Once upon a time I was awesome.
I could stay out all night. I went to 5am bars. I could hang.
Apparently, that’s no longer the case.
When I was 21 I was She of the Iron Liver. That’s me down there dressed as Janis Joplin for Halloween. When she was around, rumor has it that Janis could hang and back then, so could I.
Have you ever heard of a Case Race? No? Good…because it’s fucking stupid. Allow me to enlighten you. A Case Race is when 4 dumbass college students (theatre majors, no less), in two teams of two (boys against girls) drink an entire case of beer and the loser buys breakfast the next morning…if you’re still alive. Because of the sheer fuckedupedness nature of the Case Race I had some difficulty finding a partner, but find her I did. So Barbara and I went up against my roommate Dan and best friend Bryan in Case Race 2002 (give or take a few years).
Let me paint a picture for you kids, this was an EVENT. See the gorgeous harem girl and Dieter in that picture up there?
That’s Rachel & Jason: Case Race Cheerleaders. They had outfits. They were each assigned to a team and were there to provide moral support, hand us our beers and more importantly, in charge of the bucket. That’s right, the bucket. Early on, after chugging beer three, beer three came back up and landed in the bucket…which I then drank. What. The. Fuck. It was pretty rock star and totally gross. Barbara disappeared mid race and I soldiered on alone. Dan & Bryan were slow and steady and would have totally won if I hadn’t cheated my face off. I felt justified as it was now two against one. How do you cheat at a Case Race? You sneak pour beer into the puke bucket and your Cheerleader empties it dutifully.
My point is this…cheating aside, I probably drank 18 beers that day and I remember every single thing that happened. Everything. AND I was up for breakfast the next morning.
Last night I drank 6 beers (and a few shots) and the last thing I remember is singing Suddenly Seymour with a stranger and drunkenly telling gay men how much I love them.
I went to a wedding last week. I was told that I was in the top 10 drunkest wedding guests. Let me put this one in perspective for you. The wedding was for my former boss (and coolest chick I know) and owner of the best bar in the world.
The tables were named after adult beverages. Almost the entire guest list is a regular at the bar. Everyone, EVERYONE, drank at this shindig and a grand majority of the party moved to the sports bar next door to the hotel and stayed there until 5am.
I was Top Ten Wasted by 10pm and asleep in my hotel room by 10:15.
What has happened to me!??!
Perhaps it’s the lifestyle change that’s happened in the last few years. I no longer work at the bar and instead, do boring crap in an office all day. I go to bed at 10 or 11 because I have to get up at 6am. I don’t drink every day any more and I haven’t seen a 4am bar in years. When I do go out, I’m a hot mess. It ain’t pretty folks, and I’m pretty damn pretty, so imagine my dismay when I realized what a total catastrophe I can become.
I was a champion and professional drinker for so long and when I retired to spend my nights on the couch with my Husband instead of on a bar stool looking for a husband, I doomed myself to being that girl when I do decide to party like it’s 2002.
I was certainly doing serious damage to my body back then, but I was way more fun to hang out with.
Now I am old. Now I am lame. Now…I can’t hang.
Then again….a lot of this may have something to do with the fact that I’ve recently developed a taste for tequila…
I guess we’ll never know.