Part Three: Did The Hangover Actually Take Place in Newport?

Ok - I know - you've been on the edge of your seats waiting for Part 3 of this long ass story. Since i just want to get it posted I will make this quick - here are the 10 reasons why I think that I experienced the Hangover first hand (ok a very mild version, but still) in the last leg of Southern Belle's memorable trip.

1. Southern Belle, T and I were so disorganized/hung over from our nonexistent pot party that we had a tremendous late start down to newport which resulted in T having no dress to wear, no alcoholic beverages for the hotel room, and feeling like we had no direction in life.

2. All clad in bathing suits and sundresses we ventured out onto the streets of Newport only to find out that it was cloudy, windy and hence the coldest day of the summer.

3. I get pissed that a 10 year old kid beats me to the plastic fishing pond at the restaurant we eat lunch at. now it's not going to be funny anymore it's just a cute kid fishing.

4. After we try to revive ourselves with a shower and some dinner we realize that every cab in newport is being occupied by the newport jazz festival. do that many people listen to jazz? i didn't think so.

5. After dinner we head over to the headlining event - Tracey Morgan. We are taken on a pot filled journey that included jokes about va jay jay's, sex, relationships, michael jackson, and back to sex. 2 couples in front of us walked out. they had sweaters tied around their necks and alligators on their shorts. we leave feeling confused and a little violated.

6. we head over to a popular newport bar where one of our providence friends is with a bunch of his friends. we see that they are sticking post it notes with funny sayings on each other's foreheads while the person with the note has to guess what it says. i say "this is so stupid".

7. thirty minutes later i am anxiously awaiting my next post it note which is being carefully crafted by cute mark. it says "please don't make me go back to the hotel". i think he is sending me a subliminal message. or a very direct one. these post it notes are hysterical. we are so funny.

8. what is not funny is when a stranger threw up on me at the bar. yes. threw. up. on. me. i initially think that someone spilled their drink because it's all cold and liquidy. not chunky at all. when T points out that it's actually throw up - i start screaming at the top of my lungs " MY LEGS, MY LEGS" like i had stepped into a land mine and my legs had blown up. the bartender quickly gives us free shots to shut us up. thank god i was wearing a dress so i could wipe it off my BARE legs. i know...i know.

9. the night starts to get out of control with people named manchego dancing with southern belle like a crazy man, T ripping shirts off of people, and me begging to get on stage with the band (and succeeding of course) (until i felt a tap tap tap on my shoulder into the second song and turn around to see the lead singer giving me a look like - ok wacko - get off my stage.)

10. And finally leaving Newport the next morning - in an even more disheveled state than we arrived. If we were still playing the Post It game mine should have said Laughed with Morgan, Danced with Manchego and had a Blast with My Girls.

The end.