Puke and Rally

It's been months since my last post.  My life has been in disoray since the middle of January.  I'm back in school full time, and still averaging about 30 hours of work a week.  Needless to say, when I have free time, I want to do something that involves alcohol, and lots of it.  I promise I'm not complaining.  I know we all have busy schedules, but shit.

So, to catch everyone up...here's what I've been up to in a nutshell...

February: sleep, school, work, gym, eat, drink...woah, slow down, Danielle.

March: Things start looking up this month. SPRING BREAK!  I went on the best vacation I've ever been on in my life, no exaggeration.  Two of my friends and I went to visit other friends of ours in San Diego.  One goes to SDSU,(go aztecs!) and the other just moved there from San Fransisco and is interning at a PR firm.  We stayed with my friend that's in school, since the other friends work schedule is a little demanding. Even though I slept on a love seat with no pillow all week(did I mention my friend was a dude),and spent more money than I'd like to talk about, I couldn't have asked for a better time.  Let me explain why...

Side note: Someone wishes to remain nameless.  I shall call him, Mr. Magnificent.



you're telling me I can't get a drink before 7am?



Day 1:  We leave Mr. Magnificent's house around 2:30am to catch our 5:30am flight.  I'm exhausted and annoyed, but the thought of inhaling Ketel One in just a short few hours lifts my spirits.  Mr. Magnificent immediately gets pissed that there are no bars in the airport open yet.  We settle for coffee and juice...for now. We get on the plane, and I of course get stuck by the window seat next to the emergency exit.  I'm the last person that you'd want saving your life if your plane was going down.  The flight attendant asks if I'd like to move.  I stay for the extra leg room.  There's a couple sitting next to me that won't stop taking pictures of each other.  Perfect.  Luckily they fall asleep as soon as the plane gets in the air.  A few hours later we are in the Houston airport. Halfway there!  We have an hour before our connecting flight takes off, so naturally we head for the bar.  Zac and I get Kettle One and OJ. Nothing like a screwdriver at 9am.  After 2 rounds our bartender asks us what time our flight takes off, so I look at my watch.  Our plane is boarding. Window seat again.  I don't give a shit because there's alcohol in my blood stream and our next stop is sunny San Diego!  As we are landing I open the window shade to the most glorious city I've ever seen.  There are actual tears in my eyes.  I tell myself, Danielle, you are going to live here someday; someday very soon.  When we land, Eli is in class.  We decide to take a cab to a bar in Mission Valley, near his apartment.  After having to use the GPS on my iPhone to tell the cab driver where to go, and approximately 3 near death experiences later, we get to McGregor's. It's around 11am, so there aren't many people there.  With our luggage in hand we take a table outside in the beautiful 70 something degree weather.  2 pitchers and a few orders of fish tacos later, Eli shows up to take us back to his apartment, but not before a beer run. 

After stocking up on a few necessities at the 7eleven we make another quick stop at a car dealership so Eli can get a mechanics signature on something that is completely slipping my mind right now.  Zac gets out to go pee, leaving just me and Mr. Magnificent in the car, we both think it'd be a good idea to continue drinking.  We chug a natty.(gross)  A few minutes later we head to Eli's apartment. 

Clearly, boys live here.  The first thing he does is apologize for the stench coming from the kitchen area; hilarious.  We put our bathing suits and walk to the pool and hot tub in his apartment complex.  We are surrounded by palm trees and blue skies.  This is my heaven.  I am high on life.  The Natural Light even starts to taste good.  At this point we're all a little inebriated, but Mr. Magnificent is by far the drunkest. Everyone starts making bets that he won't make it through the night.  I have 10 bucks on it.  I decide Mr. Magnificent will be the MVP of this trip. 

When we get done relaxing by the pool I tell them I'm going for a run, they all think I'm crazy, except for Mr. Magnificent,  he decides he's coming with me...despite my concerns that he won't be able to keep up.  I tell him I will leave behind a fallen soldier.  He has no problems with this, so we put on our music and roll out. As we run around Qualcomm Stadium, I'm in a state of euphoria.  We run about 3 and a half miles, all the while fist pumping and giving high fives of encouragement.  This is the best run I will ever go on.

