I don’t always get way too drunk, but when I do…

This weekend, my beau’s college best friends are coming in to town.
These are some awesome guys and they’ve all (25 ish guys) managed to stay pretty close since college.
(Here’s their secret: They have a list serve set up so that they can just email out things to everyone. Then throughout the day they email each other funny pictures, inappropriate stuff, and stuff about their lives. This goes on all day every day.)
So as they are coming in to town, I’m sure next weekend will be filled with a decent amount of debauchery. 
Debauchery, in case you were wondering, is one of my very favorite words. 
And thus, the beau nicely requested the other day that I try not to umm…get way too drunk.

We all look really sober here, right? Thanks Atlantic City.

Let’s be clear. I don’t have a super ridiculous history of this. But since college my tolerance has just plummeted. I cannot tell you the last time I even had a drink.

Wait, yes I can.
One beer at a family bbq two weeks ago.
Before that, probably a month.
So you see my point, I’m not a big drinker any more. 
But on the occasion that I do drink these days, I usually have no idea what my limit is. 
I go in blindly and hope for the best. 
You win some you lose some, right? 
And when I lose, I lose bad (I’m talking to you, Becky’s birthday party in January). 
So I promised him, and myself, that this weekend I’m going to have fun. But not too much fun.
Wish me luck? I’m gonna need it.
Plan of attack:
Large carb based dinner
Actually drink water between drinks
Monitor my own consumption

Easier said than done.

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