Fucking B-A-N-A-N-A-S

Last night I went to a mini-party. It was at the house of a friend of a friend, let's call her Toni, and I knew only the friend I went with. For the first three hours, we sat around waiting for "the gay guy with the alcohol" to get there. Everyone else had gone to high school together and mostly talked about people from there, so I was bored out of my ass. Then the gay guy got there. I'll call him Jake, because that's what I named him last night after forgetting his real name. Where I got Jake, I have no idea, but turns out his first crush was named Jake. I'm psychic. Anyways.

How many times do I have to regret doing vodka shots before I stop fucking doing them? Something tells me that this time will do it. We started drinking at 12:30. An hour later, I was drunk as hell, thought these people were hilarious, and fucked a random guy in Toni's brother's bedroom. Without a condom. Laughing through some parts of it. Immediately after, I rolled over and started vomiting into a trash can. This lasted for about, oh, my entire life. Naked except for a bra, I woke up at 7 AM to a nasty hangover, which is still going on, thank you very much. Oh yeah, and I was in a shower. And the shower was in a flooded bathroom. Jake told me that Toni had pulled me there last night, turned the water on, and fallen asleep. I had, of course, passed out in the shower, water still streaming gloriously.

That flooded-ness was on the second floor, and it caused serious water damage to the first-floor ceiling: big-ass water spots, water dripping out of the fucking vents, shit like that. Toni's mother is coming home tonight. These things do not mix well together. If we couldn't either find a way to fix this shit without her mother knowing or come up with a damn good excuse, her mom would, according to Toni, "go out of her way to make [my] life a living hell." And nobody likes a living hell. It was fucking go-time.

Unfortunately, I was sick and out of it-I couldn't do shit about anything besides freak out and say "I can't get kicked out I can't get kicked out" over and over. Armed with a (small) towel in addition to my bra, I crawled into a closet and passed out again.

Thank god Toni eventually came up with something that her mom believed, but that was scary as hell. And now, big shock, I have a cold from sleeping naked in a freaking waterfall. I also can't get a prescription for Plan B because no Planned Parenthoods or anything like that near me are open. So that's where my life is at right now: sick, hungover, and possibly infected with cooties. Great.

-G

(Bet you all thought this was SC, didn't you? Sex, drunk things, crazy situations, possible herpes. Well look who's fucked up now, bitches? WUT! [No offense SC]

Oh, and I told the guy I was a virgin beforehand-he kept saying "are you sure about this, you have to say it" and I finally said "fine, whatever, fuck it." I am tres romantic. But that's not the point-after he left the room, he apparently told everyone that he felt so bad because he had no idea I was a virgin. Such a lie, but whatever, I didn't even know how to pronounce his name until after he stripped off my clothes.)