Mom, Dad... about the bills...

It was a very fun weekend and to be honest, I was pretty reserved. The whole water pipe fiasco ended up costing me much more than I anticipated and since any savings I’ve accumulated has pretty much been smoked, snorted, or used to bribe South American police officers, the ordeal was quite the financial burden. With money being a little tight, and us being way too cool to party at the Cro all night with free drinks, I didn’t go balls to the wall like usual. (You may or may not remember the last couple times I’ve drank free at the Crobar; two words: not pretty.) Also, since we were in “my city”, I sorta felt obligated to babysit the drunks… and drunk they were. Five women, two nights, countless drinks, numerous shots, and only one girl in tears and one credit card left in a cab – all in all, I’d say it was a success.

But, the bars are one thing; it’s easy for me not to drink. Shopping, however, is a whole ‘nuther vice. With me not having any self control and knowing my parents will offer to pay the damage expenses, and knowing I’ll take it because I have no pride, I dropped some serious numbers shopping. (Mr. Plastic, he's magic fantastic.) This morning, I made the mistake of looking at my statement online – So. Many. Charges. And although it could be the herpes talking, I am pretty sure the buyer’s remorse is making me ill