Maybe 75-100 is closer to the mark but I was in no shape to judge, let alone count. Two weeks later and I am only now recovering from Davis Square’s communal celebration of late summer: Birthdaypalooza.
From the moment I was assigned the making of the punch, I became the mixologist of my own destruction, the architect of my undoing. The recipe was based loosely on something from one of those plastic bound fundraiser cookbooks no doubt compiled by disarmingly matronly pillars of the community. To the extent that I can recall, the recipe was as follows:
• 1 big bottle/jug of orange juice
• 1 quart lemonade
• 1 gabillion quarts Iced Tea – I used Pomegranate Juice tea bags & brewed the vat of it in my unairconditioned kitchen. (I do not recommend repeating said conditions.)
• 1-2 cups creme de cacao
• 2/3 bottle of apricot brandy
• the remainder of a handle of Bacardi dark rum
• 1 bottle Gosling light rum
• garnish with chunks of fresh coconut
• season to taste with a few generous splashes from another handle of light rum (adjustment courtesy of the Zoo Mass alums)

The result? A punch with serious kick. A kick, that I might add, gave me 32 smacks in the ass (and an extra one to grow on.) I’d just as soon not grow any this year so the last one was overkill.
It may have also been the straw that gave the camel a bad back. Had a been younger, I might have suffered through the hangover. However, the wisdom I have garnered in my first 32 years help me to steer clear of that as I slept through the entire next day, waking at 10 pm.
My first meal was typical hangover fare (the closest thing to me which required zero preparation): Betty Crocker chocolate frosting straight from the can. The dark side of my brain took over as I imagined a scenario in which my untimely expiration came about mid-container. I know it wouldn’t be funny for whomever found me deceased under the covers with a partially frosted face and hairdo befitting the bride of Frankenstein. Sugar rush tends to bring about inappropriate reactions and this image thoroughly amused me at the time.
As an advocate for getting one’s daily allowance of the frosting group, this would normally not be problematic behavior. I, however, must fit into the dress pictured (in teal) on September 16th for friends’ wedding. Finding a $498 Elie Tahari dress on sale (relatively close to season) for $36 is the equivalent to coming across the holy grail while cleaning out your parents attic. Would a size 4 have been more comfortable? Yup, but the size 2 did zip up when last I tried it. For $36, I’ll wear a girdle whilest sucking it up (and in) for the afternoon/evening…
I’m also going to lay off the frosting. That should prove helpful.
Tags: advocate, architect, Betty Crocker, Davis Square, fundraiser, USD