Days till Christmas: 28
And so the Christmas season begins! My office building's lobby is wall-to-wall Christmas decorations, including several hung wreaths that could kill a man if they fell from their perches, and one of the largest Christmas trees I've ever seen, complete with baubles the size of my head. I think it's time to break out my Official Christmas Shirt and start getting wild.
And so the Christmas season begins! My office building's lobby is wall-to-wall Christmas decorations, including several hung wreaths that could kill a man if they fell from their perches, and one of the largest Christmas trees I've ever seen, complete with baubles the size of my head. I think it's time to break out my Official Christmas Shirt and start getting wild.
Hold on to that feelingAlthough I have been debating over whether or not to purchase a second Official Christmas Shirt, since that would give me some variety (and save on washing the same shirt every other day.) I'm looking at a new Johnny Cupcakes shirt, as I'm pretty sure the last one I bought was a limited edition Halloween shirt... two years ago. Oops.
Frosty the Cupcake, or Cupcake Runnings?
Frosty the Cupcake, or Cupcake Runnings?Oddly enough, I went to Hebrew School with the girl in the white shirt, but that is another story for another time. Speaking of other stories, I've been getting ahead of myself, and have yet to tell you all about the insanity and frivolity that was my Thanksgiving Break. So, without further ado, I present to you: Chelsea is a Fat Ass with a Drinking Problem!
Tuesday: After landing at Logan around 1am, I head back to good ol' Hull for some much needed gossiping time with my father and Joanie. I show them pictures of my apartment, we chat about law school and the future, and all-in-all it's disturbingly normal. Except that I go to sleep at 5am and wake up the next day at noon.
Wednesday: My mother and I pretend to be townies and indulge ourselves at Schooners, where everyone knows your name, your height and weight, your Social Security Number, and whether or not you're circumcised (the answer to that is: yes.) We drink bloody Marys - and that is pretty much the moment I decide it'll be a fabulous idea to keep it up for the entire weekend.
Thursday: Thanksgiving! I begin drinking at noon. Hilarity ensues. I meet a guy that's moving to Helsinki, and we discuss the lack of sunlight during their winter days. Somehow I polish off a bottle of wine. And a bowl of spinach dip. And a bowl of pumpkin spread. And a huge plate of stuffing. And a turkey. Etc. Etc. Etc. Embarrassing family tales are told, and I believe everyone within a 10 mile radius knows everything awkward and stupid I've ever done in my entire life. More wine is imbibed.
Thursday Night: Some old friends from home and I meet up with some friends from high school I haven't seen in over 4 years now (god fucking damn, I am so old.) At first I'm rather nervous as saying I used to be kind of a douche is like saying that, oh, Heather Mills is kind of the Anti-Christ. And kind of wobbly. A bonfire is witnessed, many more drinks are tossed back, a $210 tab is issued, and I find myself having the most fun I've had in an embarrassingly long time. Drunken apologies are given, Swisher Sweets are smoked, and a weed dealer named Hans somehow ends up in the car and confuses the hell out of everyone. A 2am road trip to Allston takes place, I fall asleep on someone's ass, and sometime around 4am I realize if I don't start drinking water now, I'll be in for quite a horrible surprise the next day.
Friday 6:00am: I step on the dog and somehow 4 mugs of water magically appear, strewn across the floor. I wonder what the hell I was doing from 4-6am.
Friday: I wake up around 8, disoriented and still reaching for a phantom beer. Hangover sets in. My father calls and wants to go shopping, and suddenly I feel better - there's no better remedy for a hangover than shopping. TVs are discussed, more drinks are had, and I begin to wonder why I ever left college. We have dinner at the Italian restaurant I used to work at, and I get the thrill of seeing the owner's son, the same guy that used to hug us and poke us and flirt with us. By the way, we were 14 when we worked there. Hot!
Saturday: We set off an adventure to Plymouth! Plymouth Rock is gawked at, restaurants are decided on, and I have a moment of mind blowing confusion when I see the signs for the 50th Anniversary of the Mayflower II and read it wrong, thinking it's the 50th anniversary of the original Mayflower. I remind myself that my parents were not 2 and 4, respectively, when the original Pilgrims came over to settle the great Americas. Dinner with my aunt and uncle is eaten, more alcohol is consumed, and more family tales are happily told.
Saturday Night: More shopping commences, and a digital camera is bought (although I have to pretend like I didn't see it, so I can pretend to be excited on Christmas morning.) Jen and I meet up and have a lovely dinner, then finally sit down to watch not only Plan 9 from Outer Space, but Plane 9 from Outer Space with commentary from Mike, the guy from MSTK3000. More hilarity ensues. But then Jen is a two-faced liar and I don't eat the food we bought, and sadness overcomes the world.
