I cleaned out some of my childhood closet today at home. It was a disaster. I just have too much sh*t. And too many memories attached, so I'm basically a prime candidate for that hoarders show at this point. I'm one of those that won't part with a movie ticket from this movie for no particular reason, or a wristband from that college formal for also no particular reason. It's ridiculous. I also found this photo of Banta and I from junior year at SMU. It was Halloween, my most favorite holiday, and of course, being the last-minute-Linda that I can be, we had to throw together the easiest female costume of all time for my drunken self, Cleopatra. Banta had the robes, I had the jewels, and the Loon had the rest. We had a blast. Man, that night was just too much fun. Surprisingly I remember most of it.
The best part, though, and I can say this years later now that it's finally funny, was the very end of the evening. Caitlin was already at home getting her zzzz's while Banta and I had to make our ritual end-of-the-drunken-night Pluckers run at 3AM; fortunately for us, Pluckers was literally half a mile from the apartment between Mockingbird & Lovers. Obviously, being the broke college students that we were, we preferred to spend our dough on Pluckers mild wing combos with fried pickles and/or mac and cheese, and not cab rides that we could easily walk in Nordy rack heels instead. So, we left the Loon for the evening in the infamous karaoke cab I'm pretty sure (?) and hooked it to Pluckers to get our order to go, and began our drunken, hot mess, ratchet trek home. BTW, I truly send apologies to any drivers that had to witness us that night. Jesus.
Anyways, we're hopping across the Lovers Lane intersection light down by where the old bookstore was that's now 24 Hour Fitness, and apparently there was a huge road stump/boulder/step/whatever that I missed. And, well, we've all seen the 'Scarlet Takes a Tumble' video on YouTube... yeah... mine was times ten. It was bad. I ate sh*t across Lovers like a boss, and I'm one of those that laughs daily at people falling so this was karma getting me back for the twenty years prior. For sure.
And of course Banta was more focused on getting home to her wings as I laid in the street dramatically, face-down, for five seconds or so with a massive head concussion. It was the most dramatic thing but I swear to you guys, I thought I was going to die. I'll never forget this moment for as long as I live. And so Banta grabbed all of our Pluckers and her Jersey ass kept trekking while I had the awful, drunk b*tch tears flowing. I could've won my Oscar that night. But we get home, I'm still crying, blood is everywhere from my forearms and knees getting scraped up like some 5-year-old learning how to skateboard. And I go into Banta's bathroom, I'll never forget this, and scream out in horror because half of my effing right eyebrow is GONE. And anyone that knows me knows that I'm serious about my eyebrows and dream daily of having big, thick, Brooke Shields-esque ones. So that dream went down the drain real quick. And all I could do at that point was eat my feelings out in wings. And I did.
And then came class the next day... And Italian with Professor Brandy, (who will forever be one of my SMU favorites!) who most definitely called me out, Italian-mama style. Yeah, that was fun. I had a huge patch across my right forehead because my eyebrow was gone, truthfully I needed stitches but obviously Pluckers was more important at the time, and my forehead was swollen like a melon. è stato molto, molto male! (Italian for it was really freaking bad). And I sat in the back of the classroom like a dog with my tail between my legs because despite everyone else being hungover from Halloween fun, everyone also knew that I had been that girl who had experienced some sort of drunk heels fiasco thanks to my one and a half brows/huge medical patch. And the majority of my class were freshmen, so that was fun being the irresponsible older girl. But hey, what else is/was new.
It took almost six months for that freaking brow to grow back in. I had to color it in daily with a pencil like some kind of washed up, 70-something hooker. Bad. Just bad. But hey, you're only young and dumb once, right? Ha. If I could go back I wouldn't change the evening. I mean, I would've watched my step a little more carefully or worn Toms for the night instead of awful heels. It was so much fun, though, and we've all had many laughs because of it now. I'm also one lucky mofo because no brain injuries were incurred from it (though many would beg to differ at that statement).
And with that, Halloween isn't for several months, but DCH Prom is this Saturday! So go get your tickets and come have funny fun.