Filed under: alcohol | Tags: alcohol, alexis, cheese, stalker, tubing, wedding, wisconsin
Read part one of Wisconsin shenanigans!
I was insanely hungover on Friday. After the shit show that happened Thursday night, I sure didn’t think I could make it Friday.
Craig picked Shayla and I up at 9am on Friday and took us back to Shayla’s house to get ready for tubing. Tubing Wisconsin-style isn’t just tubing, it’s a massive beer drinking activity. Beer did not sound good.
On the way to the river, it was “morning share time.” Where people recount what you did the night before… I didn’t want to be involved, but I was the center of the stories. Recap: made out with friend’s brother, got punched, scraped up my entire arm, kissed some other stalker dude who now loves me, took my shirt off. Yep I won the morning recap round.
Craig is a super entertaining person and had us laughing all the way to the river. The downfall was… my head was exploding. There was no time for food and Advil, so we had to go straight for the beer. I wish I could recall all of the entertaining things that Craig had told us, but I was so focused on not dying that I can’t remember it all. What I do remember is that I got made fun of mercilessly for making out with David. Yes, David was along on the tubing adventure. Talk about awkward. I usually don’t have to see my “conquests” the next day. Let alone spend the entire weekend with them… so awesome.
Tubing the river took about 4 hours. It was a beautiful day and it was a very good time, except for the wanting to die a little bit part. I was only able to make it through a half of a beer, so that definitely didn’t help.
Floating the river on that hot day really was a fun experience. I only wish I didn’t have the giant hangover that seemed to linger throughout the day.
The rest of Friday was quite boring, I visited old friends and then Shayla and I called it a night kind of early. The next day was our friend’s, Rebecca, wedding. Shayla had to get ready for the wedding as she was a bridesmaid, so I had the morning to go and see more friends. It was a really nice time… then came the wedding.
We headed to the golf course in the afternoon for one of the most unorganized weddings I’ve ever been to. It ended up being quite cute once it was said and done.
Then came the drinking. I had vowed to take it easy since everyone I knew from middle school, plus all of my parents friends were at this wedding. I knew anything I did would end up back to my parents in no time at all. So at the reception I only got mildly drunk. Mildly drunk Wisconsin-style = like a .15 in a breathalyzer… way too drunk to drive.
I didn’t do anything stupid there. It was at the bar after, that, well… lets just say I’m not too proud. I don’t remember a whole lot of the bar, except hanging out with some old friends. I ended up making out with an old friend, who apparently is married (he said separated) and is someone who I never would have kissed given normal circumstances. Woah I just had a flashback… I remember the shots… oh the shots. Yep, that’s what did me in.
David apparently saw me kissing my old friend, was appalled and proceeded to wipe off his tongue. I guess he didn’t realize that I kiss anybody and everybody. [Sidenote: me making out with someone else didn’t stop David from kissing me later!]
After publicly making out with my old friend, I realized my stalker was in the bar as well. He had joined forces with David to talk about how slutty I was. Great. Just great. Shayla decided it was time for me to exit the bar and called her mom to pick us up. Probably was a good idea because I’m sure I was ready to take my shirt off at any point. As I was exiting the bar, stalker grabbed me and wouldn’t let go.
“Why haven’t you returned my texts. Did I mean nothing to you???”
I told him to let go of me and he wouldn’t. He was holding my arms so tightly I am sure I had a bruise the next day. I kept telling him to get away from me. David saw my struggle and he got out of the car to help me, but I took matters into my own hands…
Stalker wouldn’t let go and he was being creepy so I hit him. Straight up in the face. He let go and I ran and jumped into the car. Not sure what it is about Wisconsin drinking that makes you want to hit people, but there sure was a lot of hitting that weekend.
Back at the house Shayla, David and I decide to watch movies and drink beer. I really didn’t need more beer after the copious amounts of shots that I had. Shayla passed out early… so you know what that means!! Take advantage of her brother on the couch, that’s what that means. Well by take advantage I mean he took advantage of me, because I couldn’t have taken advantage of a mouse that night.
From what I hear, my shirt was off at one point. Shayla had the pleasure of witnessing our make out fondle session and proceeded to ridicule me the next day.
I was awoken to “STOP MAKING OUT WITH MY BROTHER!!!” Shayla yelled at me in a playful-I’m-sort-of-serious way. She wasn’t a fan of the boob fondling I guess!
Yeah it was time for me to go. I haven’t had my ass kicked by drinking in a long time. Wisconsin knows how to party, that is for sure.
I left that morning. Once I returned home, the three men, including my stalker added me on facebook. I did not accept the stalker. He creeps me right the fuck out.
