And The Beat Goes On...

Here’s to another day…and another hangover. I think my body has a malfunction, amongst other things, and liquor/beer/anything and I just aren’t friends. You think I’d stop right? Yeah, I’d think so too.

So I said that I would update the last couple weeks in a single swoop, and I will because they are all pretty much drunken stories of Lisa and I going out and causing trouble. Now where did I leave off? Oh yes…coming back from O-town.


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I came back to Miami on Friday and worked like a dog the whole weekend. Thank goodness I didn’t have to close because the other bitchy manager (yes…there is another one besides me) chose to close the restaurant. I didn’t go out that weekend (what a shocker) because my mom and my sister and Thomas were coming down to the MIA on Sunday to sweeten up my humble abode. My mom bought a lot of really cute stuff and it was swell of them to come down. She bought me a new (flat screen) TV…bring on the house parties for football games, as well as a bunch of shelves and little cute house stuff. The next day Monday I decided to go to the Tavern with some girls from work….

….yeah. It ended up being something like 11 of us. We were loud, crazy, drunk, obnoxious, havoc causing women…so everyone assumed it was a bachelorette party. (no thanks…not after my weekend in Orlando). We had wayyyy too many pitchers of beer and something like 6 Jager Bombs (oy!)..and guess who happens to cross paths with me yet again? Yeah…that Guido guy who kept trying to kick it to me a couple weeks ago. Yeah, it was gross. He was all sore and heart-ripped outish so he tried to hook me up with his nephews. Yeah…not a gene pool I want to dip into thanks. Especially not after I found out his nephews were 14 and 16. Jail anyone? No thanks, I’ve been.

I decide to go home (way after I should have) and fell into a drunken coma until the next day when I had to work. I get to work and my GM calls me into the office all mad. What did I do now? I know he hates when I hang out with “the staff” but honestly, I’m 22 years old…and there isn’t a DAMN thing that you can do to stop me, so blow me. Turns out the “best man” sent me flowers at work (ugh). They were really big and really pretty and there were a lot of them. The card read something cheesy like “Happy Belated Birthday. I miss you. You’re beautiful, smart, witty and charming. Can’t wait to come down and see you”. Nice gesture…but no. I was SHOCKED and taken aback. WHY?! Did you not get the hint when I was a royal cunt to you while I was at your house?? It doesn’t get any better when I’m 210 miles away either. Actually…it may get worse.


So whatever. I go home that night and sit on my couch and watch movies and feel sorry for myself that I blew a really nice guy off…but it just wouldn’t work (refer to previous entry for specific reasons why). I woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed for a trip to the WPB as a normal Thursday occurrence these days. Since I’m always off on Thursday and so is Lisa…we all meet up, have dinner, get some coffee, and then I come home. It may sound lame and drab but Lisa always drives her ass here during the weekends, and I’d like to see her more than once a week while we’re both not shit-faced.

That weekend (Saturday as it turns out) Thomas and Esteban drove down to MIA with Lisa for some drinks at ye olde Tavern. We were all LIT like a 4th of July firework (this is where my foreshadowing comes in). Ends up that Lisa and I meet these RANDOM ass guys there, Chris and Eliu. The guys end up paying our tab (score) and buy us more drinks all night (score) and buy Esteban and Thomas drinks as well (score). Lisa and this kid Eliu end up making out at the bar (score??) while I’m my own drunken rainbow. That Chris kid was ALL over my jock…but I was drunk. And we all know what happens to Emily when she gets drunk…..don’t we?

