A Christmas Story

I know, I already blogged about Christmas and it was super “I feel so loved” and that’s great. But there’s a better Christmas story that I need to jot down super quick.

My sister came down from Wakulla County to visit me here in Orlando and I was determined that we would have a good time. I wanted to show her the city life, hit bars downtown, walk everywhere, and drink a ton of wine. To that end, I was super successful!

At the pool! On Christmas!

But there’s a little problem with “not having to drive to bars,” and that is “I erroneously believe I can drink as much as I can order and end up shit faced.”

Christmas timmmmme is heeeeeere!

See, what had happened was…

It was two days before Christmas and I wanted to go to Frosty’s Christmas Time Lounge downtown. So my sister and I got dressed in reasonably cute outfits with comfortable shoes for walking and headed to the bars downtown.

  • First stop – the smoke shop for cloves.
  • Second stop – the Harp and Celt for a beer to warm up.
  • Third stop – Frosty’s Christmas Time Lounge.
  • Planned Fourth Stop – Joysticks for games and such
  • Planned Fifth Stop – Food

Everything was going according to plan on the first and second stops. The only outlier was that I had to finish my sister’s beer at the Harp and Celt. And because we are both trying to not-be-fat, two beers on an empty stomach had me feeling nice and loose.

We meandered over to Frosty’s and it was the Christmas Lounge of my dreams! And their menu has boozy snowballs! And Christmas time shots!!!

Eggnog and such!

So… of course I had to try a couple of shots (those four are for two people) and I had to get a snowball.

I should have known the situation was getting dire when I started taking selfies with Santa.

But no… I kept going… rounding out the remaining two un-tried shots and then finally cashing out my tab.

At that point I realized “We need food.” So instead of going to any other bars, we walked toward a pizza place on Eola. We sat down in a booth and ordered a pizza to go while I started explaining to my sister all the money she would get if I die which has to be the WORST conversation to have while drunk but for whatever reason I thought it was a good time.

We headed to my place to crash and there we consumed AN ENTIRE LARGE PIZZA between the two of us. I distinctly remember two pieces being left, me going for the next to the last piece and her asking “are we about to eat this whole pie?” and I was like “YES WE ARE!”

Then I laid down on the floor in my pretty red plaid dress and kicked off my shoes and prayed for the spins to stop.

They didn’t.

So I did what any responsible adult would do even though they are completely wasted: Changed into pajama’s, took off all of my jewelry, tied my hair back, and expelled the demon Christmas shots from my body.

Then I crawled back to the couch, clinging to the wall for support, and eventually passed out. My sister covered me with a blanket and left Burlesque on in the background (so sweet).

The best part? This entire escapade was signed, sealed, delivered, and passed out by 11:30pm. Because that’s how I roll.

I managed to pull my life together for the rest of her visit where we took a photo in front of a snowflake and then laid out on the couch for two full days before she departed on Christmas Eve.

I love her.

And that, my friends, is my Christmas 2017 story. <3

2 thoughts on “A Christmas Story

  1. It’s okay – I laughed the next morning when I saw all my jewelry laid out so nicely on my bedside table and realized I’d taken my make-up off and basically had the most adult-drunk session of my life. I’ve truly arrived. 😉

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