1, 2, 3...10 shots of Jager!

I don't drink. Okay, I do drink. I drink water, juice, and tea. I don't drink alcohol...much to Jason's chagrin and everyone else's surprise.

Before I was 21, it was purely out of disinterest. After I was 21, it was because my body just couldn't handle it. After 2 sips, my face would swell to a splotchy red, I'd lose all ability to hold my head up, and I'd develop what soon became known as "The Leslie Drunk Face". Not to mention I'd get really bloated. So what fun is that? Who wants to party with a red-faced farter?

So why I took 10 shots of Peach Shnapps and Jagermeister on Saturday night is totally beyond me. (But boy oh boy, was it fun!)

That Saturday afternoon, my mom, me, my housemate Rachel, and my future housemate, Heather, took a little girlie roadtrip down to Louisville, KY to witness the spectacular, 17th annual Thunder Over Louisville event. If you aren't familiar with this event, it is the opening day festival of the Kentucky Derby - an entire day of air stunts capped off with grand pyrotechnic fireworks at night. Basically, a glorified day of rednecks, hillbillies, and free-flowing alcohol! My mother's client, Terri, had bought her a hotel suite and invited her, along with all his friends, to enjoy two rooms of free catered food, desserts, and drinks.

So after us girls went down to the streets to enjoy the festival, bought funnel cake (mmm, funnel cake!), and witnessed a rebel teen get ass-laid down on the concrete and arrested by a cop, we headed back up to the hotel to eat more food and, unbeknownst to me, get plastered.

I'm not sure why I did it. Maybe it was the great company. Maybe it was the pretty little shot glasses. Actually, I think I saw the colored tubes and thought, "Oooo, colored tubes! Whatever comes out of colored tubes can't hurt you, right? Here I go!"

4 shots later, my face was red, my temperature was through the roof, and Cathy, Terri's wife, was grabbing my ass.

6 shots later, I was the entire party's favorite little gal, was wearing the "Leslie's Drunk Face" like it was the only expression I knew, and some random old guy told me he thought my mom was hot and asked to take pictures with me.

8 shots later, I was crawling on the floor, drunk dialed Jason, and told him "I looooooove you" about 5 times.

10 shots later, everyone was calling me "sweetie", Tylenol was my best friend, and people were taking bets on how long it would take until I threw up.

I will have you know that not only did I NOT throw up, but we woke up at 6:30 the next morning, and since my mom lost her license, I drove all of us back home. In one piece.

Sources now tell me that they diluted my drinks to slow me down, but I say, "To hell with that. Even if 10 diluted drinks equal 5 power drinks, that's still a lot!" Your little Asian held her own!

Since Heather took all the pictures, I am waiting for her to burn me a CD so I can show you all the pictures of fireworks, hot girls (that would be me and my friends) and my drunk face. In the mean time, enjoy the following picture that my sister took: