This Valentine's Day sucked. It almost always sucks, whether I'm with someone at the time or not, but this one really sucked. I spent the night alone and newly single while the girl I couldn't get out of my mind was off having lots of sex with some random guy she'd probably never even met before that night- at least in my head that was what was happening. So when my friend called me to let me know that he'd be dragging me to a post-Valentine's Day singles party the following Saturday, I was quite excited at the possibility of drinking my woes away with fellow Valentine's Day losers.

Arriving at said party on Saturday night with my mini-entourage, the first thing my eyes were drawn to was the water cooler that everyone seemed to be standing around whilst chatting. But no, this wasn't a standard office water cooler like the one you and your coworkers use to facilitate meaningless small talk about last night's episode of the George Lopez show, this sucker was 100% Vodka. And it was full. Needless to say, in a short amount of time there were a lot of very drunk individuals at that party. Myself included. Early on in the evening I was so drunk I managed to knock down a table with about 5 drinks and a big bowl of M&Ms going everywhere. Yeh, that kind of drunk.

After a few hours of drunken debauchery, my friends collected me and dragged me to the local all night greasy spoon. It was one of those places where you order breakfast at 3am cause it just sounds that good. Me? I didn't even bother contemplating my order. The friend sitting next to me ordered something and I just looked at the waiter and said "I'll have exactly that." I was in no shape to contemplate the finer points of Chicken Fried Steak and Eggs v. Eggs Florentine. I even drank coffee cause that’s what my friend ordered. I never drink coffee. I probably shouldn't have started that night.

Having ordered, the table settled into some rousing conversation about God knows what and I settled into literally moaning about how much drunken pain I was in. The pain intensified as I realized that my apartment was literally only a 2 minute drive away. Apparently I wondered this outloud unbeknownst to me as a friend turned and said "Do you want me to just take you home?" "YES." I exclaimed as I took out all the money left in my wallet and threw it down on the table to cover the meal that I had ordered. Two minutes later, I was dropped off at the gate in front of my apartment.

I managed to find my way up to my apartment and realized that I need to just sleep. Like, now. I stripped off all of my clothes, fell into my bed and waited for sweet sweet sleep to take my drunken woes away. A minute later, I realized that I needed to vomit. The thing about being as drunk as I was is that your brain is usually a good 30 seconds behind your body. I may have thought I had time to get up and into the bathroom, but my body had a different idea. I got about 2 feet from my bed before I exploded like that girl in the Exorcist. I'm pretty sure my head spun like her and everything. A minute later my bedroom floor was covered in puke. Then I realized I still had more to give to the world. "I had better run this time" I thought to myself. That wasn't a good idea. Instantly I slipped on my fresh pool of vomit and fell face first into said pool of vomit. Naked. I don't remember anything after that.

The next morning I woke up in my bed and my first thought was "Oh man, this is gonna be messy". Amazingly, my floor was clean, I was clean, my bathroom- which I'm sure I eventually made it to only to lose more contents of my stomach- was clean. Somehow after finding myself lying naked in a puddle of my own sick, I managed to clean everything up and make my way back to bed.

I am an AWESOME drunk.