I use the term inevitable loosely.
Throwing up somewhere that isn’t a toilet.
It happens to the best of us. But if it was on someone else’s property you want to make sure you apologize and either clean it yourself or pay to have it replaced. Try to buy back the dignity you lost the night before with some manners.
Peeing somewhere that isn’t a bathroom.
Sometimes it’s a lawn. Sometimes it’s on a train coming from a riot after the Red Sox winning the World Series #NoHobo. Whatever. The bladder wants what the bladder wants.
Being THAT drunk girl.
Maybe you just spilled half a handle of someone else’s alcohol. Maybe you fell asleep on a couch at a party full of people you don’t know, in which case it’s not cute or adorable but embarrassing. Maybe you just announced at a party full of people that you also don’t know that you need to sit on a face. THAT drunk girl is a very complex character, capable of humiliating herself and her friends in ways that seem humanly impossible, but she makes a point of functioning outside of the boundaries of reality or social acceptability. Avoid being this girl as much as you can because after repeat offenses your friends will try to regulate your drinking, and nothing sucks more than being the friend on probation.
Failing a class.
It sucks, and you shouldn’t make a habit of it, but it happens and it’s not the end of the world.
The hookup that shouldn’t have happened.
When cheap, hard alcohol is in the mix, you’re bound to feel some urges down under. It’s science. And while I have an impeccable talent for suppressing said urges and dodging unfavorable situations, no matter how saucy I am, not everyone has that talent. Most people don’t, actually, and it’s likely that one night after six too many tequila shots you will find yourself in bed with a guy that kisses like a guppy and passionately caresses your elbows, and you will be filled with regret from the moment you go back to his room until you get drunk enough to forget it happened.
Trying too hard/being a freshman
Freshmen are terrible people, and not in the fun way. They come from high school, wide eyed and spread legged, certain that they are not only God’s gift to Earth but God’s gift to your school and that they will unquestionably be the HBICs of your campus. They religiously upload pictures of themselves with minimal clothing and maximum visible alcohol lest any of us forget how truly #srat or #college they are. Don’t get me wrong; to an extent, and in lesser doses, this behavior is acceptable. It’s like madras, seersucker, gingham and tartan. Alone and in moderation, they’re amazing. Mixed or in excessive quantities, they’re tacky and abrasive. If you’re a freshman, just accept the fact that you will suck for the next year and will probably suck exponentially less next fall.
Rubinoff/cheap alcohol that comes from a plastic bottle in general.
Nothing but evil comes from a plastic bottle, but it’s all the best kinds. You will feel disgusted in the morning and have many questions unanswered, but you will continue to drink it because you’re almost positive that you had the time of your life and for a very reasonable price.
Waking up next to a half eaten box of Dominos.
You will realize that the freshman fifteen can become a sophomore sixty in the blink of an eye, and that you probably need to get your shit at least a little bit together.
The hangover from hell on the worst day to have it.
Maybe you have something big due by noon. Maybe you have to be at work at the crack of dawn. Maybe you have a funeral to go to. It’s going to be a long day, champ.
Eating shit in heels while drunk, but luckily you won’t remember it.
You will do SOMETHING to your appearance that looks absolutely atrocious, but none of your friends will have the heart to tell you. Whether it’s a stupid piercing (cough cough septum) or cutting your hair yourself (for me it was the drawn on eyebrow phase), you are going to do something to yourself that takes you down at least 3 points on the 1-10 scale.
The Existential crisis.
We all wonder if we’ll be in debt for the rest of our adult lives for no reason. We wonder if we will ever amount to anything or if we’ll go on to live lives of mediocrity. We wonder if we’ll grow up to be someone that our parents can boast about. Things may not work out exactly as you’ve planned, but the path to success is rarely a smoothly paved road. Hard work pays off, even if not immediately.
Hell hath no fury on your digestive system like a lot of alcohol, and to my knowledge there’s nothing you can do to avoid them. I think they’re God’s way of humbling us.