Eli's roommate Joey has a girlfriend who lives in PB, so we decide to go to her place for some pregamming, before we go to the bars, because apparently we hadn't done enough of that already.  We play some card games, listen to music and drink Bud Light. (Side note: Tessa is awesome) The last beer in the case is saved for Mr. Magnificent.  He chugs it.  Big mistake.  We all start heading outside to make the walk toward Typhoon's in downtown Pacific Beach, when all the sudden Mr. Magnificent starts puking everywhere.  To really appreciate this scene you would have to see how the yards are set up in this residential area.  Try to picture two parallel rows of houses, no more than 10 feet apart, with a sidewalk seperating them and each one has a little yard with fences.  Mr. Magnificent is flailing back and forth spewing vomit over every lawn like a yard sprinkler system.  At this point, Zac, Eli and I are the only ones outside and we are all looking at each other in astonishment.  The last yard he stops at gets some serious work done on it, and when he finally stops we see him look up and in the most pitiful voice wisper... "sorry."  I am mortified.  Zac looks at Mr. Magnificent walking towards us and says, "Dude, was there someone out there?"  I hunch down, hoping not to be seen. Mr. Magnificent  smiles and tells us, "Yeah, but he said not to worry about it, we've all been there."  We just dodged a bullet, no, more like a fucking grenade.  Mr. Magnificent feels better than ever, and mutters "Puke, and Rally."  Mr. Magnificent...MVP.

We stop at the Tap Room, a microbrewery, and get a round.  Mr. Magnificent gets a frigging stoudt, which has the highest alcohol content on the menu,  I can't believe this kid.  Zac and I grab a beer they call 'horney devil' that was highly recommended by our waitress.  We talk about how ridiculous tonights events have been and mock Mr. Magnificent's vomiting episode. We are not even through our first day and we already have a great puke story. 

Typhoons is great.  Eli says it looks tame tonight, clearly he hasn't been to Lancaster for a while.  Zac and Eli are dancing on a platform above the dance floor with 2 girls while Mr. Magnificent and I watch some drunk sluts show off their lack of pole dancing skills.  I'm captivated by their lack of respect for themselves and wonder if they will regret doing this is the morning.  Eli introduces us to 2 of his friends, Jake and Alex.  Jake is one of the funniest mother fuckers I've ever met, and Alex is a cute little German who I'd love to carry around in my pocket, just so I could take him out every now and then and listen to his accent.  I get caught up talking and dancing with Alex to Blink 182 'say it ain't so', and don't realize Mr. Magnificent is missing until I get a text from him that says "I'm outside."  Fantastic.  I round up the other 2, and we leave to find Mr. Magnificent.  He's no where to be seen and all of us are too drunk to figure out a game plan so we just start yelling his name.  Alex, the sobberest of us spots him across the street and goes over to escort him back towards where we are.  We get a cab, and that's the last thing I remember.  From what Eli tells me, we all fell asleep in the back while he talked to the cab driver about his family in some other country.  Don't judge me, we were up for over 24 hours.  Rockstars...

Day 2:  I wake up and stumble to the bathroom.  This is one of the first times I've woken up and am sure that I'm still drunk. I hear Kevin and Eli in the bedroom rustling around. I begin to question Mr. Magnificent's sexuality when I hear Eli say "Dude, stop looking me in the eyes."  My hair looks like I just had sex with a gorilla, if that makes sense; it's the first thing that came to mind.  After I assess my looks, I decide I don't give a shit how ugly I am and walk out onto the porch. The sun beats down on my ghostly pale arms.  Perfect beach weather. We pack up our things and drive to Coronado.



self explanitory



When we get to the beach we throw football, get our feet in the water, walk around the Hotel Del, and tan; except for Zac, who is a ginger, and burns.  Eli's ex-girlfriend is also in San Diego visiting some friends so we meet up with them.  I also let my friend Allison know we are here and she tells me her and her boyfriend will be over soon.  I can't believe I'm here.  Even being hungover here feels better than a good, healthy day in PA.  Some highlights from the day here so far include...

