What I Learned Over Christmas Vacation

  1. Baby Audrey is now smiling and more adorable than ever.
  2. Baby Audrey knows how to celebrate Christmas in style. Not bad for a first-timer!
  3. Tim is still the world’s best gift-giver. In addition to the most perfect calendar ever to grace an editor’s desk, he gave me a new camera (in purple!) and a garage door opener (so long, ice scraper!) (His parents also gave me a [slightly nicer] camera, but it was black, not purple. What’s a girl to do? Why, return both cameras in exchange for the nicer camera in purple, of course!) (Am surprisingly high maintenance, it would seem.)
  4. (Yes, those are High School Musical scrapbooking stickers you seen in the background. What of it?)

  5. My parents make a damn good prime rib dinner — complete with garlic mashed potatoes (yum!), broiled sweet potatoes (double yum!), and green beans with mushrooms and sliced almonds (OMG yum).
  6. I love wine. (I may have already known that…)
  7. Brewery tours are fun and delicious…

    but drinking many small servings of beer (where “many” equals “sixteen samples over the course of three breweries”)…

    gives me the hiccups. For five hours.

    I sure hope you all had fun and educational holidays as well!

Deep Thoughts from Three-Martini Tim

“You know what was a great invention? Meat.”

Happy 4th of July from Two-Mojito Audrey!

Dude, This One Time I Was SO DRUNK . . .

Alternately titled: The One About Drinking Nights

Back in college, when My College Roommate and I lived over the line, Drinking Nights were a much-anticipated weekly event. Sometimes there was a theme, sometimes there was a movie (although it was rarely a good movie), and sometimes a bunch of us just got together with no concrete plan for the evening. Always there was drinking (although it was not always good liquor), and always there was fun.

As my memories of Drinking Nights are understandably lacking a bit of clarity, here are a handful of highlights from some of the most memorable Drinking Nights:

  • Zoolander Drinking Night: We drank whenever anyone said “Hansel . . . he’s so hot right now.” And at lots of other times, too. I finished off the remainder of a bottle of silver tequila. It had been opened previously, so it was certainly not a full bottle, but it was full enough. Too full, even. Suffice to say I really can’t handle tequila shots anymore. I’m not too broken up over it, though.
  • Cannibal! The Musical Drinking Night: Is it possible that we drank through the whole movie and then put it on again with the directors’ commentary and drank along with the commentators? I think that was the plan, but I’m almost positive it wasn’t carried out completely. We started out drinking every time anyone said “Shpadoinkle.” Twenty minutes and too many Shpadoinkles to count later, we agreed we didn’t have to drink every time the word was uttered.
  • Hooters Wings Drinking Night: We celebrated our friend John’s return to meat-eating with a big bucket of wings. And, naturally, lots of booze. I don’t remember much about that night, but I do remember waking up in the morning and finding John, sans shirt, sleeping face-down on our kitchen floor. His shirt was in the sink . . . along with all of the wings he’d eaten. Lauren was particularly distraught that no matter how many times she washed John’s Dave Matthews Band shirt, there was no salvaging it.
  • White-Trash-turned-Pimps-and-Hos Drinking Night: This picture pretty much sums up the tone of the evening. Our friend Amanda brought a bucket of chicken, a case of bad beer, and a fatherless baby (doll) with a cigarette hanging out of its mouth. Our friend Justin showed up in a mustard-stained wife beater. Tim, Lauren, and I got decked out in thrift-store pimp hat and bling (Tim), fishnets and knee-high boots (Lauren), and a mini skirt and a Victoria’s Secret shirt that had never before seen the light of day because it turned out to be far more Hooker than it had appeared in the catalog (me). Tim taped a week’s worth of Jerry Springer for us to watch that night. Over the course of the evening pretty much everyone wore my purple eyelashes.
  • The Puke Bath: Yes, it is exactly as gross as it sounds. At the end of one Drinking Night, a very drunk John puked in the tub. Lauren, kind soul that she is, turned on the bath water to wash the tub out. John, drunk as he was, stripped down to his boxers, told Lauren a bath was just what he needed, and, oblivious to Lauren’s cries of protest, climbed in.
  • Miscellaneous Drinking Nights: There was a stain on the carpet for months after a night when Lauren and Tim accidentally got drunk while I was in Spain. There were countless runs across the street to Blockbuster to grab the next on the list of poorly made B horror movies Tim loved watching so much. There was a forearm covered in magic marker tally marks the night Lauren decided to keep track of how many shots she drank. And there was laughter, the kind that leaves you gasping for air, clutching your stomach, knowing that your abs will be sore in the morning.

Oh, Drinking Nights! What fond-but-fuzzy memories I have of you!

Weekend Debauchery — Good for Your Health?

My weekend in Madison, as told through simple picture math:

+

=

and

and

and also

In conclusion, what do you think it means that after a weekend of doing pretty much nothing but drinking, my Wii Fit age went from 35 on Thursday (the day Tim brought it home) to 23 on Monday? I’m pretty sure it means I need to drink more.

A Confession … brought to you by the letter W*

I will not eat in/bring food into the bathroom because I am too afraid of floating particles of … icky stuff … landing on the food. Strangely, I am not afraid of this same thing happening to my toothbrush. For some reason food is different.

(I will probably regret this post in the morning. But on the bright side, that’s just more motivation to get my ass in gear and write something new to bump this stupid drunk post off the top of the blog!)

*W is for Wine!

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