We Touchdown There - draft day

First of all, why the EFF does anyone do this? 

It is hectic, gives you anxiety, and makes you angry and excited all at the fuckin same time. It was an intense 45 minutes for me... Maybe because I am a woman who prefers just rooting for a team and drinking,  or most likely it was because I clearly have NO CLUE about football. All I did know was that auto drafting was so damn tempting, but I was determined to try. I felt like I should have probably drank before, to ease the anxiety... But I mean, our original draft time was 10:30 so I couldn't be that guy.

I kid you not, I was nervous waking up this morning. I woke up two housr before our draft and got all of my notes prepared and organized... and then paced around like a crazy person.  Thanks to league rules, we were not allowed to use significant others for help. So what did I do? What this bitch does best.

Googled it.

I Googled all of my positions, and what order I should draft them in, and had about 12 options for each position, just in case. Did it work for me? Not at all. I think by the 10th round, I was Googling names in hopes that they might look like they were high up on a ranking list for fantasy football. 

What does that even mean?!? 

Thank the lord I was 2nd in the draft order, because, I heard that is good. So I mean I obviously must have done okay my first couple of picks?  Right? Please say yes, lol. I don't know. 

 I should definitely mention that this girl did not pay any attention to who was injured, who was suspended, and who was on bye weeks and when. Clearly the commissioner should have scheduled a Fantasy Football tutoring sesh.  It's okay. This year I am a beginner, next year I might have a clue. I said might.

Thanks commissioner.

Just kidding, i love you... now talk to me about trading...

#yeaiblameyoukinda

#younevermentioneditgotcray

#idontknowwhatimdoing

#pleaseletusdoafundraftorderpicknextyear

#leaguegoals

#wetouchdownthere

Vegas is a cruel evil bitch... And I love her.

I decided to wait on discussing Vegas because that word literally tickled my gag reflex for the last month.

Perhaps it is my age, or perhaps it is the fact that having a baby meant not going that hard for over a year, but seriously, Vegas tried to kill me. Or at least it felt like it. I always know that when I go, there is a chance the drunk can take me down, because hello, it's Vegas. She has no remorse, and only invites you for epic nights.  She tried to get the drank to take me out, slowly and softly, not rough and hard. She literally made it so I went to bed every afternoon after the pool party and every night after the club with a nauseating stomach ache, and an intense headache.

BUT, I didn't throw up. So, in a sense, I survived.

And, although my friends and I had vowed that 3 days was too many because we almost didn't survive 2 years ago, I thought it was perfect this time around. Arrive and relax the first night, followed by 2 days of pool parties, and 2 nights of clubs, and ending with an early flight home on the last day.  I think that it was perfectly spaced out and involved just enough dancing and more than enough drinking.  I also want to mention, that NOT eating probably contributed to my horrific hangovers. It did not help my body to balance out the drunk by avoiding food.... But I needed to make sure that I looked decent in my outfits. So food was not an option.
Priorities bitches. Priorities.

 The hangovers were also probably due to the Jameson I was force fed for breakfast EVERY morning. Followed by half of a bagel..... and then more liquor of course.  By the time we made it back to the room after the pool, we had 3 hours to sleep and shower, before the night festivities would begin. 
It was a pretty intense schedule if I say so myself.

 Through the hot messes, the drunkness, the overly sized souvenir cups, the tight dresses, the ratchet club, Calvin Harris, the shoes that ripped holes in our feet, the room bagels,  the daybeds, the tables and bottle service, and even the dancing on the tables and booths, we survived another year in Vegas.
We stayed classy.
We looked amazing.
AND most importantly, we made it through another year.
Vegas, I love you bitch.

 #wesawcalvinharris
#SEVENTEENFORTYEIGHT
#jamesonandbagels
#boozeandbitches

my twenty somethings ...

I have thirteen more days until my twenty somethings are a year closer to my dirty thirty.

I never understood what the big deal was with age until three days ago when i rewatched the Friends episode, "The One Where They All Turn Thirty." It finally hit me. I DO NOT WANT TO TURN THIRTY.
How do I avoid it? Can I skip it?  If I don't look thirty does that make it so I am not?

Really Rose? This is real life bitch.

Ugh.  It is just that there is something calming about still knowing I am in my twenties.... like I still have time....

Time for what you ask?!? I have no fucking clue. 

I mean clearly, I have had a baby, I have been in a committed relationship for nine years, I finished school and am about to finish grad school, and I am house hunting. I don't feel like I am behind in where I wanted to be in life... 

Perhaps it is just the thought that I still have time to be young? Lol. Because you know, 30 = old? 
I don't know. I know for sure I am not the only one either. Everyone I know gets their feelings hurt when I remind them that we are damn near 30. I think it is just a common fear when you are in your twenty somethings.  
 It's because at 21, turning 30 is so fucking far away.
No one ever tells you that it is all down hill after your 21st birthday.... I mean someone once told me, but you just figure it's an old person's bitter response to that fact that you are turning 21 and they are old as shit, LOL.
No one ever tells you that you spend so much time hanging with friends, taking trips, running a muck and fucking around between 22 to 25 that you turn 26 in the blink of an eye. And then by then, 30 is only 4 years away -__- .

I am not angry or bitter. I guess I am just scared. 30 is a whole other field of age that I have to get used to.  It's a decade that I am walking into blind after my 20s was so fucking beautiful, fun, relaxed, and full of growth.
What can my 30s possibly teach me?

Better yet, fuck what my 30s can teach me, I just want to be 24 again, lol!

Just kidding. I am sure it will have it's perks. I am just being a crybaby.

Plus, I have 2 more years.... in THIRTEEN more days.
wah.


"We had a deal, let the others grow old, not me!"

 

#ageaintnothinbutanumber 
#dontsayitoutloudthough