I might have a problem, or two. One of them might be alcohol related. First things first, someone, anyone, take Berry away from me when I drink. Second, should I be worried that lately I black out every time I drink? On second thought, if Berry had not been hanging out in my bra all Saturday, I would have absolutely no idea what happened versus at least having the ability to check my twitter Sunday morning. Wow, that should be an ad, "Twitter, allowing you to black out and still remember your night since 2008."
So what really happened? Kel, Da, and L hosted a frat party at their house Saturday night. The boys played. I did keg curls. Keg curls. Like, curling an empty keg multiple times. I'm not going to be able to lift with my right arm all week. I knocked a table over with a bowl of chips. Picked up the chips, put them back into the bowl and said something to the effect of, "God made dirt, and dirt don't hurt."
I rubbed Em's pregnant belly, a day after saying that I wasn't quite ready for that. PS Em, it's a real cute pregnant belly!
Hung out with DH (Dawn H aka Vodka Dawn or VD for short.) Everything was fine for a bit. I'm not going into specifics, but let's just leave it at words were had. Mean ones. Hateful ones. Ones that made me wake up in the morning thinking, "Fuck. I am a bitch. It all needed to be said, but not in that way. Not in front of everyone."
So DH and I hugged it out over the phone last night. Shit's not all weird at work today. We joked that everyone in our incestuous little group will spend the entire week snickering about the "incident", and waiting to see how we'll act this Saturday in Hermosa. Except it's not really a joke. One of, if not the main point we discussed, is how our group gossips like a bitch. We all do, I do. And it's got to stop. So that's the story, at least what I'm willing to tell.