My panties become my chastity belt. Oh yes. Believe it or not…I don’t go home with people when I’m hammered (which makes it even worse that I do it when I’m sober..hahah). So this kid Chris wasn’t getting ANYTHING from me….except dirty looks. We all go about our merry way. Sunday is NOT a good day. Lisa and I were both hungover FILTHY style and so was Thomas. My blonde beauty’s daddy (aka my future husband) left for Finland, so we all made plans to have a 4th of July party at Lisa’s. The restaurant was closed that day (whoohoo) so I dragged my happy ass up to WPB to hang with the gang. We went shopping, bought a grill, and trollied it over to Lisa’s. I started making mojitos (I am…the best. ) and we were all drinking by 2pm. What time are the fireworks? Yeah…when the sun goes down. When does the sun go down? Yeah…after 8:30. We were all in a FINE condition by then…and by fine I mean throughout the afternoon we managed to:

(*) set a patio table on fire
(*) have Thomas do the robot (fully clothed)
(*) have Thomas wear a pair of breakaway shorts (with nothing underneath)
(*) have Thomas wear Lisa’s leopard print boxer shorts and dance to Billy Idol’s “Dancing with Myself”…which included a slow grind, a cowboy lasso dance move, and lots of pelvic thrusting.


We went out side to watch the boys play football in the good tradition, and then made our way over to the beach to set up shop and wait for the fireworks show. The beach was the funniest part of the whole ordeal. Why might you ask? Well I’m glad you DID ask….


We set up our blanket and our beers (and Steve’s MD 20/20 because apparently he’s black and we live in the hood)…and play with sparklers and shit. This family of like 15 people set up about 20 feet away from us and this guy who we later found out was named “Frank” said they spent over 1500 dollars on fireworks. WOW. We had PRIME real estate. We waited for the sun to set (while watching Thomas get attacked by a dog while fucking around with sparklers singing “Mr. Roboto”).

The sun was slowly setting…and so was the beer in Lisa and I’s bladder. There aren’t any bathrooms on Juno so we got the bright idea to piss in the mangrove path that led to the street. Now, you have to remember 2 things…

#1...its still day light outside
#2...there are boat loads of people starting to arrive at the beach

Did that stop us? No. PeePee mission #1 was completed with no problem.

We settle back down and start talking shit again….and the peepee routine happens again. This time…we bring Thomas to keep watch (it’s still day light outside). He’s pissing while Lisa and I are pissing (and all I’m thinking is “oh dear God please don’t let me pee on myself or have her pee scoot downstream and get my foot all wet). As I’m thinking this…people start coming up the path. A little scare, but no real danger considering we were all done and putting our pants on. Funny funny.

The sun has officially set and the fireworks have commenced. All night I’m making disgusting sexual innuendos to that guy Frank and he’s loving every minute of it. Towards the end of the show, Lisa and I need to pee AGAIN…and this time, it wasn’t so smooth. We’re poppin’ a squat (its dark) and all of a sudden I’m MID STREAM and I see people with flashlights coming up the path. It scared the CRAP out of me. I was mortified and all I could do was just stand up and pull my pants back up (while I was still urinating mind you). Oh lord. I pissed myself!! You have GOT to be kidding me. It was…H-I-L-A-R-I-O-U-S. oh man. I haven’t pissed on myself since….well, I was a baby probably. That got a laugh out of everyone who was within a 30 foot radius of us…because I wasn’t being coy or quiet.

I go back to Miami that night and pass out while looking forward to my day off the next day.

Thursday was a spunky day. Lisa came down and we met up with Chris and Eliu at the Tavern for Dike Night (aka…Ladies Night). That’s when all the lesbians come out. We get hammered, Chris gets mad because all these guys are talking to me in the bar (ugh…news flash CHICO, you aren’t my BF so back up off this shit), go out to the strip club (BT’s) and then I come home. The hangover the next day wasn’t TOO bad, and we had an OK time with “the randoms” that night. Work the next day…and a weird phone call received (ended up being Chris…hmm).

Saturday night was more of the same. Thomas and Steve came down with Lisa and we met up with Eliu and Chris at the tavern. Rafael had called me and asked if I was going out (and he knew the obvious answer AND where I would be )…so he ended up meeting us there with his friend Ralf from California and his girlfriend Joanna (who drinks Smirnoff Ice…no comment). We all end up getting SHIT FACED and Steve passes out INSIDE the bar at one of the booths we were sitting at. We were all up and talking and playing pool and fucking with the Jukebox…and Steve was asleep (I bet it was just a ploy so he didn’t have to spend anymore money). We were all causing a big ol raucous and I was text messaging Steve’s friend Luke that I was talking to. I take my phone out of my bag, flip it open to read what he had sent me (he had been drinking too…so it was funny) and Chris gets all possessive.

