And no that is not a drunken promise... that is me acknowledging I am too old for getting shitfaced drunk and passing out, and too young to lose my liver through all-night puking. Ugh!
The martini party started at 4pm under docile conditions, there was plenty of snacks on the table and full bottles of vodka and mixers in the kitchen, ice and frozen limes and the like. Then the drinks started to follow each other in a liquid folly, I won't go into details because my stomach is heaving just thinking about it - suffice to say that at some point in the evening I passed out cold.
I remember waking up on my bed at some point, it's dark and I'm alone (thank the fuck christ) in ripped fishnets and a too-tight dress, I just made it to the bathroom in time... ugh. Had not been sick on alcohol in 10 years.
Then I msm'd Vegas (so he tells me) between bouts of passing out again, I was supposedly not making much sense and he felt helpless so that sucked... did I tell you I had to work today? Yep. 20 hours after the first martini and here I am at the office, still dizzy and ill.
This one is not going down in history as being "good times"!
Tally came to about 3/4 bottle vodka per person.