fml

so, i don't get hangovers. literally. never. this fact made me completely unprepared for yesterday's events. allow me to start at the beginning:

the day started out innocently enough. i woke up bright and early and drove down to little rock to attend my favorite one-year-old's birthday party. it was super fun, and the little guy had a blast. aunt melissa threw back a few beers, but that's to be expected. after all the kiddies were gone and the supplies were packed away, a few of us decided to go downtown and grab some drinks before going home. i had approximately two and half beers before making the trek back to conway. i think that brought my grand total for the day to, like, eight cervezas. that's really not so bad, right? i should've been fine. famous last words. i fell asleep shortly after getting back to my apartment at around five. i woke up to my phone ringing at a little after 9. a FOUR HOUR nap on a sunday evening, ladies and gentlemen. while on the phone it occurred to me that i had a massive headache and that my stomach felt horrible. after we hung up, i decided to eat something, figuring that it had been like ten hours since i ate and that hunger must be the problem. so i have a granola bar and lay back down, feeling terrible. about 20 minutes later, i made a mad dash for the bathroom and vomited the entire contents of my tummy, perhaps including some small organs. i was sweating, i was almost in tears, and my hands wouldn't stop shaking. i called ol' scott and bitched and moaned and pitied myself as though i am the only human who's ever suffered like that. in his head, i'm sure he was thinking, "oh, for pete's sake, get over it woman." but outwardly, he was very sweet and full of good advice and optimism. after we hung up, i laid down again, thinking that i could fall asleep and be done with it. it worked, for about ten minutes. i then got up and puked AGAIN, only this time, i have no idea what i could've been getting rid of and my best guess is my stomach lining. then i cried myself to sleep. you read that correctly. i cried a little kid cutting the biggest onion ever, and re-ran the day's events in my mind, trying to figure out how the hell this all happened. a simple math problem should demonstrate it well: 8 beers + 0 ounces h20 + 95 degree heat + 600% humidity = feeling like dog shit for the rest of the night. good work, melissa. you are officially a dumb ass. and the worst thing about it is that i started my day at a baby's birthday party. good example for the children, yes?

there you have it kids: mama's first real hangover. tsk, tsk. just had me a cheeseburger and a real coke and i am on the road to recovery. i don't expect any sympathy; i know you've probably all gone through this before, perhaps multiple times. more belated rites of passage next time, when our topic will be "the time i got my driver's license" or maybe "the first time i got cramps."