In attempt at becoming classier, I decided to switch from Smirnoff to Skyy, a vodka that’s much more expensive but gets you equally as drunk. Unfortunately, a pretty label won’t save you from embarrassment, which is why I continue to pull the exact same belligerent shit as I did when I was 15. And I will tell you, I am fine with this. This is what people don’t understand. People think it’s humiliating to get drunk and do things you wouldn’t soberly. I disagree. As Chelsea Handler thinks that sleeping around is a great way to get to know people (which I strongly agree with, for the record), heavy drinking has the same effect. I have made friends in elevators, in restaurants, at Shabbat services, on the street, and in my own house from simply being intoxicated. I don’t mean to toot my own horn or anything, but this is a practice I thrive in.
This doesn’t change when I’m around my friends, who although do fancy themselves the drinkers are nowhere near my level. A few weeks ago, all of the Jews got together for a pre-final’s week partay. Gatherings like this usually entail a mild amount of drinking, TV watching and awkward conversation about Ducks for Israel drama and/or the latest bets in the upcoming Hillel elections. You may have a hard time believing this, but this is my hell.
Any situation is tolerable when heavy drinking is involved, which is why heavy drinking immediately became involved. To my surprise, many people followed suit, and the humorless drama-addicted Jews that normally would have condescendingly asked if “I was feeling okay” when drinking were now acting like desperate drunken attention whores with no self control at all. I was thrilled. Although I rarely have a difficult time doing this soberly, it’s much easier to make fun of people when they’re wasted, because they make it so easy for you. They might as well have “I’m a drunk bitch, listen to me say really stupid and embarrassing shit so you can think less of me tomorrow” written on their foreheads.
This started with Bailey, who is soberly already slow and who I’ve questioned to be mildly retarded. She somehow gets drunk off of Andre, a cheap champaign that shouldn’t count as an alcoholic beverage based on its alcohol to sugar ratio. But, after one bottle that night, she became obnoxiously loud and threw her arms around me, telling me how much she loves me. “Oh my God, I am SOOOOO drunk! Hahahah! Lila, you aren’t drunk at all- get on my level, girl! Another Adre bottle killed by Bailey! Hahahah!”
Little did she know that I was eight shots deep and going strong. My friends often tell me I’m very composed when drunk, which is a major compliment, but also very surprising. If I’m so composed when drunk, I ask myself when I wake up the next morning sharing a sleeping bag with a stranger on a grungy floor of some frat house, then who’s the judge of composure? I certainly hope it’s Amy Winehouse or Linsday Lohan, but I have a strong feeling that’s not accurate.
Next, there was Heather, who had decided to conveniently lay down in the middle of the kitchen floor and cry. “GUUYYSSS! THE ROOM IS SPINNING!”, she wailed. I asked our friend Raina how many shots she’d had. “Two and a half,” she told me, “but she had a light dinner.”
These people were pathetic. I decided to go upstairs where my friend Cameron was hiding in his room working on his computer programming. “Stop being a nerd,” I harassed him. “Come downstairs.”
“No. It’s too loud. Go down and make sure nothing is broken, okay? I really need to finish this animated character I’ve been working on.”
“I can’t believe I call you people my friends,” I said before slamming the door and heading back downstairs.
Things were becoming very unnecessary very fast. Raina and I were so bored that we decided to take everything from each bathroom on both floors and switch them as a prank. There are few times that I feel motivated to do things like this. All of these times, excluding this one, took place when I was under the age of seven.
After this, my friend Ria and I kept exchanging looks of disgust while watching everyone’s intoxication levels increase, while simultaneously doing Pepperment Patties to keep our own drunkenness at the level we wanted. There are very few people in the UO Jewish community that I have 100% tolerance for, and Ria makes the cut every time. She’s just my favorite. One of the great things about Ria is that regardless of how whore-like, mean or drunk I become, she’s always by my side. And I do the same for her. This is a real friend. The rest of you are quitters.
Cameron had made his way downstairs after his realization that he should probably participate in his own party, but then left his house all together when Heather had belligerently tried to hold his hand and kiss him. Ria and I found much entertainment in this, because it proved once again that Jews are awkward. This night went on for several more hours until many people were throwing up, which naturally is my cue to take pictures and then leave.
Although this story is less eventful than most, there is still a moral to it. Never feel sorry for yourself or take life too seriously. I promise, promise promise you, there are always others that will always take the cake before you do. In the mean time, have fun. As Snooki once said, “Get it all out, freaking do everything that you can, have sex with an old man and steal a plant and get arrested and then do whatever.” So laugh at your friends, and more importantly, laugh at yourself. This is what college is for!