The next thing I knew I woke up in a different apartment, in a strange bed, completely dressed, with the worst hangover ever.

Coming from a small town in North Carolina, Atlanta is significantly different: a lot more stuff to do on the weekends, places that actually stay open after midnight, and best of all, ABC stores that stay open until 11:45PM. Well, being from a small town, the opportunity to really party was rare. Sure, parents would go out of town for a weekend and someone would have a party of maybe twenty-five people. But, I fully expected that my first weekend of college would definitely be something to remember.

My friends and I were going to make our appearances at a few parties and then head back to the apartment to watch some TV and drink a little more. Well, for me, it started with a few Coronas at the first party. I'm not one to like beer, so this was a milestone that I could actually handle a few beers without yacking all over the place. After leaving that party, we headed to the apartment. There, I fixed myself a few, umm, how shall I say, not-mixed-too-well drinks. They were mostly liquor, with very little mixers. Then some friends, Ashley and Jason decided to do something that required me to leave the apartment. I'm not too sure what it was, I just know that Ashley and I were running one way down the hall, me carrying a full drink (and not spilling a drop). We stopped at someone's door and wrote a smart-ass comment on their white board.

Well, running around a three-story apartment building didn't have a positive effect on my stomach. When we got back to the apartment, I made what I thought was a good decision. I chose to lay off the alcohol and, instead, drink water and eat some popcorn to try and sober up a little bit. Well, that didn't work. About thirty minutes later, I was in the bathroom for about forty-five minutes praising the porcelain god. I then sat on the couch and began to ramble on in a drunken state of mind, when I was told to just go to sleep. The next thing I knew I woke up in a different apartment, in a strange bed, completely dressed, with the worst hangover ever. It was amplified when I had to march around in the sun all that afternoon for the last day of band camp.

I may not remember some of that night, but I will ALWAYS remember one thing: Beer before liquor, never been sicker. That, and I learned the importance of knowing my tolerance.