I Was Regurgitated by a Pterodactyl

I am 28 years old. I know people who range in age from 24 to 42. On any given Friday night I am sitting at home with my fat husband watching American Pickers and petting my cat. We never go to a party. We really never go anyplace where the express purpose is drinking. In my world that kind of thing is something that I “left in college.” Seriously though, I never did it in college either.

But, I know people, all 24 to 42 of them, who still occasionally (or frequently) partake in these activities. They go to parties, get drunk, throw up in a vase at someone else's house, and pass out. I was black out drunk once. It was the worse experience of my life. I woke up feeling like I'd been regurgitated by a pterodactyl.

We don't even have alcohol in the house. Not because I'm that salty about it, just because it never occurs to us to buy any. There was a bottle of wine once, I had a glass, the bottle sat in the fridge for 2 months and I threw it away. Alcohol doesn't even taste good! Now don't give me the “then you haven't had good alcohol” nonsense. I have. It was still gross.

I almost had a dry wedding. I didn't see the point of spending the extra money. But I got so much flack from others that I gave in an we had beer and wine. Therefore, we also had drunk people. Why was this necessary? I didn't want drunk people, but apparently drunk people are “part of the experience.” Why?

I don't feel old as I sit on my microfiber sofa with my dogs watching Antiques Roadshow and crocheting. In the middle of the day. In a house coat. Now, take this with a grain of salt, because I also don't own make up. Or anything that you could wear to a cocktail party. I might in all actuality just be a stick in the mud. But I just don't see the point! It's expensive, it tastes bad and it will make you all weird in the head. And I'm already weird in the head.