Wicked Wednesdays all began with this post. I'll regale you with another night of drinking that went horribly, horribly wrong. If you are under the age of consent for wherever you live in the universe, take these as cautionary tales. If you are like me and have had your share of poor judgement moments, then we can laugh together. Yes that is a picture of me with a lampshade on my head, doing the shimmy. I will not be posting the names of my cohorts in these wanton ways, but for clarification, will identify them by an initial of their names.
It all started innocently enough. I'd won a Pretty Party at Benefit Cosmetics. Let me start by saying that I NEVER win anything that I actually want or could use. I had entered a raffle for various prizes during AIDS Walk San Francisco, as a star walker (one who raises over $1,000). I have entered this same raffle for 10 years, and have been walking for 20. I should also mention that I do not wear make up, much to my mom's chagrin. This Pretty Party was for 10 people, and while I do not personally wear any makeup, I do have several friends who do, and who also use Benefit's line and LOVE it. A few of my friends decided to stay overnight in the city, and I was invited to stay with a couple of them. Totally cool, and fun! The Benefit employees were super nice, and not what I'd envisioned (think snotty suburban department store cosmetics counter). They waxed, they tweezed, they powdered and painted and made us all feel great! We also had happy hour snacks and wine (whites). Following the party, we walked up the street to dinner, more wine (reds this time), desserts and drinks. Great fun and food and friends! My issues did not occur until much later when my stomach decided a mass evacuation was in order. I honestly tried not to wake my roommates (unsuccessful no doubt), as my entire body rid itself of every morsel of food and drink in any direction available. It was ugly. It was gross, and when it was all over, there was cleanup involved. AND when I finally stumbled back to bed, I was only to awaken later with a killer hang over. I really have no clue what happened the rest of the weekend because it was overshadowed by how I felt. That was the first instance of red wine not agreeing with me, but not the last. It has however colored how I think of red wines.