But it was drunk on wine, so it was way classier than just being regular drunk

One thing I enjoyed most about my trip to Israel was the wine.

Each night, after we'd spent ten or more hours out touring through various holy places, we would return to whatever hotel it was that we were staying at and open up a bottle of wine. We sampled Israeli wines of all different price points - sometimes two and three times, just to be sure our initial assessments were correct. You'd be surprised how much wine church ladies can throw back. I know I was.

My first night there, my roommate asked me if I was going to join everyone out on the patio for drinks. "I went to the corner store and picked up some gin and mix. It's going to be lots of fun," she said.

"I think I will have to pass," I told her. "I am awfully tired. It has been such a long day." The next day, the other people on the trip mocked me.

"You are the youngest person on this trip. You are rooming with the oldest person on this trip. You went to bed at 9 pm. What time did she go to bed at?" They asked.

"I do not know," I replied. "I was asleep by the time she got back," I said shamefully.

I decided that this was the last time I would let those church-goers shame me for my teetotaling, and so I spent the next nine evenings drunk. It's what Jesus would have wanted. I am sure of it.


Which probably indicates the super should be cleaning more often than she does...

I see remnants of my underwear nearly every where I go, which is really just to my apartment building or work.

The hazard of sequined underwear, I have learned, is that the sequins do not stay attached to the underwear, no matter how hard you will it to be so. The secret thrill I got over owning such remarkable underwear quickly waned as I realized I left a magical trail in my wake.

"Megan! You're wearing your sequined underwear again!" the cleaner at work once shouted at me.

"I am not. Today was just an arts and crafts day in day program. They were working with glitter," I cried in defense. After finding the first sequin in my office, it was probably a bad idea to start laughing and telling all my coworkers where its point of origins was.

It has been months since I've worn my sparkly underpants (I have ten pairs...), and yet, when I walk up the stairs of my apartment building each day, I am greeted by the sight of sequins.

Bitter sweet.