Chris: Ey! Who da fuck is dat?
Emily: Don’t worry about it
Chris: Fuckin’ women bro.
Emily: Whatever dude
Chris: Im serious bro. Who the fuck u talkin’ to?
Emily: What the fuck do you care man?
Chris: Is that your fuckin’ booty call?
Emily: [clearly it isn’t but I said] Maybe
Chris: [grabs Emily’s head and proceeds to suck on her neck]
Emily: WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?!?!
Chris: I’d like to see you get laid now…
Emily: [looks over at lisa] I have a hickey now don’t I?
Lisa: Wow. That thing is HUGE.
Emily: Thanks dickwad
Chris: That’s my shit. Noone’s allowed to touch you

And so on and so forth. Fucking Pisces. So I had the most NAUSEATING hickey on my neck for the next 3 fucking days. It was HUGE and all purple and black and it actually HURT. After we were all liquored up we ended up going to Bare Nasties (I mean, Bare Necessities) which is probably the most hideous and disgusting strip club in the whole world….however they are open until 6am, so beggars can’t be choosers.

We ended up drinking more…bad idea..while watching the most disgusting women in all of Miami shake their asses on a stage for NO money. I didn’t wanna watch the freak show anymore so I go back to the table that we were sitting at. Hmm..no open chairs. Steve and Chris are sitting down…Steve’s lap or Chris’s? Yeah…I went with Chris too. Sat on his lap and started talking shit. Next thing you know, he takes his bottle of beer, pulls the back of my jeans down and proceeds to dump the whole thing DOWN MY FUCKING PANTS. Wow. If it wasn’t for the fizz of the beer I would have been PISSED. I was furious, but got over it relatively quickly when I saw some chick onstage wearing THE SAME panties that I was wearing. Dear heavens…at that point I had something to prove (and I was right) that I looked better in my white lace boy shorts than she did.

After that…we all headed the drunk caravan over to Denny’s to sober up. Went home and CRASHED. Woke up with a nasty nasty nasty biting hangover that was with me the WHOLE fucking day.

Monday I went to work and was fucking around online. Talked to the “ex” for about 2 ½ mins. He actually messaged me. It was the most awkward and forced conversation EVER, and that made me a little sad. I never thought the day would come when the “ex” and I wouldn’t be able to have a conversation. Like a REAL conversation. And I know I’m a big loser and a big dork when I say this…but I think about when I have to take all my Sports Administration classes or when I do a crossword puzzle, and I can’t call him for his help. He always told me that he would help me with whatever I needed…but I don’t know if that offer is still valid or not.

He is…hands down…the most knowledgeable person I know when it comes to sports. We used to tease him when we all played Trivial Pursuit because he always got the “orange” questions right…except when it was something queer like a bob-sledding question or something. Anyway, it was a weird ending to the night. He asked me about the cats at least, so maybe sometime this week I’ll send him pictures to show him how big they’ve gotten. (I love those little fuckers).

I had lunch with my dad at Don Pan on Wednesday because he was at Baptist Hospital in Kendall. We talked some shit and caught up and it was really nice to see him just one on one. My dad and I like to bullshit because we have the same mentality. We left and I went home to get ready for work. Thursday was the French Independence Day (whoohoo!!) so I decided to scoot on over to WPB for the celebration. Rafael had been asking me to take him there since I first met him and he was dating Leslie, so I took him for a little road trip. It was nice. He told me that it was about time that I took him to WPB and he got to hang out with Lisa and Caroline and Thomas.

We all had dinner and some drinks and then went over to Starbucks for a little pick me up. We showed him around City Place and then all Haitian packed Thomas’s new car to show Rafael Palm Beach Island and all the gorgeous houses none of us will ever be able to afford (except maybe me…but you know, I’ll have to work my ass off for that shit). It was a hilarious little adventure and good times and great conversation. We saw Jasmine while we were at City Place and things were a little strange, I must admit. She was shocked to see Rafael there (she didn’t recognize him at first)…however I knew once we saw Jasmine, the rumor mill would start…and it did.

