was today the last day on Earth? I hope not.. I was hungover from the Chicagonow Holiday Blathering

I can't believe THIS is how I spent my last day on this planet.

Called in sick to work.  Laid in bed pretty much all day except the trip to get a greasy burger  for this wine hangover I apparently forgot was going to happen as I drank wine after wine last night.  Hey, it was free.

For some reason I have never learned to say no to free drinks.  Ever.   Even drinks I don't particularly like...  aka the red wine from last night.

I'm going to recap the last  36  hours of my life on this planet.... you know, since it is ending tomorrow, along with all of yours.  And who knows maybe the one thing to survive it all will be the internet, along with everything ever posted on it.

It was the night of the Chicagonow Holiday blathering....  or you could call it a Christmas party.  I had to take the Metra into the city and I always stress about not getting to the train on time.  I always get there with 5 minutes to find a parking spot, which is pretty easy, and pay for said spot, which is the hard part.  It never fails. I try and try to punch in the parking stall numbers and stick my debit card in the machine only to have it repeatedly tell me that I'm an idiot.  I am not doing something right.  And I start to have a panic attack because I can see the train headlights coming right at me  and I can hear Johnny Cash singing to me and I am convinced it is going to come and go without me.   This is where my date, who is also my 21 year old, takes over.  She shoves me aside and says "I am a very laid back person and you stress the F*** out of me.. MOVE!"   She then puts in her dollar bills and it spits out the reciept.  HOW did she do that? I wonder.  Oh well.  Who cares, I'm getting on the train and my heart can slow back down.

I take my seat.  I look up to see my daughter glaring at me because I had the audacity to take the seat that doesn't travel backwards.  I move. Because she is spoiled.  We drink our McDonalds cokes.. the ones with 2 shots of Jack in each of them.  The conductor is scary.  Jingling his keys and giving us the eye.  Like he can sense that we are up to no good.   He yells at my daughter because her red mane is covering her ticket behind her.  Why can't he be more like Ringo?

Last stop Ogilve.  That's us.  And OMG do we have to pee!

We hail a cab.  It is one of those interesting rides.  Fast.  Alot of honking.  Music blaring.  Singing.  Windows open.   I think it takes us 10 minutes to get to Wrigleyville from the stop.  I am NOT exaggerating!   My daughters eyes were wide and she kept looking at me with her   "mommy why don't I have my seat belt on?" face.  When we try to use my debit card to pay, he says cash only.  I then notice the meter isn't running ... aka he's on break and pretty much doing something he shouldn't be doing.

We arrive at Duece's and the Diamond club and instantly get in line to get the hookup of free sliders and wings.  There is no way I am getting wings all over my face, but I tell my daughter she should definitely get the wings.

I also convince her that I know all the words to Salt & Pepper Shoop  and she should  sign us up for Kareoke.   Deep down I know that I really only know the first line.. you know "Here I go Here I go Here I go again!"... after that.. I'm lost.  But I know she knows the song and since she is wearing the skirt I originally bought for myself because she told me I was too old to wear it and I ended up wearing a dowdy gray skirt instead of sparkles, she deserves this.   Yes.  Definitely deserves this.

Hours into the night and probably 2 bottles of wine inside of me I am bee bopping around the joint as if I don't have a care in the world..  okay.. I didn't.   The only care I had at that point was the fact that I promised the bathroom attendant I would give her a tip NEXT visit, but I only had a debit card and I didn't see an atm in the restroom amidst the soap and perfume bottles.  So I knew the next visit would be awkward.  Finally by the 8th visit into the ladies room I told her "no" when she asked if I "wanted soap ma'am?".   I felt guilty for making her squirt my hands when I had full knowlege that she wasn't getting a dime from me.  Just because I didn't HAVE A DIME!

By the end of the night, I was riding the escalator downstairs in a fashion I would have killed my younger children for even attempting.

At midnight I knew it was time to head into the pumpkin so we could catch the last train outta dodge. So we tell our newfound friends goodnight, until we meet again (if we can remember them) and catch a cab.  This cab ride was the complete opposite from the first one.  It was more like a Joel Osteen  sermon.   We fell in love with our cab driver.  I think.   How come all the good ones are from Jamaica?   And whatever they say with that accent just makes you want to smile and say "right on man".

Upon arriving at the station the attendant tells us we still have a half hour before our train leaves.  Oops.  Sorry kid.   We find an open Popeyes chicken, because for some reason Taco bell and Mcdonald's  are closed and it's easier to eat chicken and biscuits drunk.  Apparently.  Except by the time I spit biscuit crumbs two times at my daughter and felt the grease all over my face and hands, I realized what an odd choice this is for the drunk to eat.  A.k.a. us.  Fries would have been so less messy!

The train ride home was pretty lame.   I remember  my daughter telling me to quit drooling on her and to sit up straight.  I just kept telling her "I'm tired".  The men next to us were having a conversation about fruit and falafal.  I know this because my daughter was still bitching about them long after they got off.  Falafal.  Falafal.  Googling this right now.  I do remember waking up and we were the only two left in the car so my daughter starts dancing around like a drunk maniac.  And I realize how great live entertainment would be on the Metra.

CRYSTAL LAKE.  I never thought I would hear those words.  I am picking up my purse thinking that it seems lighter than when I made the trip down which made no sense since I collected business cards from all the cool kids I met.  But I am too drunk to be super coherent and head for the sliding doors.  My daughter screams at me"Aren't you forgetting something Einstein?" and points to the seat that had been mine with keys, cell phones,that useless debit card and business cards all over it.  Okay, that explains alot.

We made it home in one piece.  It was such a fun party.  I love Chicagonow people.  And I love my daughter.  I hate hangovers.  I will never learn from them.  I wasted the last day of my life in bed with a stupid hangover.  And the last meals I fed my kids were boxed White Castles, bagel bites and hot pockets.   And I am still wearing the same mascara I put on over 24 hours ago.  Ew.

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