Drunken, Hazy Memories

So you're probably wondering what that was about...if only I could remember, I would tell you.

It started off like this--Eliana and I decided to throw a party with our favorite neighbors, "The Frat Boys." And me being a little Martha Stewart wannabe,I went a little crazy with the cooking and preparation. I think we started drinking around three. It gets kind of fuzzy after that, but I vaguely remember tequila shots, some wine, a few margaritas, some punch, some champagne, more margaritas, more tequila, some vodka, swigging tequila from the bottle, swigging vodka from the bottle, drinking punch out of the ladle from the punchbowl, finishing the tequila from the bottle, dancing on the window seat while belting out "Can't Fight the Moonlight..." apparently there were more, many more antics and stories of what I did, but I think Eliana and Trace are trying to spare me the embarrassment of actually knowing. I passed out in my room and when I woke up everyone was gone and Eliana had cleaned my whole apartment. I love that girl.

I was scrolling through the pictures from the party, nursing Day 2 of my hangover (yes, they last that long!), at my desk when the phone rang...

I am never drinking again

The Event

"Hey, Tig, I need the lighting adjusted." I said into my radio. "Rene, there are still six centerpieces missing from tables 24-30!"
"I'm on it." Rene, the catering manager, was always calm. Sometimes she annoyed me.
I had enlisted Eliana to help me tonight, and I flagged her down as she passed by, carrying an armload of brochures. "I need a drink."
Eliana shook her head. "Wait until the dinner is underway."
"Drink!" I called after her. I took a deep breath, put a finger to my twitching eye, and made my way to the entry to greet Heather Carrington. "Good evening, Mrs. Carrington."
"Good evening, darling girl, the place looks beautiful!" Heather trilled, snagging a flute of champagne off a passing tray.
"May I show you to your seat, Mrs. Carrington?" Holden asked, taking her arm and winking at me. I smile back and sagged against the wall. My feet were killing me already.
"Hey!' Ross barked, coming around the corner. "There are people at the door. Where's the registration?"
"There are invitation checkers standing by, Ross." I said, trying to control my temper that was threatening to spiral out of control. "Just let me know and I'll give them the high sign."
"Now." He said abruptly.
"Monica, cue the band. Eliana, prepare checkers. Rene, you ready?"
"Ready."
"Doors open."
I grabbed a glass of champagne from one of the waiters. "Keep it coming," I whispered.
I made my rounds about the room, checking on things as hors d'ouvres and champagne were passed. The ballroom was ready, glittering with crystals and candles illuminating centerpieces I wanted to freeze somehow until I got married. It was spectacular. The CFJJ multimedia presentation, which Monica and I had spent literally hundreds of hours on, was in the control room above the room, ready to invoke plenty of emotions that would ensure millions of dollars raised, to go to after-school programs, art and music therapy for children with incarcerated parents, and more. People were milling about all around me, talking and laughing and exclaiming over the exhibits that kids had made and I had painstakingly displayed all over the room.
"Excuse me, ma'am?"
I almost choked on my champagne as I turned around to see Simon Turner, the representative from the National Criminal Justice Reference Service. "Yes?"
"Monica Hadley sent me over to speak to you, she said you were the event planner for the evening."
"Yes, sir."
"From Moxie?"
"Yes."
"It looks great in here." Simon said. "The exhibit was a nice touch. Was that your idea or Heather's?"
"It was a collaborative effort."
"Well done." He clinked his champagne glass with mine and left. I almost passed out.
Three and half hours later, everyone had danced, eaten, drank, and written what I hoped were generous donations. The multimedia presentation had been perfect, there wasn't a dry eye in the house when the lights went on. I had only one complaint about seating, only 7 people showed up without reservations, and I had six glasses of champagne--and two mushroom puffs. I was bordering on tipsy--but not as tipsy as Heather Carrington, who was so drunk that Holden was practically carrying her to her car.
"Darling girl, you did magnificent!" She slurred. "We raised almost 13 million dollars tonight."
"New record." Holden added, passing Heather over to her driver. "Great job."
"Thanks, you too!" My head was spinning, and I don't think it was just from the champagne.
Ross was waiting for his car with Joe.
"A perfect evening." He said with a smile. "Really."
"Really?"
"Really." He confirmed.
I looked at Eliana. She grinned. "Party time?"
"Even better," I replied. "Nap time."