I need some time before I go back to the great cheese state.
-Alexis Patron
Filed under: birds and bees | Tags: alcohol, alexis, bali, bisexual, facebook, gin, husband, indonesia, marriage, men, ring, sex, wedding, wife, women, yoga
Well sort of…
Traveling is always so much fun. Especially when it is international travel. Going abroad to a new country allows for the possibility for the traveler to “let loose.” Well in my case I tend to “let loose” on any given occasion, but apparently found my recent trip to Bali, Indonesia an occasion to REALLY let loose.
I figured since Bali in on the other side of the world the concept of “what happens in [insert vacation destination] stays in [said location,]” to be incredibly true. How would anyone find out about what I did in Bali?
Damn facebook. That’s how.
With the technology revolution, nothing is private anymore. Everyone is bound to find out everything down to the tiniest little mistake you make while on vacation in a foreign country. Nonetheless…..I have an extremely hard time keeping secrets about myself actually secret.
So, of course in light of my new “marriage” I had to tell everyone.
I had a wonderful time in Bali. I was there on a yoga retreat, which was pristine. However, once the three hours of yoga wrapped up for the day… the drinking commenced. Obviously. No better way to regain burned calories than with alcohol.
The biggest drinker of them all? My yoga instructor. Ironic. So, I, of course, happily joined the festivities and purchased a bottle of gin for $2. Anastasia (the biggest gin whore of them all) is so jealous…
Mix my eight months of abstinence (not on purpose,) with a little alcohol, the heat of the equator and a plethora of flexible men doing yoga and you, my friends, have a recipe for fucking disaster. Luckily, all the men I met were gay. Well, at least I thought they were. Until one unfortunate night when I learned of their bisexuality. Queue hormones.
I did not have sex. I wanted to have sex. But no sex happened. So naturally, instead I spiritually married a bisexual man.
It all started when the Balinese thought that my yoga instructor, lets call him Yani, and I were husband and wife. So of course we ran with it and Yani referred to me as his wife for the rest of the trip. I thought it was all fun and games until the concept of “consummating” our marriage came up. I said I wouldn’t put out. (I haven’t quite sorted my feelings on sleeping with a bisexual man yet…) So my “husband” told me he’d be forced to take a second wife who would put out.
I became first wife. It was a fun game. Until I started to realize that he thought of me as actually “spiritually” being his wife.
It wasn’t solidified until he bought me a ring. Yes, a ring. We now have matching wedding rings that have symbols of the earth carved into them. He bought me this ring to symbolize our spiritual union to each other and the earth? Hell if I know, he’s a yoga teacher, it’s all spiritual.
I do not wear the ring on my ring finger, because I would like to get laid sometime, so I wear it on my index finger.
All in all, I did not make too many bad decisions, I only kissed two men, one of which was my husband, and I didn’t fuck any inappropriate people. I only got married, so I’d chock up this trip to a success.
Weddings in Bali are so much better than in Vegas.
-Alexis Patron
Filed under: alcohol | Tags: alcohol, anastasia, boyfriends, ex-boyfriend, wedding
The last five months have been interesting. The good and bad, highs and lows, sober and…well, okay rarely sober. I did it all. But I haven’t been a good friend to those who don’t live within a mile radius of my apartment. So, to them, and to you all-because we’re all friends now- I apologize.
Ask Alexis, I rarely picked up the phone when she called. When I called her back our conversations usually began with her asking “How many boxes of wine tonight?”
What? How many boxes of wine tonight? I’m not exaggerating, it was an appropriate question.
I cut back on sleeping entirely. My solid eight-hours-of-sleep winter quickly transformed into an eight-hours-of-sleep every three days, if I was lucky. My lungs hate me because I’m now officially a smoker, a fact I make no apologies for. My liver has always hated me, but it’s still kickin’.
But why did I disappear? Well, let’s talk about the ex-boyfriend ship. So, it’s like this: I’m standing at the dock talking to the captain. He tells me if I get on the ship, it could take me to an amazing place. I’m talking tropically warm with no humidity and everything I’d ever need would be right there (because that’s what it felt like when I was wrapped up in ex-boyfriend’s arms). So, I ask of the captain what the deal is with the “could” and “might” and otherwise ambiguous phrases he’s using. But he can’t tell me until I the ship leaves port. It all sounds great until I remember my tendency for seasickness (like the time ex-boyfriend “almost” cheated on me, or when he would get angry when I offered help in any given situation, or how rehearsal was always top priority even if I was visiting him from out of the country: all felt exactly like being seasick).
“Don’t get on board,” I tell myself. There are plenty of modes of transportation to get to the warmth at your disposal.
