Celia celebrated her 21st birthday on Saturday. Instead of drinking herself to death like so many 21 year-olds do, she left that task to her friends and husband. A picture is worth a thousand words, so here you go:
(This picture will stay up until Sherry demands that I take it down.)
(Edit: I made this picture much smaller to avoid Sherry’s wrath.)
We had about 10 people over, and ate dinner at Fyfe’s. I had about $70 worth of alcohol at the house, and was determined to get rid of all of it. I started mixing my world-famous “Wobblers”, which I perfected at the age of 16, working as a bartender. True story.
In the sake of full disclosure, here’s a picture taken of me that evening:
If you will, imagine me making that face and laughing for 5 straight hours, and you’ll have a pretty good idea of how I acted that evening. I more or less ruined Celia’s party, but the party was my idea. Is it possible to ruin something that you planned yourself? I’m not sure, but I more than paid for it on Sunday. Poor Benjamin threw up 3 times, cursing me for encouraging him to drink. That’s about all I care to remember. I spent Sunday on the couch, sipping orange juice and watching football, trying very hard not to move.
What an idiot.
I want to formally apologize to the following people: Celia, Benjamin, Sherry, Lindsay, Aaron, Anna, Amy, Chris and Cassie for my behavior. I was annoying, loud, overbearing and immature. I tried really hard to be a good host (reservations, booze, beautifully sliced cheese, etc.), but in the end, my lack of self-control turned me into a goon. I suck, seriously. In all fairness most of us were trashed, but I’m speaking for myself here. Hopefully, the next time we throw a gathering, you’ll put this behind you and show up.
First off, Celia totally didn’t deserve to have her birthday upstaged by her embarrassing husband. I felt like Homer when Marge tried to throw that classy dinner for her friends. In this case, I threw the dinner myself, but proceeded to throw up all over it. In recognition of this, I’ll be on my best behavior for the rest of the year. I’ll probably take her out to dinner a lot, too.
Secondly, no more excessive drinking for Ryan. I’m hereby authorizing Celia to use deadly force if necessary to keep me from turding all over the next party we have. I know she only keeps me around to look sexy and wear cute sweaters, so that’s all I plan to do from this point forward. No more talking, because it’s not my strong suit anymore. I’ll cover my personality with hipster glasses and well-fitting denim, and sip Sprite for the rest of my life. I came to this conclusion on my own, because it’s the best way for me to make things right.
Ken Jennings is going to lose tomorrow on Jeopardy. You should watch it.