Do you ever feel that the stages in your weekly partying are slightly repetitive? Can you never shake the feeling that once you have completed one night of hitting the town, it reminds you in striking detail of the last time you went out with your friends, and the last, and the last? Sure, the details are what distinguish the nights from each other. But seriously. Are we really re-living the same evening over and over again? Let's see if you can recognize some of these stages...
Spleen United Suburbia
T H E C I R C L E O F P A R T Y I N G
I T A L L S T A R T S W I T H A S T O M A C H F L I P
As weekend rolls around the corner, you decide to go out.
W H I C H I S T H E N F O L L O W E D B Y A G R E A T I D E A
Stupid friend 1: "Man, we're gonna go wild tonight!"
Stupid friend 2: "Yeaah!"
Stupid friend 3: "We'zz gonna get druuunk, bitchezz!!"
T H E N C O M E S T H E W A R M - U P
Where you gather the best of friends, drink a whole lotta alcohol, and put on your finest of party get-ups.
Y O U T H E N P R O C E E D T O T H E A C T U A L P A R T Y
Where you decidedly get even more drunk, and suddenly become the social butterfly of the night.
S U D D E N L Y E V E R Y T H I N G I S F U N A N D B E A U T I F U L
You are cool, you are confident, you are having fun, and you are an EXCELLENT dancer.
(You are drunk, you are drunk, you are drunk, and you are drunkety-drunk).
B U T T H E N C O M E S T H E T U R N I N G P O I N T !
Either you or one of your friends is too drunk; you have been rejected by the cute guy or girl at the bar; everything is spinning and confusing and dark and suddenly not so fun anymore. You then decide that drowning your sorrows in alcohol is a great idea!
W H A T F O L L O W S I S I N E V I T A B L E . . .
Lights on, music off, going home, no more party, you're still drunk, but have to get yourself home. At this stage you are either A) alone, crying over something that you can't quite remember, but you know it's very important, or B) With all your friends, laughing and toasting and yelling in the train or cab home, stumbling around in the crisp night air.
Y O U T H R O W Y O U R S E L F I N T O B E D
Finally arriving home with your friends or alone, and positively throwing yourself into bed (or other various experimental places of sleeping), falling a sleep instantly.
A N D T H E M O R N I N G A F T E R . . .
The next thing you remember, you're in your bed, lying sprawled all over the sheets, clothes strewn pell-mell everywhere, perhaps a bit of vomit here and there, a pounding in your head, and an urge to run to the bathroom.
J U S T A S Y O U T H I N K Y O U ' R E A B O U T T O D I E
You finish puking. You get some sleep. You plant yourself in front of the TV, never to move again.
A N D W H E N Y O U F E E L U P F O R I T
You get the hangover munchies.
Y O U C A L L F O R B A C K - U P
Your best friends are only a phonecall away, and soon you can have someone to share your miserable hangover with. Laughing and groaning and gigglingly discussing the drama of the previous night, gossipping and finding pictures of yourself on the internet, and eating through the stash of food in your house.
Y O U D E C I D E T O G O O U T L A T E R
Suddenly, the thought of going out doesn't seem so bad; you're young, you're alive, and it's the weekend. So you decide to hit the town! Then comes the stomach-flip, and we are back to the beginning!
U L T I M A T E L Y , Y O U A R E C O N V I N C E D T H A T I T W A S
F U N E N O U G H T O D O I T A L L A G A I N !
After talking with your friends, reliving the previous night, your hangover doesn't matter. Neither does the loss of your keys, phone, purse or bike. It doesn't matter that you did things you will regret. Because you had fun, and you're young, and your stupid. And you will repeat the glory and mistakes of the previous night many times over. And what really matters isn't that your nights are repetitive; it's the individual nights and mistakes and thoughts and laughs and dances and flirts and memories, that will last you a lifetime.
And thus, the circle is completed!
Thanks for listening,
I Am Roseberry.