iPhones and Heinekens

Last night my cousin recalled the first time I ever drank alcohol. And then proceeded to attempt to bring me back to the state I was in that summer night over international waters crammed in a tiny room with the 4 boys I love the most in this world. (I allowed him to because 1. I haven't been out in a really long time and 2. it was my brothers birthday so we were celebrating for him). It worked for the most part, however 151 desguised in a shampoo bottle does something to your brain/body that 3 heinekens and 1/2 an AMF can't do to you. Thank goodness.

But being here in the states instead of in the middle of the ocean on your way to Jamaica, or Mexico, or the Grand Cayman Islands or wherever we were headed that particular night allows for the use of cellphones - my worst enemy on drunken nights.

My name is Taylor and I'm a serial drunk dialer.

This started the second time I ever drank alcohol (at home in my brothers room the summer before college). I called nearly everyone in my phone and left wonderful messages for all of them. Now 4 years later I've moved on from drunk dialing to drunk texting... ohhhhh technology. I usually remember to delete phone numbers before going out, or to give my phone to someone to hold, and in the worst of cases I delete all my text messages before reading them in the morning... but last night I braved carrying my phone around and then proceeded to read my text messages this morning.

The winning texts of the night:

"adios mother f*****"

(without the asterisks... that would be the name of the drink my cousin handed to me when I returned from the restroom)

"hes cute but kinda looks like a horse"

"your taking up 60% of my brain"

The first two were sent to my mother who responded with "hahaha oh God" and called me this morning to ask if "adios mother f*****" meant that I had a bad night.

The last was sent to a boy I shouldn't be texting sober (let alone drunk) and received no response until much later this morning. I was utterly terrified upon reading it, threw my phone across my room and rolled over to go back to sleep.

I'm an honest drunk.

My deepest most darkest secrets come out while intoxicated.

If I miss you, you're going to get a text message that says so.

If I think someone looks like a horse, well... I'll probably just tell my mother that.

If I've stalked you on Facebook in the last week you're going to know within a few minutes of me reciting your life story back to you based on the information I've gathered from your public webpage...

Sometimes this is problematic, other times it makes for some REALLY good stories once the embarrassment has subsided.

My mom and I had a great conversation when I finally crawled out of bed and the boy whose was in 60% of my brain apparently had me in some % of his and we had an awkward coffee session this morning (awkward only because I'm awkward, and don't do well with my heart telling me one thing and my brain another... but my coffee was good, and conversation was good, and seeing said boy was good, and it got me away from my Christmas tree that is brutally attacking my eyes, throat and skin for about an hour).

The moral of this post is that if you receive a random or intensely honest text message from me late at night assume I'm intoxicated, delete it, and then pretend I never sent it. Because that's what I'll do and we can all live happily ever after.

The end.