OH.
MY.
DEAR.
LORD.
Not yet hearing the message I reportedly left my darling roommate last Wednesday night, I can only wonder if it as incoherent as my last post.
My last post, I must add, that I have NO MEMORY writing.
Zip. Zero. Zilch.
Imagine my shock & horror (and, I must admit, somewhat delighted surprise in my unbelievably accurate spelling) when I just now, at 3pm on Sunday, checked my website and saw that there was a new post. “Who broke into my computer and sabotaged my site?” I wondered. Then I read it, and realized I’ve reached an all-time new low. Not only have I now started a disturbing trend of drunk-blogging, mind you, but apparently I have now been drunk-blogging with blackout. A frightening phenomena, if I do say so.
Think of the implications! I could have broken all of my self-imposed blogging rules, leaving a post naming each and every one of my current crushes among other travesties. I could have elaborated! I could have given details! Aghast, I am.
And now, after 11 days, two sunburns, 70+ drinks, 3 unidentified bruises, 4 states, one episode of “The Bachelor” being taped at my hotel, approximately 29,313,398 calories, 12 ski runs, and insurmountable amounts of laundry, I have returned to Atlanta, a bit travel-weary and wondering what I own that is clean and is NOT a pair of pj pants that I can wear to the Superbowl Party in a few hours. I return with a rested mind, two overdrafted bank accounts, a massive expense report to file, and some pictures that will never be aired on this, or any, website. Despite all the fun, all the stories, all I can say is that sometimes the best place to be is at home – especially when a boy makes you breakfast.
AubreySabala.com 
I. TOLD. YOU.
Eh, it’s not embarassing. Although those pictures may be. Format memory card, I say. At least your spelling was spot-on. And, at least, you wrote something about what you DIDN’T do while totally wasted, instead of about something you DID do.
All that being said, off to the Superbowl! According to the annual player-vs.-player videogame tournament (which has never been wrong in 8 years), the Patriots will lose. Let’s see if this odd superstition is right for the ninth year in a row. And don’t get me started on the ‘Madden curse’ wherein, every player to grace the cover of the video game has has a horrible subsequent season. I find these things odd, yet fascinating.
O. So sad. I missed your all-drunk-all-time self but that shall be remedied the NEXT time you’re in our fair left-coast city.
You know, your posts while smashed are better than most folks’ when sober.
Good on ya, I say.
I think both the post and the fact that you can’t even remember writing it is hilarious!
Damien Rice? Fantastic! May I recommend two books, Vernon God Little by D B C Pierre and The Five People You Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom. The denouement of the latter almost fetched tears to my eyes. Beautiful story.