was a good idea to switch from straight Crown to straight Jim Beam.  Until Sunday morning, I stood by my decision.

Despite my worst hangover to date and an epic cinnamon-roll fail, the weekend was a definite win.  The fact that I can't move my neck, have bruises on my shin and feel a strange emotion bordering on embarrassment and self-judgment when I look at the pictures from Saturday night, tells me I made a series of bad decisions.  The fact that I am 23 and have awesome friends tells me that it's ok.

Thanks to those friends.  At least, I hope we're still friends after I danced up on all of you.

2 comments:

  1. You're more than just a friend to me, you're my frister-in-law :) Thanks for coming down and hanging with us for the weekend!

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  2. Frister-in-law just sounds bad. But I appreciate the sentiment! And thanks for having us! We definitely had a good time.

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