As far as partying goes, I suppose I was a bit of a late bloomer. My friends and I were really tame in high school. I wouldn't say we were big dorks or anything, but we definitely were not in the partying/drinking crowd. When it came time for college, several of us went to the same large, nameless state university. (Go Illini! Oops.) I still remember our first few weeks there like they were yesterday. They went something like this: "Hey 17-year-old girls, want to come to a frat party?" Us: "Yeah, totally!" (trying to pretend like we're so cool and we do this stuff all the time). Then we would go to the party and 6 of us would be terrified and trying to pretend like we knew what we were doing. We would stand around in a circle and whisper about whether or not we should get beer/whatever mixed drink of dubious nature was coming out of the gigantic gatorade cooler. Finally, two or three of us would grow balls and go get a cup of some frosty adult beverage. Note: that's a cup. As in one. TOTAL. And then six of us would drink from it and try not to make the beer face after every sip.
After a couple months, though, we started to get the hang of things. I don't remember when, exactly, I first got drunk, but I do remember everything else. My friend Adam, who was a year older, lived in a house on campus with several other guys. They had a house party one weekend, and I went with my then boyfriend Brian and my friend Jessica. I was drinking some kind of lemonade and everclear mixture which was not quite as offensive to the palate as the Natural Light of the frat party scene. After a cup or two, I started feeling VERY outgoing and happy. I couldn't stop smiling and laughing. Or peeing. The first time I got in line for the bathroom, a couple of British girls came up behind me and asked, "Is this the queue for the loo?" which, of course, at the time was the cutest, most hysterical thing ever said to me. Also note: as this was my first time drunk, I had not yet experienced the sensation of "breaking the seal."
On my next trip to the bathroom, I was in line with several guys. I happened to strike up a conversation with the bloke standing behind me, in which I revealed that it was my first time drunk. He asked how it felt, to which I replied, "I think I'm cute when I'm drunk! Do you think I'm cute when I'm drunk?" He explained that he had never seen me sober, but I did appear to be pretty cute when I was drunk. We continued chatting about nonsense until it was my turn. When I came out of the bathroom, he grabbed my arm before entering and told me that he and his friends were sitting in the front room of the house and I should definitely come find him. I asked if it was OK if I brought my boyfriend. I'm like that. Flirt, flirt, flirt and then drop the bomb.
So, on a high of having some random college guy telling me I was cute and that I should come find him later, I decided that it was the appropriate time to start asking everyone at the party if they thought I was cute when I was drunk. Apparently I was cute to a point, and then I just became annoying. Yeah. I can see that.
As the night wore on and I continued to get...uh, cuter and cuter, I began using the bathroom more and more frequently. On one of my trips to the bathroom, I noticed just before doing my business that there was no more toilet paper on the roll. I looked under the sink. None there. I looked in the medicine cabinet. None there. Then I looked on the shelf on the wall, and there was one lonely roll. Except. Keep in mind that I was in a house that was inhabited by men. Mostly of the tall variety. And I'm 5'5". And this shelf was mounted at about 6'2". And the roll of toilet paper was the only thing up there, and it was all the way at the back of the shelf. So I jumped and I pawed at the toilet paper over and over until I eventually got the damn thing to roll off the shelf. And I was drunk. For the first time ever. And did I mention that I was also cute?
So, I came out of the bathroom and I hunted down my friends. And I told them with a grand sense of accomplishment, "I changed the roll of toilet paper!" Except I didn't explain the part about the shelf being really high and me risking life and limb to reach it. Not that it would have mattered, probably. I mean, I was boasting about changing the roll of toilet paper for christ's sake. Of course I have been teased mercilessly about this since. I've kind of tried to accept it as my super power--the ability to change the roll of toilet paper while drunk. Now I do it whenever I can at parties. And people take pictures of it, as seen in my profile picture. It's a tough task, but someone has to do it.