My nose is freezing. Just my nose.

My brother got really drunk last night. By the time this actually posts, it could be Monday morning, so let’s just say he got really drunk Saturday night. This was the first time I had ever seen him drunk, and it was perhaps the first time he had ever been that drunk. I know he drinks beer, I’ve been told by mutual friends that he does. He’s 23 so it’s normal. But anyway, this was the first time I had seem him drunk, and in honestly I hope it’s the last because it was downright scary. It was also the first time I had seen my cousin drunk, but I know she drinks so I’m not too shocked. This is where I point out that she got into Margaritaville without getting carded (we would find out soon after she got in, that it’s actually 18+ to get in) and bought drinks without carded, she’s 20 and no longer has a fake ID.

Back to my brother again, I think this was the first time he had anything more than beer. I wasn’t really keeping count on how much he was drinking, I just know that after his two beers at my cousin’s room that he was drinking Captain/Coke, Jack/Coke, and Jager. My brother, cousin and I all took shots of Jack, too. They both yelled at me for my choice of whiskey. I like whiskey, they had the opportunity to veto my decision and choose something else. So the four of us (my cousin’s friend/roommate was with us. Apparently she’s our new cousin, I’m okay with this) spent the night dancing and singing along with the cover band playing. Creepy men kept hitting on us, and for some reason my brother thought it would be a good idea to befriend them. And then get on my case for blowing off this 40 year old who gave me the major creeps. The guy was cool when he was wanting to buy me a shot, but then he asked me to dance and when I said no, kept asking me. That’s when it got creepy. Thankfully my new cousin saved me, and we went outside so she could get a cigarette. We saw this really entertaining man on the sidewalk, who was dancing around and potentially drunk and homeless. Apparently he followed us back in, but I didn’t find this out until later.

My brother was acting really obnoxious and emotional. I yelled at him for taking our finished drinks and just dropping them on the ground like an asshole because I thought it was really fucking rude when there was a trashcan maybe 10 feet away. He yelled at me multiple times telling me “you better not hold me being trashed against me” or it was something along these lines. I rarely play the “older sister” card, maybe because I rarely get the opportunity to do so, or maybe because we are so close in age (he’s 11 months younger. Irish twins, yo) that I don’t feel like I have to. But I had to last night, so I physically pushed him in a chair and made him drink water. He fought me on it, but ended up doing it anyway. Except then when I went to find my cousins, he got up and followed, so then we just ended up taking him to a different table and all sat down. We were trying to get him to drink more water, and he did before he threw his cup against the wall. He looked like he was in a daze, like in his own little world. And I asked him twice if he was okay, and both times he was like “welcome to nightmare”. I still don’t get why he said that, I haven’t asked and maybe I don’t want to know. One of the staff members at the place was keeping an eye on him and brought over a trash can and another cup of water. Heather (my new cousin) and I ended up going outside, assuming it wouldn’t be much longer until Ashleigh and Peter were out there with us so we could head back.

Heather was on the hunt for another cigarette, so we started walking with this cute guy from Northern California whom wouldn’t let me have his tie. I think his name was Todd. His friends Brendon and Kiernan we walking ahead of him. Apparently Brendon is an actor and on IMDB, they weren’t lying about the IMDB part either. But anyway, we walked with Todd until we got to Bill’s (formerly the Barbary Coast). We were standing outside talking when I got the feeling to call Ashleigh and Peter, neither of them answered. But then Ashleigh called back and said something about Peter being on the ground, but I could barely hear what she was saying. So I ran inside Bill’s and to the restroom where it was a lot quieter and called her back. My brother was outside Margaritaville on the ground. I rushed out the restroom, where Heather was actually coming in to find me, and we ended up ditching Todd and running back to Margaritaville. Let me note that I felt bad about us running since Heather was wearing boots with heels.

