Episode 5 where girls just wanna have fun

The party... wow... what can one say about the party? Well, it was pretty damn epic. And when I say epic I'm not talking about the sort of party that wins awards or is talked about on fashionable websites and blogs. I'm talking about:

ep·ic
–adjectiveAlso, ep·i·cal.
1. noting or pertaining to a long poetic composition, usually centered upon a hero, in which a series of great achievements or events is narrated in elevated style: Homer's Iliad is an epic poem.
2. resembling or suggesting such poetry: an epic novel on the founding of the country.
3. heroic; majestic; impressively great: the epic events of the war.
4. of unusually great size or extent: a crime wave of epic proportions.
5. a style of debauchery that has only been witnessed a) at a frat/sorority house during hell week b) at a ritual sacrifice c) before the fall of Rome d) any other place that is most certainly NOT in Cedar Park (...until now)

Yeah, it was crazy... but crazy fun. I think Poptart put it best:

Poptart: "I may be a little embarrassed, but I am not ashamed. I will hold my head high!"

After a recovery bowl of Pho for lunch on monday (and let me tell you we were all still a little uneasy/maybe hungover from the 4 -- let me say that again F-O-U-R liters of liquor consumed) where we could still look each other in the eyes, we realized that the party really just brought us all closer together.... in more ways that one. Tequila is the devil's drink and my house may just be built over an indian burial ground.

So, yeah, that's all I'm going to say about that party.

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Okay, I lied, one more thing. Pandora (the online music player) has been insisting on playing a song by Hotspur called Chandalier over and over and over and over again, regardless of station (I shit you not, it was on my tejano station -- I can't make this stuff up!). So, I made it a joke to poke people in aim every time it came on because, let's be honest, did these guys really not have anything better to say about their signficant others?

You've made it crystal clear
You are the chandelier
I am the floor beneath you
So low i cannot reach you

See? ARGH - it makes me want to scream, you god damn emo kids. When I was in high school we had goths, now get off my fucking lawn as I do not understand your Lady Gaga!!

ahem.

So, Q turned into my comfy couch, Raul is that table by the entry way that I sometimes throw my mail on (but in a nice way!), Elevant became the fancy table that I only eat on for big parties and maybe thanksgiving time, and Poptart is the pot rack that I should buy and hang over the island in my kitchen, but I still haven't yet. Turns out I'm Elevant's coffeemaker, so well played me!

Well, I can now safely say, after this weekend's debauchery that each of you bitches... you are all the limes I picked up off the floor... and out of my couch.... and out from under the table... and in the bathroom (THE BATHROOM!!) ... and on the stairs and in the hole I punched in the wall.

each... and every... one of you.

Now - now, I am done. My house, it's a little like Vegas. What happens there, stays there. Everyone knows that, except Q as she never gets drunk at my house, and more's the pity. My amoral compass is just going to have to put a lampshade on her head next time and earn her title. ("Oh noes, was that gin and not sprite? The bottles look so similar... silly me).

NOW, ONTO THE TOPIC AT HAND which is really just another drunken story.

We girls like to go out dancing a lot. I often joke that 28 is the new 21 because I have done more shaking this year than I think ever before. The last time we went dancing was just as epic as it usually is mainly because Renee drove us all in my little clown car so we could all get toe up... and toe up we were! The night had all of the usual fun: There were pictures of very proportional people (for those of you know what I'm talking about... aawww yeah. For those that don't, well, sucks to be you!), there was a little groping, there were pretty boys in very skimpy clothes teaching us a thing or two, and, of course, there was a devil hat. Again, business as usual. :)

On the way home, Renee is driving my piece of crap car. The inspection is out. The back right blinker is out. It's just generally a mess. So, of course, just as she's 5 miles from the house, this happens --

Renee: Shit.
Me: What?
Renee: I think the cop just caught me speeding.
Raul: Shit!
Renee: Yep, there he goes.
Me: Um, you have to go over the right. My blinker is out!
Renee: I got this. Do you have your insurance card, 'cause I don't.
Me: fuck, no! No no no I don't.
Raul: Shit!
Renee: *pulls over* just shush, I got this.
Me: *freaking out*
Raul: *freaking out*
Renee: I - GOT - THIS. Shut up.
Officer: Hi there ma'am, do you know how fast you were going?

At this point, he starts to move his flashlight towards the out of date inspection sticker. I start to freak out a little. Renee squeezes my leg to get me to shut the hell up.

Renee: I thought I was going 40, this isn't my car, so I'm not used to it.

And, like Obi Wan saying "these are not the droids you were looking for", he moves away and points at the speedometer in my car.

Renee: This is her car, and I'm driving them home from downtown.
Officer: I see ma'am. Can you step out of the car for a moment? There is a strong smell of alcohol in there.
Renee: Sure.

At which point she turns and glares at me for a moment then goes. Now, I may have been inebriated, but I was also proud. So I roll my head behind me and stare at Raul.

Me: Raul - I thinksh he just said we stink!
Raul: Bastard! He must pay.

And then the giggles broke out. After what felt like an hour, Renee gets back into the car (with not even a warning) and we're off again. To which there was really only one thing to say:

Me: "Man, Raul. We stink, Renee is a fucking Jedi, and I could really go for some Taco Bell."