Ralf and I came back to Miami and I dropped him off at the pool hall and went home to bed. It was a nice, relaxing night amongst friends and its nice to be able to have that.

Saturday night, however, wasn’t so relaxing. I get another phone call from the Ralf and ask what we’re doing. Well, we all had plans to go to Hooligans, so I tell him that Lisa will pick him up on her way down to MIA. They did some pre-drinking at Thomas’s (while I was at work ) and left the house at a decent hour to meet me at the bar….until Dumbass (Thomas) realizes he left his wallet at home (dope!). What a DORK. They had to turn around after being in Ft. Lauderdale. They were again making decent time because I was still at work, when they encountered traffic on I-95 and something about the exit where they needed to be was closed. Oh lord. They got off the highway and onto the Palmetto.

Next thing I know Lisa is lost somewhere in Hialeah and I ended up going to pick up Ralf. We didn’t get to Hooligans until 1am and kerry and other people from work were there waiting for us. We were all stressed out and in a bad mood, so the drinks flowed nicely. Did I mention that Eliu and Chris were there? Well…they were.

I don’t know WHAT happened, and I still can’t really recall, but apparently I was a big drunken train wreck…and I hate that shit. I’m NEVER the train wreck, so I was super embarrassed the next morning when I didn’t realize what the hell could have happened. Thank goodness Lisa drove me home, otherwise I would have killed myself. Oh man. That night was AWFUL. I was yelling “I NEED TO GET LAID” while doing god knows what…I was apparently talking to some guy by the pool tables and Chris got mad and peaced out…and Lisa and Eliu were making out all night while Steve and Kerry (yes…STEVE) were sucking face as well. Wow. STEVE!?!?!?! This is VERY disconcerting.

I wasn’t that bad on Sunday when I woke up and went to work wondering why the hell Chris was mad at me for talking to another guy. I still don’t know if he got the memo or not….but he ISN’T my boyfriend….we AREN’T dating…hell, we aren’t even TALKING. So what the fuck? Yeah…Cuban jealousy thing. Work it out short stack…and get over yourself.

The conversations between Lisa and Eliu have become more frequent and I’m terrified that this will be another Terry. I don’t want to lose her again (I know its corny, but she’s my one and only). Maybe it isn’t that healthy to depend on one person too much…but I do, and I know she does the same. Dare I say she is my best friend. I hate saying that word because I always feel like something goes wrong after it’s proclaimed. I want her to be happy, I really do. And if Eliu makes her happy…then bring it on. He’s a nice guy. I like him. He’s fun to hang out with and he’s a good time…when he backs off a little from her and doesn’t try to hump her leg every time she gets up to do something. I feel like he’s a little clingy, but he’s a good guy with his heart in the right place.

With that said…we went to the Tavern yesterday (Tuesday) for what we thought was karaoke night (turns out it’s like hip-hop night or something). Chris and I ended up fighting the whole night about “guys touching me every time we go out” . All I could say to him was “I’m not ugly!!! I’m sorry guys talk to me”.

He wasn’t having it. We closed it down (yet again) and went to Denny’s for breakfast. Lisa went home and I crashed for work TODAY…and have had really bad anxiety all day. I’ve been like…super emotional. Not like “boohoo” emotional, but just emotional. Like things are getting to me. I’m not really happy in the place that I’m in right now. I don’t know exactly WHAT it is…but it’s a sick anxiety that makes me nauseous and makes my head hurt. Maybe that’s why this update is not as funny as all the other ones. I’m sorry to disappoint.

But that’s the last couple weeks in a big bulk, with detail given where detail is deserved. I’m going to West Palm tomorrow to hang out with mom and dad and bring the boys up too. They haven’t seen the cats in awhile, and I think we’re all going to go see Wedding Crashers. I’ll let you know how it was. Another interesting Saturday night should occur this week…so we’re both in suspense as I leave you….


Bowing out gracefully (as if I’d be anything else)….

Emily