Fight For Your Right

   Last night I was awarded the highly prestigious award of World's Drunkest Bitch. This doesn't happen to me very often; I'm used to awards like World's Bitchiest Bitch or World's Most Uptight Bitch or World's Most Politically Correct Bitch, but Drunkest? Not my thing. (Not anymore anyway; I was a frequent winner of this award in high school, but I started counting drinks as I went by senior year and really steadied myself. I'm a pretty reliably sane drunk. Except sometimes I still lose count and that's how last night's events unfolded.) So last night, we started at Hammer Time and very quickly moved on to Drunk Bitch O'Clock.
   Needless to say, there was much foolishness. I have the unfortunate tendency of making a spectacle out of myself while inebriated (but seriously, who doesn't?)

   List of Ridiculous/Regrettable?/Awesome Decisions I Made:

- Getting into repeated arguments with some kid who goes to school with Bobby McGee

(Sample: Upon eavesdropping on mine & Esther's conversation, he laughed and interjected telling me "Communicative isn't a word." (I had been expressing my pleasure that we are becoming so "nonverbally communicative" after she had understood that when I pointed to her and then waved towards myself it had meant I wanted her to come towards me.) "Oh really?" I asked, with a level of aggression absolutely not required whatsoever. I then proceeded to text Google to ask for the definition and then wave my phone in front of his face declaring "I'm an English major, bitch! I know shit about words and shit!" I think that sentence was a shining example of my mastery of the spoken word, personally.)
- Freestyling about everything in my immediate surroundings with a heavy emphasis on derivatives of the word "motherfucker." (Sample: It's the mothafuckin' weekend and we're going to a party and we're gonna have the best time and everybody's gonna dance it up and I'm gonna fuckin' rock this shit, mothafuckin' own the dance floor...) (I apparently see no use for rhyming or rhythm after a certain number of beers. Although I couldn't tell you what number because, as I mentioned, I lost count.)
- Dancing excessively at every opportunity, at times creating opportunities for dancing that did not exist and were not appropriate.
- Convincing my 16 year old friend to meet me at the bar.
- Sitting on a couch with the girl hosting the after party and revealing highly classified and personal information about my sexual history.
- Sitting on a couch with Bobby McGee sobbing uncontrollably begging for us to be "us again."
(More on that later)
- Sitting on a bed with aforementioned 16 year old best friend crying about Mr. Fantasy
(The less I remember about that, the better)
- Rejoining the party with still-watering eyes and being told by the boy from the first example that I'm "beautiful," responding with "I know," rolling my eyes and walking away.
- Giving an a capella performance Salt-N-Pepa's hit song "None of Your Business" to everyone at the party, including numerous people I have only met one time.
- Getting into an argument with an acquaintance who used the "n" word, which basically consisted of me getting extremely offended, him not caring, me telling him he disgusts me, leaving the room and, again, bursting into tears.

   So, not only was I the Drunk Bitch, I was the Angry-Argumentative-Inappropriate-Bad Influence-Crying-Arrogant-Yelling-Crying-More Drunk Bitch.

   Despite this, it was actually a pretty enjoyable night, and that conversation with Bobby McGee was overdue and necessary. The tears? Not so much, but not the end of the world.

   I'm totally hungover and running on like 3 hours of sleep. I just wanted to share my poor life choices with you guys. Hey, that's what we're here for, right?

UPDATE: One of my favorite friends just told me over facebook that I "kept it classy" last night. Reasons I love her?