Hey, party people. It’s been a while since I’ve gone on an alcohol-induced adventure.
Are you ready for it?
I was so fortunate to be able to spend my Halloween at my favorite Natty filth hole, The Press Box. Only this time, it was rented out for Fright Night. For anyone who lives under a rock, this is Sigma Nu’s annual Halloween party.
Everyone tells you not to drink the punch at frat parties.
“You never know what’s in it.”
“My friend got sick from the punch.”
“I drank the punch, and I’m telling you: I don’t remember anything from that night.”
I personally learned my lesson about the punch. This is not my first frat party. Did I still drink four cups of it? Absolutely.
It was a night of partying, dressing as provocatively as you want with no guilt and talking to blackout-drunk guys all night.
With every cup of varying-colored punch, I felt myself surrendering to the alcohol. And you know what? I felt great. Everyone’s allowed to destress from the pressure of school, family and any other personal shit building up.
I remember ending up on stage at one point with sorority girls dancing to music you’d find on TWERK Radio on Pandora.
Normally, this is a sight I’d roll my eyes at and think, “Wow… Those people look ridiculous.” But in the moment, I realized how much fun it is to be that girl: to be confident – or drunk – enough to do whatever I wanted on stage because no one’s watching me.
The end of my night is sadly a blur. I remember waking up to videos of drunk girls singing “Unwritten” in the bathroom and stories of how I fell in the parking lot of The Press Box and my driveway.
At least I didn’t go home with anyone this time.
While usually I’d spend my Tuesday nights catching up on my latest Netflix show or studying for some ridiculously-hard exam, I got to have a night to partially remember with some of my best friends.
Be ready for the next adventure.
XOXO, Party Girl