by Alyssa Ramos
If St. Patty’s Day weekend didn’t rock us all enough, the earthquake last night sure as hell did. In most cities, St. Patrick’s Day festivities consist of going to bars, drinking beers, and taking pictures in your green attire, but in Hollywood, we feel the need to obnoxiously glam it up a bit…as we do for any possible holiday that we can.
Seeing that it was 82 degrees and gorgeous outside on Saturday, we decided to have a pre-pool party before the actual St. Patty’s Day block party at Rock N Riley’s on Sunset Boulevard that was going on all day. I don’t know why we always think it’s a great idea to pre-drink for a debauchery event, but it happens inevitably.
When we finally pried ourselves away from the wine bottles, Maui Babe, and selfies, we decided to shove 6 people in an Uber and head to the party. But when we got there, the unthinkable happened! I realized that the free tickets I had gotten for the event were for the General Admission area only!!! Unlike most block parties that have only one main area, our block parties typically have a VIP area that takes up about 1/3 of the entire event space and offers bottle service and high-end Port-a-Potties. You’ll see all of the typical LA Scenesters that are are always in VIP along with a C or D-list celeb here and there, and some creepy older foreign dudes that think they’re buying bottles at a nightclub or something.
Yes, I know how pretentious and obnoxious this sounds, but at least I’m honest.
Anyway so bottle service and socialization for five hours, woooo, we were all blacked out by 8pm. Then the even more unthinkable happened…it got dark! Naturally everyone started freaking out and dispersing at the sudden ten degree drop in temperature and plans for after parties at houses in the hills began fluttering about. My plan was to go home and eat pizza, which I accomplished effortlessly and proceeded to pass out at 11pm.
But of course since I feel the need to use my apartment as a gypsy hotel, and had four different people’s luggage there including my younger cousin’s who was sleeping on the couch, I didn’t get to sleep through the night. Nope. I got loud banging on my door at 4am. My new roommate came out of her room in sheer terror, thinking it was a burglar, I came out in raging anger thinking it was the annoyingest of the four gypsies, and my cousin laughed at our opposing thoughts. I swung open the door ready to knock him out for disrupting my sleep, when I realized it was the gypsy visiting from the Army who I thought I had lost at the block party. He flinched and said, “I brought cookies!” as if that were a legitimate barter for waking us all up. He’s lucky he looked like one of the guys in Cosmo sleeping on my couch or bad things would have happened. I’m stronger than I look.
The next day the girls and I went to the beach for a little St. Patty’s Day rehab in Venice Beach, but of course ended up having a typical Sunday Funday and were back home wasted at 8pm again with pizza. Right when I thought my weekend of body-torture was over I was brutally shaken awake by what I thought was someone yet again trying to break in, but in a nightmarish sort of way — my bedroom door shook which was terrifying since it was like an aggressive person trying to get in, but then when I sat up and realized that I was also shaking along with my headboard, and not having sex, that it must be an :gasp: EARTHQUAKE!!!
I grabbed my animals, cellphone, and laptop and ran into the living room as if the world was ending and so did my roommate, while my cousin groaned and covered her head with a pillow, less than amused by the terrifying incident. I immediately checked Facebook at 6:30am, and verified by all of the “Earthquake!!!” comments that it was in fact an earthquake, and added my two cents to the feed. (Voiceover: “In the event of an earthquake, please instantly notify everyone on Facebook). Nothing like ending the biggest drinking holiday weekend with the biggest earthquake to hit LA in two decades…dramatically speaking but totally serious.
Disclaimer: Don’t drink and drive. Take an uber or walk your happy ass home.
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