I'm a clA$$y birthday girl. Apparently.

Celebrated the big two seven last night.  

Happy Hour at Howl at the Moon.

Followed by Rockets game.

Followed by numerous bars.  

Took way too many shots.

Nasty shots.  Oatmeal cookie shots.  Really?

Drank way too many Three Olives Cherry and Cokes.

Got cut off at the bar for the first time in my life (I think).  Reasons above.

Played air guitar on my cast.  Let others play air guitar on my cast. 

Relived the night through my camera (pictures will NOT be posted).

No clue who 80% of the people on my camera are.  

Got called a cute "couple" with someone I wasn't a couple with, then asked to be a surrogate mother for the gay couple at West Gray Cafe at 4am.  

I realized I can never be a politician because of my drunken actions last night.

And according to my mom, I'm a very "mature" 27 year old by calling her at 3am begging her to sing Happy Birthday to me.  I am mature.  I love it.  

Here's to another great year.  Thanks to everyone that came out last night and all the cards, texts and voicemails (voicemails are permitted on birthdays).  

And we were so hungover we cancelled our plans today and ended up eating Thanksgiving Dinner at Lubys.  Yes, Lubys.

.jl.