Only a little stupid.

So my wonderful roommate and I decided to hit up the party train. We downed a shot, got dinner, downed a mixed drink that was mostly booze, and stumbled our way, laughing our asses off back to our dorm at the wee hour of 10:30. No actual party. We talked to party friends, but decided not to go out.

Instead, we ninja snuck across campus. Laughing at everything. Then it decided to downpour so we went and ran in all the puddles we could find while blissfully laughing into the sky. I felt very clean and oddly at peace with the world. It was as if God was pouring out my sadness right on me and letting it all melt away. I was not cold, alcohol's fault, but I felt the world around me touch my heart. I felt truly blessed.

Then we stumbled in. Took another shot. Ran across campus in every puddle to get ice cream because that is what two darling, soaking, hysterically laughing college gals do. Of course. Ice cream in hand, we shuffled across campus again. This time sharing about the joys of being inebriated and just stupid. We don't do stupid very often.

In the dorm we danced and laughed and danced and laughed and fell over on each other and laughed and called boys and laughed  and generally just laughed. I don't know why things were funny, but I know the two of us were laughing so hard that my abs still hurt. We needed that laugh. We deserve that laugh. Gosh darn it, we have been so good we deserve some fun!

Then, Mak, love her, started feeling woozy so the fun slowly died down. We started a movie and gave up because she had to throw up. We trecked downstairs to the empty bathroom that looks like the one from Harry Potter and sat there talking about how much fun we'd been having. She ended up not puking, but we walked back upstairs. She crawled in bed, I filled water bottles and set out the garbage for her to use if necessary. She passed out safely snoring, and I settled in to watch friends. Quiet, me time. Ahh.

I didn't feel sick for more than a minute, but I also drank more water than her... Ahh c'est la vie.

So, now I am wide awake enjoying my time alone, with the sleeping roommate. I'm pondering how I called Neil, Brandon Bowie, Austin, Cole, and Cody and none of them answered, but Austin called me back. He was drunk too. And despite my desire to call Chris out of habit, I made the good drunk decision not to. Partially because I deleted his number and my fuzzy brain couldn't remember it and partially because I know it won't do me any good. Mom was right when we talked this weekend. Calling or talking to Chris won't make any differences in the weird relationship we have. He is going to come and go because he's too dumb to figure out that he might actually like me. And I have the choice to make on whether or not I let him in my life. I thought I wanted to talk to him and figure feelings out and why we do what we do over and over again without changing anything, but it's insane. So, my little drunk butt learned a lesson tonight, call your friends and they'll find you funny. Call an ex and it won't do any good. Ever.

I wish I had some way to prove to you all that I won't go scampering off to talk to him the next time he shows up, but I don't. I wish I had something to prove to myself that I won't want to go scampering back to him the next time he shows up. Maybe, if I write it down every day I might start believing it.... Hmmmm. New idea...

Anyways, despite being pretty darn smashed earlier this evening, I was only a little stupid.