This past weekend. I got to experience a fuck ton of partying. Because I couldn’t handle staying in for the night. I jumped on my first invites to get the fuck out. Friday. Drowning from my thoughts, my fantastic best friend Brooke called me in the midst of TERRIBLE thoughts. Got me to go to a party. Had a hit from a blunt, and a fat shot of Captain with some juice. Eventually. Go white girl was said by several, multiple different times. First time being hit on in regular clothes since I’ve had braces. Lame, right? Everyone was apparently younger than me by a touch. But I didn’t mind at the time. I felt buzzed, dancing my ass off. All up on my good friends. No guys, of course. Just not something I’ve wanted. Ever. Maybe behind closed doors. Haha. I don’t need to see or feel what looks to be sex on the dance floor. I’m cool off that. No matter how much I love dancing. Then we left the party for hookah. Did you know Cobblestone moved? They still exist, this time with a dance floor at the new location. And hookah is hella cheap for being so new there. Taco Bell and bowls before bed with theeee same friends. Saturday, I got to spend my whole day sober with my friend Lisa and her bitty baby. 🙂 Later leaving to a party with an old friend, cute, of course. 😉 I wore classy like clothes when with Lisa, stuck out like a sore thumb at this party. Even though I was surrounded by people I’ve known for years. All grown up. Even though I’ve changed so much, it painfully brought me back to the way I was at the end of highschool. No longer able to get comfortable around those I know. Or once knew. Also. It didn’t help to have done so myself. I screwed up. I said hello to an old friend. By name. So, I said I was Rachel, its me. From avid? He remembered me, noticing I looked hella different. Braces, entirely different hair style, and even skinnier than I was. From then on. Who you with? Rachel, from Avid. Introduced to others, Rachel from avid. It eventually stopped being said, I was just Rachel. But it was stuck in my head. I felt awful. I wanted to run. I refused. I wanted to stay, truly. I had to. I wanted to see at least whom I was with. Even though I remained away, its a party, he didn’t need me at his side. Thats ridiculously stupid. I tried to mingle, once I chugged my second beverage. Started talking to one girl. My 2nd question she turned and looked away. I wasn’t welcome. I drank more. I danced more. I got called over for a blunt. Drunk as fuck. Just. Gone. Dancing was all I could focus on, and strangely, his face. He stayed in place, when everyone went blurry. His face stayed clear. I thought that was the most interesting fact of the night. I got really sick later in the night. I had had too much, I had over done it, I was too far gone. Nothing could focus me. The drive back was brutal. Having to focus on the speedometer to not pass out or get sick. I did well. 🙂 I’m good at not getting sick except where permitted. Passing out the second I closed my eyes. Waking up this morning. I was still drunk a touch. With my first hangover attached. My best friend Ana being the only one to get me off my ass. Somehow waking me at 8 to a silent text. Less than 5 minutes after her text I replied. Somehow we are that much in sync. Even now, with her being at the top of Oregon in the heart of Portland. My best friend and I stay connected. Forever connected. Going back to sleep for several more hours. Waking up, Black Ops 2. Intense, i am not that good at it. But he was. Damn. He was. I think I died every round after level 5 haha. Him having to revive me every time. Continuing to level 21. Then I felt grumpy from being so terrible with also being a bit hungover. It was time to go. Missing out on Panera with my best friends down here. Which blows, I crave that damn soup. Would’ve been beautiful for my hangover. Instead. I slept more. I’m still a bit hungover. A full 20 hours later. Thought I’d share my fun filled weekend. Through the good and bad bits, I stayed strong. I may have gotten sick, and needed to drink so much from the people I was around. I handled it. And I forced myself to enjoy it. I may be hungover. But it was a very successful weekend.