I have been sleeping in my office. Well, not overnight, but yesterday I could not figure out what was on my face until I realized it was my keyboard--and that I was sleeping on it. The CFJJ dinner was overtaking my life. We sent out maybe 3000 invitations, and they usually get 500 or 600 people. The ballroom can hold 2500 people, and we were rapidly approaching 2475. Between Holden and Monica, my contacts at the CFJJ, the caterers, Ross, my other projects, David, and some...other drama (more on that later), my head was spinning. All four of my phone lines were buzzing non-stop, I was drinking 5 cups of coffee a day, not eating chocolate, and did I mention there was drama?
"Reservations," I chirped into the phone for the hundredth time today.
"Hey."
"Eddie?"
"Yo, big sis, what's up?"
"I can't believe you're calling me!" I looked furtively around the room for Ross and then ducked my head. Eddie was one of my favorite little brothers" that I had worked with in my previous job. He was studying abroad for the year and I missed him.
"Sean told me you were crazy busy so I thought I would interrupt you."
"Thanks!" I took a sip of my now cold coffee. "How are you?"
"A little drunk," he admitted. "But not too drunk, don't worry. It was my roommate's birthday."
"Ah." I said. "So you had to go out and get wasted."
"Like you never do the same thing!" Eddie retorted. "I saw those birthday party pictures!"
"Um, hello. I would be legally allowed to drink."
"Everything's legal here!" He laughed. "Anyways, I have to go. Just wanted to say hey."
"Thanks, Eddie!"
"Love ya!"
The phone went dead and I smiled. Great kid. (AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ed, I miss you!)
"Hey!" Ross burst into the office. "Walden made a $20,000 donation to CFJJ and we need to seat him with the Carringtons."
"Oh no no..." I jumped out of my seat, only to get strangled by my headset. "Dammit! Ross, that's impossible! We've already done the tables!"
"Well, you'll have to redo them." Ross walked out of the office. I slumped back into my seat, just as Joe sauntered by my desk.
"Hey."
"WHAT?"
"Geez, you're pissy." Joe leaned against my desk. "Hey, did you look up that seminar info for me?"
"Hey, did you lose all use of your limbs in an accident and somehow can't manage to use the internet yourself?" I snapped. "Hello, CFJJ dinner. Ring a bell?"
"Oh, is that this weekend?" He asked innocently. "My bad."
"You have three seconds to back off really, really quickly."
"Children, please." Lainie, my coworker, waved her arms in the air. "Joe, leave her alone. Babe, here, have a cup of coffee." I took the steaming cup from her, glared at Joe, and turned back to the ballroom diagram.
"Here." Joe proffered three Splendas. "Need help?"
"I would like to stay mad at you."
"Well, you just can't, can you?" He grinned and walked away.
I groaned and picked up the ringing phone.
"Reservations."
"I am so glad you're there, darling," Heather Carrington trilled. My heart sank. "Darling, Harry Tremont just told me that he's coming!Isn't that just fabulous! So I'm going to want to put him at my table."
"Mrs. Carrington, I already have a full table for you," I reminded her. "I redid it twice."
Heather laughed. "That's okay, darling, you can move Freddy Carmichael."
"Mr. Carmichael is your co-chair." I said patiently.
"Well, I'm sure you'll work it out." Heather hung up and I buried my face in my hands.
Hey!" Ross came back in. "I have three more gold donors. Find a place for them."
"No!" I cried. "Look, Ross, I can't! We have no more room! We are overbooked! I don't care who is giving a million dollars to the CFJJ! We are done!" I threw my coffee in the trash and walked out of the office.