We get back and I see my brother lacing face down at the top of the stairs going into the bar. He was responsive but barely, and it was hard to tell if he was breathing. We were trying to get him up, and we had no cab money and I couldn’t call my mom to come get us because the car was at my cousin’s hotel. I called Ryan crying because I didn’t know who else might be awake at that hour with a car, but he was sleeping or half asleep or what the fuck ever. It was at this time I realised I didn’t have anyone here I could call in moments like that, I always had that in California. It was also the first time I thought of calling my dad, I don’t even have his number but at that moment I wish I had because I know that he unfortunately lives here too, but he would have came to get us. It’s kind of sad when the person you despise most would be your only option. The cops ended up coming, I’m assuming because the bar called them. They were about to arrest Ashleigh due to her dramatics, and even had to walk her down the stairs. They told me to stay back too, and it was really difficult for me to listen because he’s my brother, but I did because I understood that they were just trying to help him. I called my mom, who then wanted to talk to the police and so they did. I don’t know how many different people used my phone Saturday night, someone remind me to wipe it off with alcohol or cleaning solution. The cops called the paramedics, and they came. I called my mom again, and she wanted to talk to them as well. My brother doesn’t have insurance since he is currently unemployed, she told them to take him to whichever hospital would take him. I told them Spring Valley because I figured it would be the closest to my house so that might be a good idea, granted I’m never in situations like this so what the fuck do I know. Either way, the bill for it isn’t going to be too pretty. They kept asking me if he was allergic to alcohol, even though I kept telling them that I didn’t know. He started vomitting, and they finally got him to stand up and walked him down the stairs because he couldn’t do it on his own. That was really hard to watch. Ashleigh insisted on going in the ambulance with him, which is something I am still mad about because while I understand that he is the closest thing she has to a big brother, he IS my brother. She was also drunk and underage, so it wasn’t the brightest thing on her part.

I don’t know much about what happened with him after that. I think I called Ryan crying again. I had been under the impression that my mom was coming to pick up Heather and I, so we started walking south on the strip to somewhere my mom would be a little more familiar with once she took a cab to my cousin’s hotel and got my brother’s car. About an hour later, I was told my mom was just going straight to the hospital, so we just kept walking and walking. Even though it was freezing and in the wee hours of the morning, walking calmed me down even though I was scared shitless about my brother. I called my mom once and she started yelling at me, so I hung up on her because I really didn’t need that right then. We ended up walking to the MGM with some dude from Orange County, who claimed he was gay and then we found out he was lying. When we got to MGM, we sat down and Heather spent her last three dollars in machines to try to win us cab money, but that didn’t go as planned. She then called her sister back at their room, and asked them to come get us because I had run out of options of who I could call, so we walked over to the Tropicana because I figured it would be the easiest hotel to get in and out of car wise. Yes, we walked from Flamingo all the way to Tropicana.

They then took me to the hospital, even though Ashleigh called and told me to just go home. I was like “Yeah, no”. She had already pissed me off going with him, she wasn’t about to tell me to go home. I got there about 5am, shortly before I made my last post. He had already been there two hours. Only one person is supposed to be in the room, but the three of us were in there anyway. I sat freezing in a chair, dozing off a few times. Ashleigh fell asleep. My mom was taking it better than I thought she would. They discharged him around 8am and we went home. I had been up for 24 hours and ended up sleeping for god knows how long.

And that was my Saturday.

Being in an emergency room right now (due to my brother passing out drunk in front of Margaritaville) reminds me of the morning that my grandmother passed. I will never forget the way the monitors went up and down several times before it went further down and she was gone.

I hate being on the strip on a Saturday night.

Vegetable soup, Lady Grey tea and an orange is clearly a dinner of champions. Except the peeling of the orange has left the skin underneath the nail on my thumb burning. Not fun. My eyes have been hurting all day. It might not help that I didn’t get to sleep until a little before 5am when I had work 10am. I woke up at like 8:30am, fell back to sleep until 9am, woke up again feeling like shit. I rushed to get ready, took a shot of Dayquil and ran out the door thinking there was no way in hell that I would make it in time, but somehow I did. The Dayquil had me feeling really really weird. Like I kept singing to myself at work under my breath. It was mostly Coconut Records songs. Work was full of it’s usual bullshit. Much like last year, I am disgusted by Target’s focus on only Christmas, when uh there’s other religious holidays coming up. This is coming from a non-practicing Catholic, too. Ashleigh (my cousin) and her friends are on their way. They were just getting on the 605 from the 91 at 6:30pm, at 7:15pm she texts me that there was a big accident on the freeway. It’s Friday night and she’s coming to Vegas from California, that’s typical. I’m excited to see her since I haven’t in awhile and she probably my favourite relative. It still bugs me she has a fake I’D (she’s only 20). I need to pick up my room before they get here and try to get some sleep. I’m grateful to have Sunday off.

The other day I found out that Marit Larsen released a new album last month (oops!), and I seriously love it. She can do no wrong. While Marion was the hotter half of M2M, her songs lack any depth. I will admit that her stuff is addictive, but Marit was/is definitely the more talented one out of the two.

P.S. Happy birthday, Logan!