But what if. It’s the what ifs that always get me. What if this is my one moment for greatness with another human being? What if I’m giving up if I don’t seize the moment and get on the ship. What’s a little seasickness if ultimately I get to that place I dreamed of for so long?
So, at a friend’s wedding this summer, I got on board the ex-boyfriend ship. And let me tell you that ship had sailed but I forced my way on and it sank to the bottom of the fucking ocean. No, it didn’t just sink, it combusted and burned all the way down.
What a metaphor! If only I recognized this earlier. But even armored with this knowledge, when your best friend cries to you, when he weeps in your arms, when the man you would have married tells you he loves you and wants to be part of your life- well, how do you combat that?
The last story I posted is how I hoped the wedding would go down. I wanted everything to be perfect and to avoid all awkward situations with ex-boyfriend. The more I told my friends that ex-boyfriend was a figure of the past who I had moved on from, the more I realized I was only trying to convince myself. But when my planned date couldn’t make it to the wedding, I started to worry. I knew, instantly, things would not go as planned.
Ready for the story?
-Anastasia Beam
Filed under: this and that | Tags: anastasia, humor, jackie o, sunglasses, wedding
Spring is among us my friends. The weather is starting to get warmer. I’m feeling the need to devote a paycheck to a pair of Coach sunglasses. And last Saturday I enjoyed my own personal opening night of brown-bag drinking.
It sounds awesome, and I’m genuinely excited for this winter to slip into oblivion, but spring also serves as a sad, sad reminder of the wedding I have to go to in June, and I spent all weekend thinking about it.
Let me count the ways this wedding will be a giant clusterfuck of bad news:
- The mixture of college and high school friends, aka a collective group of people who can piece together all the dirt they know about me when we play “never have I ever” the night before the wedding.
- The drama that comes from the intoxicated concoction of my friends’ mistresses (yes, plural) and their significant others being in the same place, with alcohol, at one time.
- The ex and I both agreeing to share a hotel room with a mutual friend of ours and our joint denial that this is a bad idea and we’re mature enough to handle it.
- The plethora of fake and awkward smiles everyone will need to plaster on their faces to get through a wedding no one except the bride and her mother support.
- My wedding task force.
Somehow a “girlfriend” of mine managed to rope our friend into marriage after she hypnotized and completely changed him through college. While we have all theorized her method of entwining him in her spell of ‘tude and bitchery, no one has been able to figure out exactly how she did it. You’d think she’d blow his mind with constant fucking and fetishes, but one would assume he wouldn’t complain about a lack of bedroom activity if that were the case.
Everyone has one friend who is willing to throw it all away for one crazy bitch, right?
I’m feeling a lot of pressure to look smokin’ hot at this wedding since I’ll be seeing ex boyfriend, so to make sure I’m at my best I’m putting together a wedding task force. Everyone on my team plays an intricate role in ensuring I’m not a hot mess.
Clothing: a chic lady friend of mine is Secretary of Dress. She’s stylish and knows how to save a few bucks. I’m trusting her to put together some slamming outfits that accentuate my tatas without making me look slutty.
Mental: Alexis is covering the mental preparations. She’s going to coach me on the proper ratio of class to attitude to subtly remind everyone how much better than them I am. Extensive time will go into lessons on how to interact with exboyfriend and recognizing when to walk away before allowing a fight to brew. Picking out the hottest guy to make out with will be covered as well. Most importantly, Alexis is going to make sure I deal with the bride properly. I understand that it is her special day, but in a perfect world she wouldn’t treat the other 364 days of the year the same way. I can’t be the hot mess that “accidentally” spills red wine on the bride.
Chastity/ general fabulousness: My chastity belt comes in the form of my date. Unfortunately, since I’ve been overwhelmed with losers lately, I’m bringing a gay friend of mine as my date. He’s amazing. Together, we will be the life of the party. With him sleeping next to me as well, I won’t be able to drunkenly attempt anything with anyone.
Last night we practiced crossing our knees and chain-smoking cigarettes while drinking liquor on the rocks. I’ll wear fabulous Jackie O sunglasses, start every sentence with “Oh” and annunciate random words. “Oh, Manhattan is just FAAA-BULOUS in April!” or “Oh, darling, we just HAAAVE to get back to the Hamptons,” and “Oh, SO good to see you. It’s been SO long,” My date will follow everything up with a catty laugh, while adjusting his RayBans and exhaling cigarette smoke deeply. We’re bringing back 1960s socialite, hardcore.
Just call me Jackie, bitches.
This wedding will be a hot mess. I will most likely be a train wreck, but at least I know I’ll look hot while going down in flames.
-Anastasia Beam
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