Over the weekend, I went to a club in Hollywood with my sister to celebrate her birthday. She invited a large group of her friends and invited me to come too. I’m not a big clubber (and I’m usually against parties where I don’t know anyone), but I said yes because I’m trying to hang out with my sister more.
The club we went to was very fancy. It was like I was in an episode of Entourage, except that I didn’t see any celebrities. I had told my sister that I don’t really dance, so she made me her photographer for the evening. It worked out: I didn’t know anyone anyway, so being a photographer was less awkward than just standing around being a quiet observer.
I ended up drinking more than I was planning to (partly to save my sister from drinking all the drinks that people kept buying for her), but I think that helped loosen me up as the night wore on. I had a good time. We stayed at the club until closing (2am), and I went home with my sister; I zonked out on her couch around 4am.
As fun as the club was, I was exhausted from it. I didn’t have a hangover (I’ve never had one actually), but I felt tired all day Sunday and even Monday. I don’t know how party people do it; I can barely handle one night, let alone every weekend.
By the way, Happy Square Root Day! I had to throw that in to show off my nerdy math side. Square Root Day only happens nine times every century!