That New Years

Memories.....like the corners of my mind.....

I'm here, in chilly Chicago, which surprisingly isn't that chilly...with the exception of yesterday morning when I thought I was going to turn into a solid block of ice when it was like 27 out and a massive gust of wind damn near took my breath away. Anyways... I still got my Chicago balls!! Woo hoo!!

Back to the story at hand. Hanging at Ms. M's house...having fun, playing with her son (who's stinkin' cute!), seeing some of the college friends. I'm having a good time. But it the real story going down memory land is THAT New Years that almost killed me. It was Dec. 30 2001....

Ms. M was engaged, I'm the MOH, and just flew in from AZ (I had just moved there in Aug), to do some bridesmaids dress shopping and what not with the bridal party. I was going to fly out on NYE in the early morning, so Ms. M and her future Mr. could have some fun for NYE and what not. So, by the 30th, we had picked a dress, ordered them, and it was the night before I was set to leave... We decided to have a girly moment of facials and tea.

A digression for just a moment.... In college I was holding spa nights in my room- facials, hand massages, tea, maybe some drinky-drinks, mellow music, and lots of laughing. In fact I had dubbed spa nights "Hand jobs and facial night" because I like to be funny like that. I would come to dinner and say "lady's and gents, get your washcloths and be at my room at whatever o'clock, it's hand job and facial night!" Oh the look of shock on the faces of the boys when I first said that... Priceless.

Back to the regularly scheduled program...

Facials and tea.... So I go up to Ms. M's room to set up shop, she's making the tea, however the tea she made was not a nice herbal variety but a rather large bottle of tequila and lots of little limes. This is going to be a fun night. Now the bottle of Jose, I thought was new, and just the neck of the bottle was consumed, but talking with Ms. M last night, she said it was only half full, that it was in the handle area of the bottle...either way...it was a lot of fucking tequila.... So "CHEERS " to Ms. M, the engagement, the upcoming nuptuals, the friendship, the sky, the air, anything we can think of....while the masks are on our faces drying and the shots were rapidly firing.

Fully under the Jose spell we decide it's time to take off the masks. It was a long hallway to the bathroom at Ms M's parents house, with their bedroom just on the other side of it. It was very late and we had to be very, very quiet so we wouldn't wake them. Yeah, right. M's on the right side of the hall, leading oh so quietly, while smacking into the left side of the hall, I'm trying not to laugh and thinking I'm walking totally fine. We get to the bathroom, and I'm trying to take the mask off of her face... I had one hand on the top of her head, trying to keep her head still armed with a hot washcloth in the other for removal. I almost gauged her eye out. I grumble something about her head not staying still, before I go in for the kill again... I decide that it would be best for M to remove her mask without my help- she might be able to focus better and keep both eyes in the process. So we stumble in the bathroom, removed the masks, and oh so quietly enter into the hall to go back to the bedroom....we need more tequila. We eventually run out of lime chasers and thought about going down to cut more, but had enough clarity to know that if we couldn't walk down the hall- there's no way we are going to make it down a set of stairs and use sharp instruments to cut up limes... So we just keep drinking the tequila with no chasers. And before we know it, the bottle is empty- whether it's Ms. M's recolection of a half bottle or mine being an almost full bottle- it's gone and it's a lot of fucking tequila. We are beyond annihilated...and I have to be up at 6am to make the flight. Ms. M excuses herself, I fall into bed...the next thing I know- an alarms going off, and M's hitting me so I could get up and in the shower.

I'm still drunk.

And I'm going to be sick.

I stumble down the hall to the bathroom and promptly expel all contents in my stomach. At least I got to the toilette. I remember being in the shower, leaning on the wall, because I couldn't stand up without feeling like I was going to fall, and I thought "I'm taking the fastest shower known to man, and I'm going to go back to bed when I'm done, because I don't need this much time to get ready".... as I'm having this thought- there's a bang on the door- Ms M is telling me we have 15 minutes before we have to leave.... OOPS.... I attempt to hurry up, puke before I have to brush my teeth. Get downstairs where Ms. M is making breakfast for us...french toast... I eat, hug my goodbye's and we head out to the airport.

Me: Ummmm..... M???? I think you need to pull over I'm going to be sick.
M: Okay- hold on...

M pulls over, I open the door lean out, and puke along the Stevenson, oh look- french toast!... This happens a couple of times.

The whole time in the car I'm burping lime and tequila.

I'm going to die.

I get to the airport. Hug M goodbye... and wait for 2 hours to board the plane. I want McD's- I NEED McD's. I need hash browns, lots and lots of hash browns, a large coke... I'm dying. There is no McD's at the airport. I settle for a bagel and PRAY this will settle the stomach a bit.

It doesn't- I puke.

I get on the plane. Still burping lime and tequila. I'm going to die. I fall asleep. I hear a ding. I'm thinking there is a God because I just slept the entire flight away and now I'm home where I can get McD's.

WRONG.

The fasten seat belt sign just turned off- I still have the whole two and half hours to go. It's the longest two and half hours of my life...filled with nausea, burping, and the taste of tequila and lime.

I feel bad for the people sitting next to me.

Finally I land in Phoenix. I call mom to tell her I'm here, and when she picks me up we are going to McD's- I need salvation of some sort.

She picks me up with Oma in the car with her. As I'm getting in the car she starts to ask if I had a good time- but she sees my face and asks what the hell I was doing last night... My only response "Tequila, too much tequila". She promptly tells me that I stink, and I recap the evening for her. Oma's not happy with me. Mom's rolling her eyes. I'm dying.

We get to McD's (FINALLY)- no more hash browns being served, so I get massive amount of fries, a burger and coke. Instantly with the first fry- I start to feel better. After the consumption of grease upon more grease- I stop burping lime and tequila. Mom says I'm looking better- but I still stink.

When I get home- I call Ms. M to tell her that I'm home and alive, barely... Then proceed to talk about all the fun we had, the gorgeous dresses we got, and the fun night of facials and tea.

It's an event we both laugh about still...7 years later....and it's an event that still haunts me. If I even so much as smell lime- I start to feel nauseous, let alone actual consumption. Put tequila anywhere near me and I'm dry heaving. I have PTSD. I have tried to consume various tequila bevs, and I might be able to get a sip down, but it's not going to happen.

So, Ms. M- happy 7 year anniversary of almost killing me with alcohol poisoning and killing the youthful love I had for tequila (it was my bev of choice in college).

And a rather large tip for all you kiddies out there that like to travel- DON'T FLY with a hangover- it's not pretty. And always get McD's- ASAP, you'll be happy you did.

Hope everyone's New Year's is a glorious cockful evening.

Peace out 2008.