Here's some listening music while reading
After polishing off the remaining booze in the house the Roomie was finally awake and we headed to the store to replenish the supply. I had invented "Diva Days" a while back and they are usually held on Sundays (not in this instance) but it includes sunglasses on in or outdoors, lots of drinking and minimal movement. We get to the store and I climb into the shopping chart - walking is for peasants on Diva Day. We walked around and the boys were picking up random items, including but not limited to, produce and beaming me with it - we are shit housed and it wasn't even 8am. I was video recording the entire walk through the store - this I can not upload due to the identities of my characters being compromised, just know it's hilarious and if I can figure out how to blackout their faces I'll upload it for your enjoyment... until then, deal with it. We walked around the store like hurricanes of drunkness throwing stuff around, yelling, crashing me into every pole in the place and arguing about what groceries we are going to get and which we were not. I was making crab eggs Benedict (which turned out pretty good considering) we had several items in the cart including eggs, produce, etc. Phil decides it's time for me to go for a "ghost ride" down the aisle, meaning he pushes the cart as hard as he could and sends me down the empty aisle. This results in me crashing into a large pole and my Roomie sticking out his foot at the same time to "save" me. This maneuver causes the cart to flip over, shit flew every where and I do a somersault out of the cart, all the groceries are scattered on top of me and all over the floor. The eggs we're ruined at this point (obviously), every single one was cracked, so our next move is back to the eggs to replace the broken one for usable ones all the while making a mockery of ourselves. Still to this day, I have no idea why I'm still allowed back in this store... I've done crazy shit like this time and time again and never a word has been said to me nor do I know why we weren't asked to leave at all on this particular day - this was by far the best trip ever.
We get back to the house and continue to drink, Phil makes the statement that "we" have to go pick up Fitzy from the airport sometime later in the day. We come up with brilliant/drunk ideas as to how we were going to get her and decided that she couldn't be mad at us for being drunk assholes if we get her in a limo. We were so very very wrong. I was in and out of random sleep planking all about the house (this is a usual thing - I can pretty much fall asleep anywhere) and in between mini sleep sessions I'd wake up do more shots with the boys and continue on with the day. When Fitzy got home - me, Phil and Roomie were all passed out outside, she was not happy to say the least. She walked in like a volcano/tornado/buzz saw combo that we were not prepared for, she also had Todd following in behind her (he had picked her up because she was so pissed at us. Those 2 ended up going to a pool party for a few hours to blow off some steam). Fitzy was yelling and getting in all of our faces because we had destroyed the house and apparently had a glass fight while in blackout mode because there was glass everywhere... not joking, fucking everywhere! She had every reason to be as pissed as she was but the 3 of us were still in a drunken stupor and couldn't figure out what the problem was and as you can imagine this infuriated her even more. Phil vanishes, Roomie vanishes, leaving me, Fitzy and Todd in the kitchen yelling at each other, well Fitzy and I were yelling and no one was paying any mind to Todd. I'm not really sure how the conversation went but I do remember telling her she was over reacting... this sent her even more over the top. After fighting with her for what seemed like eternity I too decided to vanish and packed the dogs into the car and headed over to the Roomies (I had not lived there at the time). I shouldn't have been driving AT all! Binge drinking sorrow after sorrow away for 2 whole days straight, I wasn't thinking properly. In my less than 2 mile drive to the Roomies I decided to head back to Fitzys and do... I have not fucking clue... what I ended up doing is walking through the door, grabbing the broom and randomly sweeping glass up. Her and I start yelling and carrying on and I leave for the last time of the night. I get to the Roomies and he and I continue to drink and talk about what the fuck just went down then my phone starts ringing off the hook. It's Fitzy. Apparently while her and I were throwing down Phil snuck out of the house and no one knew where he was and he didn't take his phone so they had assumed he came with me and the Roomie to resume drinking. They ended up finding him at the bar around the corner talking to the bartender about his problem, cliche, I know. I'm not sure exactly what had happened after that because I wasn't there, but the night ended with Fitzy turning into Mohamed Ali and punching Phil in the face a couple times.
I wake up the next morning pretty early, face down on the floor and wearing only my bathing suit and a tee shirt. Seeing as this weekend was such a shit show... I wouldn't expect anything less. I rounded up my pups and head home for the day. Before I even get out of the drive way I realize I need gas or I'm not making it home. Awesome. I head to the gas station and get out of the wearing the same outfit I had woken up in and high heals (because that's all I had). Of course, at the very moment I step out of the car to pump only the necessary amount of gas to get home and 5 cars pull up all of them are staring at the hot mess which is yours truly. Fucking spectacular. This day was know as pant-less Sunday, I was so sad about Fitzy and Phil leaving, the conversation I didn't remember I had with Matthew and the fight Fitzy and I got in to the night before. I was a mess, disheveled in a way I hadn't ever experienced before. I got home and could barely make it to my bed, I guess being full of self pity makes it difficult to do... well... anything. I change out of my bathing suit and into underwear and an over sized shirt and proceed to watch every sad movie I own, pushing me into a state of mind I don't care to revisit. Every movie and relationship I had applied to my own life even if it didn't apply to any situation or relationship, I made it fit and loathed the fact I was doing it. I felt as pathetic as I was acting. All day long pants were not an option, I walked my dogs with no pants on, went to the store to get booze (it was Wal-Mart so I fit right in). I was quite the shit show, and I'm not one for dramatics but I was full blown nut job. I kept telling myself how pathetic I was for feeling sorry for myself, what a fool I had been for thinking Matthew and I would ever be anything and kept calling myself "one of those girls". It was pretty bad. Phil had called me a few times but I didn't have the energy to pick up the phone laying right next to me, so he heytell'ed me (which is a sick app... if you don't have it, you should. It's a voice text message basically) saying that it's all said and done now and it's comical at this point. They wanted me to come over and have dinner with them but the catch was that Todd would be there. I told them thanks but no thanks. Phil had said something to make me feel guilty for not going because we all had limited time with each other so I maned up and put pants on and headed over. I walk in and they still thought I wasn't coming so they were a bit surprised to see me. I sit down and start talking about the night before, ignoring Todd every time he'd open his mouth - I was there for Fitzy and Phil and the only reason I had agreed to even come near Todd was due to extraordinary circumstances. Fitzy and I go inside and have a quick conversation (not in front of the guys) about what had went down with Matthew and I and since her and Phil have been together pretty much since birth she had zero advice. Her and I went back outside and reminisced about our hilarious times together then I went home to continue my sulking.
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