1. A pidgeon stealing my entire bad of pistachios, while Allison and I chase it.

2. One of Arianna's friends reuniting with her boyfriend after 3 weeks.  It seriously looks like they are reanacting scenes from The Notebook.  Vom.  They could not make anyone feel more awkward. I really would rather you not make out for 25 minutes in front of me. Spare my gag reflex, por favor.

3. The best and only shrimp enchiladas I've ever ingested.

4. Cold drinking water.

5. Seeing Allison for the first time since December....Awww, I have a heart.

While on the beach we make plans to go to the SDSU basketball game that night.  They are playing Colorado State.  I'm pumped.

We go home, grab showers, and head to Viejas Arena on the trolly.  Reppin' some serious SDSU gear, compliments of Eli.  The game is awesome.  The school spirit is inspiring and I'm now in love with DJ Gay.  Eli flags us down during the last minute of the game and tells us to follow him.  At first I don't understand what were doing, but a light bulb goes on when we start heading down toward the court.  After time runs out and SDSU comes out with the W, we rush the court!  Zac is in front of me and bites it hard.  Not only does he look like a complete ass, just by falling, but he also loses his shoe.  His struggle to get up practically makes me topple over in hysterics.  We jump around in the crowd of people like we belong.  I'm an SDSU men's basketball fan for life.  If I had a bucket list, I would cross this off of it.

To celebrate the win, we go to Effin's.  It's apparently a big SDSU hangout, and everyone is going there.  We pile in to Jake's big ass Caddy and uncomfortably make our way over.  We get in and start pounding drinks one after another.  There is a girl in the middle of the "dance floor" in a romper attempting to have a dance battle with the guy standing beside her. I say attempting because her moves look like some sort of seizing walk. Unless you are retarded and have no legs, you can dance better than her.  We all find this amusing and continue to watch her make an ass of herself.  Eli's friends make me laugh...a lot.  I meet another one named Ed.  Ed is one of those guys that you know just by looking at him that he drinks heavily, and on the reg. You know he will always have a good story to tell about the morning after, and when you talk to him you just wait for the "speaking of alligators and crack addicted whores...this one time..."  That's Ed. 

Mr. Magnificent is again the drunkest at the bar, Eli is a close second,  I know this because I watch him standing outside the photo booth in the bar waiting to pop his head in on a group of girls getting their pictures taken.  Mr. Magnificent and Ed are stealing Jello shots off of the cocktail waitresses tray after she leaves them in charge of gaurding it for a minute.  There may have been about 5 out of 20 left after they had their way with it.  Again, we dodge a bullet.  This chick is cool.

Everyone disappears in the crowd leaving me, Zac and Alex talking. When we realize they are gone we go on a man hunt for them.  Alex thinks they are in the outside part of the bar.  We get outside and they are no where to be found.  When we turn to go back inside there is a huge line leading up to the door.  They are only letting people in when people come out.  Were fucked.  There are at least 80 people in this line.  Alex is not worried and tells us in his German accent, "Just follow me we will cut in line, people here are too high to notice what we're doing, and if they do you just say, it's cool bra!"  He knows west coast.  We cut in line about 6 people back.  Eli and the rest of our crew come outside looking for us.  They cut in line too, still, no one says anything.  Just when we get to the front, the basketball team starts heading in.  Celebrity VIP status, they head right in, entourage in tow.  I worship these guys.  They pour shots behind the bar. Brian Cardwell shakes my hand.  Malcolm Thomas and Billy White are standing up on the booth seats,  we all watch as Mr. Magnificent/MVP sneaks up behind them trying to fit in amongst them. (picture below)  Seeing this alone could have made my trip.  He also grabs Mehdi and tells him he can't wait to see him in the NBA.  When someone asks if he'd like a picture taken with him he says, "I got this" and one arms a photo with him like they were BFFs. Priceless.  Eli tells us we should probably go because Ed is driving us home and he's waiting in the car.  News to me and the rest of us.  I have no idea how long he's been waiting but realize it has been quite a while since I saw him last.  We end the night with a lesson in drunk driving.  I also witness my first no hands over a speed bump.  Thank you, Ed.



this guy...

