Hi, everyone! I have missed you <3
Now, before you guys start calling me names because I have left you out to dry (via witty internet banter) for the first couple of months on 2014; hear me out. I have been very busy here in Baltimore. I've spent the early portions of this year shoveling snow, inadvertently laying myself out in the front yard, memorizing every song produced by Lorde, chugging lattes and loving everything around me. I also picked up three more stores, so between Royals and managing nine stores, I'm pretty blissfully wrapped up in my life.
My roommate bought a puppy! He is a miniature golden retriever and we named him Casanova because he lives with all girls. He's the friendliest dog alive but he struggles with where he should poop. His favorite place to poop is the kitchen. Basically, he's a work in progress. But, we love him.
Ryan and I went to Philadelphia for Valentine's weekend and it was so much fun. We went to Love Park, ate a lot of delicious food and enjoyed each other's company away from work for a full 48 hours. Also, I ate a hotdog which is in no way romantic but if you know me, you understand why this was a monumental win for Ryan. This week, we are going to St. Martin for my birthday and I cannot wait to sit my butt in the sand and work on absolutely nothing but my tan with the one I love. It's nice being a power couple.
Now onto the topic of choice.
I need someone to give me a medical or a logical explanation for what the hell happens to one's ability to successfully consume alcohol throughout the duration of their twenties. Now, if you're sitting there reading this thinking "I can still drink like a champion and I'm 25," then you, my friend, should seriously consider writing a book.
Allow me to explain.
When I was in college I was an absolute blast. I could drink almost anything. I could stomach the cheapest any-kind-of-alcohol you can name. My friends and I would go out all night, sleep for a few hours, and be at it again with absolutely no thought to it. If we were feeling hungover, we would order Papa Johns, and get on with the rest of our weekend shenanigan plans. We could mix liquor and beer in the same glass if we wanted to, and we would do that before we left the apartment for the evening. We made jello shots on a regular basis and I swear to you I could consume an entire tray on my own. I was a beer bonging champion at PITT football tailgates. I could take shots at the bar all night and then spend the next day in the library.
Then, I graduated. My career took off and I rarely went out to any establishment where the consumption of anything other than wine was even an option.
But every now and then I would try.
On my 23rd birthday, my boyfriend and I got in a screaming match over a vodka cranberry at the bar and he was asked to leave. That same year I was asked to leave a bar in Slippery Rock while visiting my brother after I poured a cup of water on a man wearing overalls. Those that were with me will say that I was in the wrong, but he wouldn't stop saying creepy things to me and no means no. Am I right, girls? That same year I threw up in my parent's powder room garbage can before sleeping on the deck. On my 24th birthday, I threw up in the front seat of Larry's car after he refused to pull over. I later found out that his refusal to pull over stemmed from the fact that we were actually on a bridge. #Pittsburgh One Sunday morning I woke up with a tumbleweed attached to my Steve Madden flat only to realize that I had slumbered on 24th St. and my vehicle was on 7th. Yes, those streets are in numerical order. Unfortunately, I walked four blocks in the wrong direction before coming to that realization.
Two weeks ago, Ryan insisted that we go out on the town with our friends in Baltimore. Reluctantly, I agreed. This was a mistake. We went out and had a great time. We participated in a Mardi Gras celebration where you paid $25 for "all you can drink." And, we did. I mean we really, really, drank all that we could. I spent the next day, in it's entirety, with my face on the toilet. God bless Ryan for getting me ginger ale and for eating his lunch in the bathroom because the smell of pizza made me sick. Ryan also needs to stop eating pizza from 7-11 but that is a topic for a different day. I was unable to move without vomiting that day until roughly 3p.m.
Now, I'm not telling you guys this story because I think it's hilarious. I am telling this story because it was a legitimate life lesson for me and I believe that everyone should be given fair warning before they indulge in excessive alcohol consumption past the age of 24.
You're welcome, fellow twenty-somethings.
Another pretty cool thing that occurs in your twenties; you stop caring. Not necessarily about everything, just about other people's thoughts. In your later twenties, you learn to stop trying to please other people. You start doing things for yourself. You do the things that make you happy and that better your own life and well-being.
What a concept.
You know what makes me happy?
Hugging my dad. Hugging him absolutely anywhere. Because I love him. Over-priced lattes. Because I can afford them. Sitting Indian style, everywhere, especially on the floor. Because I have really long legs and most of the time I don't know how to situate myself. Rap music. Because I think it's witty and well... hello. Tanning. Because a little sun is good for everyone, even if its artificial. Dancing. Especially the genie in a bottle dance. I will do this absolutely anywhere. I love all of these things and I do not give a single care what anyone else has to say about them. I don't care if I look weird sitting criss-cross apple sauce on the floor at an airport. I don't care if you don't like tanning beds. Yes, I know tanning gives you cancer. You know what else does? Everything.
Now, with all of that being said, today is my 26th birthday. Last night, I went out with a handful of my best friends and I am so unbelievably blessed and honored to be surrounded by such an amazing group of people. For every single one of you that spent last night with me, or that called or texted me, sent me cards, bought me wine... thank you. Thank you for those things but most importantly thank you for your constant love and support, not just on my birthday, but always. Every single one of you means the absolute world to me, and I could not be the person that I am today without each and every one of you.
Twenty-five was my best year yet, and I can't wait to see what twenty-six has to offer. Now, if you'll excuse me, Ryan and I are off to St. Martin.
I'll write soon, promise!
Here's to another year of health, happiness, and success,
Xoxo <3
