beer bottle bash!

If you were to ask me about my Saturday night, you would be asking for more than you bargained for.

Nate picked me up after the first day of my Navajo weaving workshop. We went to his apartment, where I vegged out for a couple of hours, watching the second season of the 4400. I like weird sci-fi shows, ok?

Then his friend Nick came over, and we started having drinks. Nate's roommate and his girlfriend came back from their anniversary dinner, and they all began a game of Asshole. I was occupied trying to drunkenly win a Madden 2006 game. Or is it 2007? I really don't care.

I gave up on the game because I hate being excluded (as Nate will attest to). All I remember is that I was President, and I was Asshole. And I was drunk. Here are a couple of pictures to illustrate that:



I was also extremely annoying, another fact that Nate can assure you of. I was loud, I pinched, and I threw my gum in his beer. Multiple times. I was not the most fun person to be around, especially if you were dating me.

By this time I have three beers in front of me: two warm Old Styles, one unopened, and an cold open Capital Amber. I had also had a strong vodka cranberry and half a bottle of champagne. Did I mention that I am a 5'3" tall? And like any normal college student I have put on weight since I graduated from high school?

A fun game that Nate likes to play when he's drunk is the "let's make fun of Cate for being chubby" game. He never says it when he's sober, but he knows it will piss me off if he says it when he's drunk. I also know that he's doing it to piss me off, which doesn't really help things because I'm ultra sensitive about the weight I've put on. If you're thinking this is in any way a bad thing, let me remind you that I put ABC gum in his beer. Multiple times.

So when I heard him say, "Whatever, chubs," I got pissed. I poured my Capital Amber on his lap. This was the first poor descision of the night. I should have poured the Old Style on him. I also made the mistake of pouring it on him when he had his own beer bottle in his hand. What resulted was strong contact between said bottle and my nose.

It didn't break. That doesn't mean it didn't hurt like hell. I freaked out, ran into his bedroom and locked the door. Meanwhile, everyone else had to clean up and then left. Whoops. I called my friend Lisa and my friend Kennille. Neither could give me a ride, and Kennille suggested that I call 911. So I did, telling them I had fallen down the stairs. Then I got my shit together and walked out.

AN AMBULANCE CAME TO PICK ME UP. I was not expecting that. I got to be strapped into a gurney or whatever the fuck it is, and driven to St. Mary's hospital. Where I promptly told all there that if I didn't pee RIGHT NOW, they were going to have to deal with a potentially broken nose and wet pants. Actually, I said, "Not going to lie, but I might pee my pants if I don't go RIGHT NOW." So I walked across the hall and all was well.

They checked my vitals, and I told them what happened. They asked multiple times if I wanted to press charges, which I said no to. I had no idea what happened, and I was still drunk. (I went pee like five more times in the two hours I was there.) I told them I wanted to sober up before I did anything.

I was left alone for a long time, and thank God they had a TV in there, otherwise I would have gotten into trouble. I spent about 45 minutes on the phone, calling Kennille and my friend Kat, who has broken her nose. They both cheered me up, and made me feel better about the whole situation.

I also called Nate, who had sent me a text saying, "We are done." Yikes. But he was worried, and he went to his parent's house because he didn't want be at his apartment. I talked to him a couple times, and he was pissed (because I had been so obnoxious) but he also felt bad for what he had done.

I had a lot of time to amuse myself while in the ER. I spent a good 30 minutes taking pictures of myself, including this one:


I also found out something hilarious:



I spent some time drawing on the dry erase board, watching Runaway Bride on TV and unplugging cords to the monitors. I have drunk ADD sooo bad, you wouldn't believe. When I'm drunk I can't really sleep, and I get giggly and chatty.

Then Nate called to say that he and his dad were going to come pick me up at the hospital. Nice. I had to wait for the nurses to come check me out, cause apparently they had other "emergencies" to deal with, more important then my slightly damaged nose. We finally got out of there, and Nate's dad dropped me off at my parent's house. Nate didn't really speak to me the entire night, cause I guess he was still pissed. Whatever.

I passed out on my parent's couch and slept. When I woke up, I had a sweet gash on my nose, and a headache that felt like little gnomes were smashing my sinuses with Swarovski crystal hammers. Don't ask.

That's way too much excitement for one entry, so I'll cut it short. I'm going to bed.