To be Continued...

the inability to change or achieve something

The countdown begins. 5 days until I start my first day of my last year of school.  I thought I'd never get here, and now that I'm so close, it feels like time just flew by.  I remember sitting in Mrs. Harris's 6th grade classroom wondering what college will be like.  It seemed so mysterious to me then, so confusing.  How do you know which one you will go to?  What kind of classes do you take? What's a major?  I told myself to think back to that moment when I had it figured out. I went to West Chester University.  I took a bunch of bullshit classes, and a major is in one way or another a career path; and although I may know what a major is, I still don't know what I'm doing with it.  So, one important question remains;  What are you going to do when your done with school? It's the age old question that has it's way of working itself into every conversation, and I have no response.  My Aunt Diana told me that I should think of my interests when trying to come up with a career choice.  First thing that came to mind; beer. Ok, so I could drink beer 5 days a week for 8 hours?  Sounds like my livers not going to like me very much.  Maybe sell beer?  Boring, and requires no education.  Make beer?  Hell no. On to the next one. I enjoy writing, and kids, maybe I could write a childrens book? Eh, I'd rather do that as a side job, or a hobby even.  I love music, I could critque that.  Maybe manage a band?  Work for a record company?  Bleh! My mind is seriously about to explode.  It's too frustrating to even think of the possibilities.  The list seems infinite. The only things I know for sure are I do not want to stay here, and I'm still not ready for the real world.  I'm done with this post, I'm going to go scream in a pillow.





                "Back to school, back to school, to prove to Dad that I'm not a fool."-Billy Madison

judgement day

Have you ever walked in a room and felt like everyone was talking about you just before you got there?  That's how I feel every time I walk into a Catholic Church.  I get a sense that the entire congregation has a 'holier than thou' attitude towards me.  Their eyes pierce through me as if to strip me down and reveal my sins.  Some people may say I have these negative feelings towards the church because I have my own guilt about not being an avid pursuer of God, some may say I should feel guilty walking into a Catholic church unbaptised and unconfirmed, and some may say screw the church.  Whatever the opinion, it doesn't help the stress that overcomes me while sitting in a pew.

The reason I put myself through this every so often is because my boyfriend, or my boyfriends family rather, are devout Catholics.  When I go to visit him on a Sunday, it's mandatory that we go to church.  Well, my boyfriend says it's not mandatory, but I'd look like a piece of shit if I was sitting at his house alone watching Sunday morning cartoons in my PJ's while the rest of the family was out praying.  So, to make him and his family happy, which I have no problem doing, I drag myself out of bed to be gawked at.

This past Sunday in particular was hellish, pun intended.  My boyfriend and I went to the 11:15 service(his parents went to the earlier one.)  I followed him through the stained glass doors like a lost puppy.  He dipped his fingers in the holy water and crossed himself as we entered the church .  I stood there and watched.  We walked to the nearest pew where he knelt down and crossed himself again.  I stood there and watched, again.  At this point I'm usually getting murderous stares.

The service began, and for the first time since I've gone to his church the priest came through each aisle and doused the congregation in holy water with some kind of silver spoon, I later found out this was because it was the day Christ was baptised.  Of course I was at the end of the pew, where the water was clearly hitting the hardest.  When he got to where I was I think he could see the fear in my eyes.  He re-dipped the "spoon" wound up his arm and threw the water at me like he was friggin' Cliff Lee.  The shower hit me like a ton of bricks and two thoughts instantly popped into my mind, one being the Incubus concert I'd gone to a few years ago where they hosed us down because of the extreme heat, and two that I was going to melt.  The unfortunate thing is, this wasn't the worst of it.  I had to sit through endless hymms sung by possible 'American Idol' rejects, a sermon about birth control, and communion, which doesn't seem so bad until you see the rest of the church standing in line to get the body and blood of christ while I'm still sitting down.

I don't want anyone to get the impression that I despise the Catholic Church and it's teachings.  I just feel that nobody has the right to judge me but God himself.  So, instead of ostrasizing me from the religion they should be willing to show me why I want to be a part of it.

Fun Fact: my name means "judged by God"