An open letter to my friend Danny

To start off with, I suppose the term 'friend' is a bit generous since you're an ex of one of my friends, but whatevs, I'm stepping over boundaries.

I know it seems like I drink/party a lot because lately every time I've run into you, it has been either at a liquor store, the pop aisle in the grocery (because everything goes better with 'seven', tonic, or soda, or at a party where I'm so drunk that I have to hold on to the bannister to remain upright.

Yesterday, I ran into you at the liquor store in my pregaming finest - a polo and sweats - blathering on about how we were hitting up the strippers with a mickey of vodka in my hands.

I know - it looks really bad, especially since, for the past two years or so at least, I've pretty much stated at every possible opportunity how much I despise drunks, and especially drunk sorority chicks:

CM - "When the bar is really busy, I just buy myself a bottle of wine...that way when I want another drink, I can just serve myself"

Gingerbread: [cough, cough]...lush

so this must come as a surprise to you.

But what it really comes down to is the realization that it is slowly becoming unacceptable for me to be 'drunk in public' and the like, as the years go on, I'll get more judgemental stares and disapproving head shakes, than high fives for regaling coworkers with drunken tables of beer-bongery and B&E-ing into an 'abandoned RV', so I've decided to live in the moment.

So I hope this doesn't change our relationship, or make you think any less of me.

I know you've always seen me as the level-headed girl with a good head on her shoulders, and I can still be that girl, just know that I'll have a couple drinks in me and a purse mickey to boot.

Sincerely,

[team gingerbread]