***Warning: this is not a review of Adele’s beautiful 2nd album. It’s more of a tell-all, exposé of this supposed milestone of a birthday…
It’s been a while since I’ve written on this blog, which is ok with me. I have a complicated relationship with having a blog, because on one hand I love writing about funny things that happen to me, what I’ve learned and where I’ve been. On the other hand, I feel a bit awkward talking about myself all the time. Mainly, because I would hate people to get the impression that I am a know-it-all, self-righteous S.O.B.
From my own knowledge and from input of close friends, who would definitely tell me if I was being an asshole, I am not this person. Just merely a twenty-something that feels empowered by female comidiennes like Mindy Kaling, Amy Schumer and Tina Fey, to speak candidly, using arguably too many expletives and run-on sentences. But, ya know what? I’m gonna be real with you all, because I hate fake ass hoes and also I’ve gotten some sweet compliments on my writing, which makes me feel good about me AND I LIKE FEELIN’ GOOD ABOUT ME. I also love gifs and writing in ALL CAPS so sorry if it bugs you, but who am I kidding, if you’re reading this you probably think it’s funny like I do, because you’re weird and I like you. So HERE WE GO:
About last night…
Last night my friends and I celebrated my 21st birthday in the most college-y San Diego way ever: Taco Tuesday in PB (Pacific Beach). I was wearing a trendy faux leather jacket, a $3 black cropped tank from H&M, jeans and black boots that my mom got me for my birthday (thanks mom). I was also adorned with a white and black sash that reads “Ms. Twenty-Fun”. So as you can probably tell I looked pretty fun, which is the look I was going for. The bartenders all wished me happy birthday as they shook the margaritas that enhanced the fun-having immensely and then later, caused a lack of memory and a humbling marathon of vomiting. #21
If you’ve never had the humbling experience of vomiting in public and/or all over friends and loved ones; let me just tell you, it is not G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S. It fucking sucks. But, it’s ok because I like to live my life 95% of the time having my shit together: planning, being a productive human, etc. and the other 5% of the time I like to let loose. This usually entails latin music, a few drinks and some good ol’ fashioned booty-shaking. Then there are those times when a few drinks turns into too many, like yesterday. Although, to be fair, I feel like 21 is kind of a drunken shit show rite-of-passage.
So, yeah all in all I had a good time – from what I can remember. For the record, I hate blacking out. I don’t like being unaware of my body, actions and also, I hate belligerent drunks. So if I was that last night, I am deeply sorry. I’m slightly embarrassed, but more so I just hate being that girl that fucked everyone over because she couldn’t handle her shit. I’ve decided I’m just gonna shake it off and chock it up to being a 21st birthday diva.
Thanks for reading!
Lots of love,