Sunday: Kristyn and I set off on our DC Road Trip! We leave at 11:30am, make great time and stop in Middletown, CT to meet up with friends for lunch. We explain the usage of the word "quaint" and explore the town. Delicious pizza is eaten. We leave at 4, we hit traffic along Connecticut. 5pm. 6pm. We hit traffic in New York. 7pm. We get lost off the Tappen Zee Bridge, trying to avoid the mass amounts of traffic. 8pm. We get into New Jersey. 9:30pm. New Jersey fucking sucks. 10pm. We get into Delaware. $3.00 is a ridiculously high toll for driving all of .002 miles within the state. 11pm. We pass Baltimore. 11:30pm. 12 hours after we set out, we arrive in DC! I fall asleep.
And there you have it! My awesomely busy, exciting, thrilling, and drunken holiday! I hope you all had similarly wacky Thanksgivings, and are now getting ready to don your festive, bell-covered reindeer sweaters, drink your egg nog, and sing drunken Christmas carols, cause oops, someone spiked the 'nog again!
Tuesday: After landing at Logan around 1am, I head back to good ol' Hull for some much needed gossiping time with my father and Joanie. I show them pictures of my apartment, we chat about law school and the future, and all-in-all it's disturbingly normal. Except that I go to sleep at 5am and wake up the next day at noon.
Wednesday: My mother and I pretend to be townies and indulge ourselves at Schooners, where everyone knows your name, your height and weight, your Social Security Number, and whether or not you're circumcised (the answer to that is: yes.) We drink bloody Marys - and that is pretty much the moment I decide it'll be a fabulous idea to keep it up for the entire weekend.
Thursday: Thanksgiving! I begin drinking at noon. Hilarity ensues. I meet a guy that's moving to Helsinki, and we discuss the lack of sunlight during their winter days. Somehow I polish off a bottle of wine. And a bowl of spinach dip. And a bowl of pumpkin spread. And a huge plate of stuffing. And a turkey. Etc. Etc. Etc. Embarrassing family tales are told, and I believe everyone within a 10 mile radius knows everything awkward and stupid I've ever done in my entire life. More wine is imbibed.
Thursday Night: Some old friends from home and I meet up with some friends from high school I haven't seen in over 4 years now (god fucking damn, I am so old.) At first I'm rather nervous as saying I used to be kind of a douche is like saying that, oh, Heather Mills is kind of the Anti-Christ. And kind of wobbly. A bonfire is witnessed, many more drinks are tossed back, a $210 tab is issued, and I find myself having the most fun I've had in an embarrassingly long time. Drunken apologies are given, Swisher Sweets are smoked, and a weed dealer named Hans somehow ends up in the car and confuses the hell out of everyone. A 2am road trip to Allston takes place, I fall asleep on someone's ass, and sometime around 4am I realize if I don't start drinking water now, I'll be in for quite a horrible surprise the next day.
Friday 6:00am: I step on the dog and somehow 4 mugs of water magically appear, strewn across the floor. I wonder what the hell I was doing from 4-6am.
Friday: I wake up around 8, disoriented and still reaching for a phantom beer. Hangover sets in. My father calls and wants to go shopping, and suddenly I feel better - there's no better remedy for a hangover than shopping. TVs are discussed, more drinks are had, and I begin to wonder why I ever left college. We have dinner at the Italian restaurant I used to work at, and I get the thrill of seeing the owner's son, the same guy that used to hug us and poke us and flirt with us. By the way, we were 14 when we worked there. Hot!
Saturday: We set off an adventure to Plymouth! Plymouth Rock is gawked at, restaurants are decided on, and I have a moment of mind blowing confusion when I see the signs for the 50th Anniversary of the Mayflower II and read it wrong, thinking it's the 50th anniversary of the original Mayflower. I remind myself that my parents were not 2 and 4, respectively, when the original Pilgrims came over to settle the great Americas. Dinner with my aunt and uncle is eaten, more alcohol is consumed, and more family tales are happily told.
Saturday Night: More shopping commences, and a digital camera is bought (although I have to pretend like I didn't see it, so I can pretend to be excited on Christmas morning.) Jen and I meet up and have a lovely dinner, then finally sit down to watch not only Plan 9 from Outer Space, but Plane 9 from Outer Space with commentary from Mike, the guy from MSTK3000. More hilarity ensues. But then Jen is a two-faced liar and I don't eat the food we bought, and sadness overcomes the world.
Sunday: Kristyn and I set off on our DC Road Trip! We leave at 11:30am, make great time and stop in Middletown, CT to meet up with friends for lunch. We explain the usage of the word "quaint" and explore the town. Delicious pizza is eaten. We leave at 4, we hit traffic along Connecticut. 5pm. 6pm. We hit traffic in New York. 7pm. We get lost off the Tappen Zee Bridge, trying to avoid the mass amounts of traffic. 8pm. We get into New Jersey. 9:30pm. New Jersey fucking sucks. 10pm. We get into Delaware. $3.00 is a ridiculously high toll for driving all of .002 miles within the state. 11pm. We pass Baltimore. 11:30pm. 12 hours after we set out, we arrive in DC! I fall asleep.
And there you have it! My awesomely busy, exciting, thrilling, and drunken holiday! I hope you all had similarly wacky Thanksgivings, and are now getting ready to don your festive, bell-covered reindeer sweaters, drink your egg nog, and sing drunken Christmas carols, cause oops, someone spiked the 'nog again!
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