Yesterday was my 24th birthday, and good news: I remember it!!
I had one mission, starting out the evening: Don’t pass out before my last guest leaves…or arrives, for that matter. I am notorious for throwing a party and being completely unconscious in my bed, by midnight. I literally don’t greet half the people that come to my parties. It’s so unfortunate.
I’ve learned a few things from celebrating my birthdays over the years:
- Don’t mix liquors.
- Don’t stand on top of the bar and demand everyone sings you Happy Birthday. It’s really hard to walk away with dignity, when they refuse.
- Do not try to take 21 shots on your 21st birthday. Just don’t do it.
- Don’t party next to your bicycle. You may end up in a heap on the floor, with it.
- Do NOT let anyone hijack your music. It’s your party and if you want to listen to Spice Girls, then Spice Girls shall be listened to, damn it.
- Graciously accept free birthday shots.
- Slyly throw free birthday shots over your shoulder.
Armed with those lessons learned, I proceeded to have a pre-game soiree at my place, followed by an adventurous night of bar hopping in the previously dangerous and currently “alternative” Deep Ellum.
It all started with a T-shirt.
I slightly altered the shirt to add a few years. Joy further modified my shirt to decrease the conservatism.
Despite sneakily slipping my birthday shots to Sreetham all night, I woke up this morning with a deep hatred for alcohol, bruises galore, and a strong craving for a greasy hamburger (or 6 slices of bread, which is what I ended up eating).
I am really feeling my age.