Everyone needs to have an unexplainable hangover in their lifetime. I’m not referring to the kind where you pray to the porcelain god and spend the next day asking everyone to speak low while you down Gatorade. I’m talking about the experience of The Hangover, the movie.
Now I know The Hangover came out almost two years ago, but R movies aren’t exactly on my repertoire anymore. If the movie isn’t made by Pixar, and doesn’t involve talking cars or zoo animals who decide to escape from New York, then I most likely haven’t seen it. So I was really excited to catch The Hangover one night on HBO. I’d heard how hysterical it was and it didn’t disappoint. I just had no idea how closely it was going to mirror real life.
Many, many moons ago I took a girls road trip to Las Vegas. Me, Doc, Mary Jane and Color Coded were heading to a friend’s wedding. Actually I personally barely knew the couple, but Doc and I were inseparable during my early ‘20s and we were going to Vegas, baby!
I’m not sure what time we started drinking when we got there. I don’t remember what we were drinking. When I woke up that next morning in the hotel room, fully clothed… on the floor and not remembering how we got back to the room, the memories weren’t linear. All these years later there are still moments of the night that I don’t remember, but…
Sitting at a hotel bar I fell off the bar stool. No one pushed me, I wasn’t reaching for anything, I just tipped right over. So being the lady that I am, I sat on the floor and crossed my legs under my dress. I then asked my friend’s to hand me my drink, on the floor. Of course they obliged and everything went down hill from there.
Mary Jane started to have an asthma attack so we had to find her an inhaler. Doc and I weren’t feeling compassionate so we left her and went to talk to the White tigers at The Mirage… The tigers made us cry, not sure why, but we stopped when Color Coded found some hotties to have a drink with.
There’s a little bar lounge in Treasure Island where R&B cover bands perform. Color Coded “suggested” I join the band on stage. I’ve always wanted to be in a band and that night I was…
Walking down the Strip with a cocktail in your hand, arms interlocked with your girlfriends while you sing at the top of your lungs is something every single girl should experience. No one stares at you crazy when you do this in Vegas, unless of course you get on a bus. Which we did and I have no idea why.
And that’s all I’ve ever been able to remember. We all made it back to the room and none of us were clear on how we got there. There was silence in the car as we drove into Barstow for the obligatory stop at McDonald’s. For the last leg of the journey home Mary Jane was driving and Doc was asleep in the front seat. Sitting in the back, Color Coded and I turned to each other at one point and just started laughing hysterically.
I thought I would hyperventilate from the laughter, from The Hangover and from those memories.
As the movie ended and the guys went through their pictures/evidence in their camera, a lump crept into my throat. Doc and I are no longer as close, Mary Jane and I only “chat” occasionally and after 10 years I just recently ran into Color Coded at a function where we shared a glass of wine and a laugh. And that’s OK, because that’s what life is all about, seasons, reasons and lifetimes. I’ll cherish those friendships and be grateful for the memorable experiences of my youth and the people I’ve randomly drank with along the way from Vegas, to LA. And extremely fortunate there were no cameras…
6ouncesofsanity 
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