My 23rd birthday was kind of a blur. And by that, I mean that I drank myself into a stupor long before my party started.

Less than a year out of college, and my pal Mark and I were stoked that Daddy gave me a keg for my birthday. So excited, in fact, that Mark came over 3 hours before the party started to help me tap the keg.

Of course, with a big keg like that, we couldn’t just let it sit there. So we started drinking…

A few hours later, my first set of guests arrived. The party was essentially an open house pool party, in which guests came and went, swam or didn’t, drank, ate (I think), and enjoyed the merriment. When the first set of guests arrived, I was, at least, still coherent.

As this was long before my catering days, and my experience with being a good hostess including offering a variety of booze for my guests to sample, I had made a fancy fruity punch, but didn’t really have a lot in the way of food. We had burgers and hot dogs from Flaherty’s (my family’s bar), but not much else. Mark was in charge of grilling.

You can see where this is going.

So we did get hungry, and made some burgers and dogs for everyone at about 2:30… but that was the last I remember regarding food.

The party started hoppin’ and I ended up in the pool. Instead of continuing with the beer drinking, I switched to Vodka. Let me tell you right now. Vodka and the sun do. not. mix. ever. Also, never let other people make your drinks. I believe that I was drinking Vodka and club soda, and boy were there strong.

By about 4:30 (I’m told), Mark was passed out in my bed. I followed shortly, though my passing out happened on the bathroom floor.

I woke up several hours later, to discover a slew of new guest arrivals in my living room, others outside in the pool, and me groggy with a hint of drunkover (the point where you’re still drunk, but feeling the hangover).

After conversing with the guests, I discovered several who had come and gone during my ‘party break’ time. Those remaining were the out-of-town guests who came up to party with me…Of course, I was a mess and certainly done drinking. But the way I see it, it’s better than the 22nd birthday, in which two friends showed up, and we went to see Ratatouille (OK that was cool in its own right).

sigh