The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

It’s Christmas Eve and I’m hungover.

Christmas Eve-Eve strikes again!

It’s my favorite non-holiday of the year. I always spend it with my best friend that I’ve known since pre-school.

Oddly enough, it’s usually been a night where something major has happened in one of our lives. Whether good or bad. One year it was a sprained ankle. One year it was a party with friends that ended in a sleepover.

This year, being the first one that we were both old enough to legally drink, we made it a big one.

We got a hotel room in Atlantic City and destroyed our livers a little more.

So, today, while I do my family celebrations, I will also be nursing this extraordinary Christmas Eve-Eve Illness. It’s only proof that I had an awesome night with my best friend.


To the Fan Who Wants to Know About My Hangover~


How was your birthday?


Wild. My birthday lasted from Tuesday until Sunday morning and I had the wickedest hangover of my entire life all day yesterday into this glorious Monday morning.

Thanks for asking.

XO, Maz

Questions, comments, concerns, jokes? Place them in my anonymous ask box:

Minding Susan

As I sit here and write this in advance of today, I truly wonder how horrid of a hangover am I going to have?

Dear Me of the Day After My 21st~

I hope that you were well behaved last night. I’m about 94% positive that you weren’t though, let’s be real. You’re a mess most of the time, then tack on things like twenty-first and birthday and I’m sure that you were a loose cannon.

Make any apologies you need to make if you were a monster.

Have an Advil and get ready for the fact that the party isn’t actually over until Sunday. Mind Susan (Your Liver), she’s delicate and getting a lot of mileage this week.

XO, Maz of Monday, At Work, At 9 AM, Not Drunk or Hungover in the Slightest

The Hangover Heard Round the World

I don’t know if this is just a me thing, or if it happens to other people; but when I have a hangover, it doesn’t normally happen the worst until two days after the incident.

So naturally, as I sit through 5 classes today, I am between 68% and 84% positive that I am going to die.

Every few minutes I get the nausea clamminess. It’s to the point where I am just about to stand up to run to the bathroom to puke, but it subsides just before I push my chair out.

I also am pretty convinced that I have some form of concussion because my eyes are sensitive to the light, my head feels like I hit a brick wall, twice, and every time I close my eyes, the room starts to spin.

It’s not great.

But, I guess that’s the price that I pay for not serving my hangover sentence yesterday.

Why You Never Get Super Wasted At Your Own University’s Parties

Hello Fanz,

Welcome back to the hungover world of Just another Saturday morning, stumbling to a way-too-early train on my way to get to a new-old town. It’s like Europe, but way less glamourous.

Here’s the run down.

I went to a college party last night.

Not just any college party. It was a college party hosted by my peers.

Like, a campus party if you will.

And I would just like to go over some things about going to your own university party in case any one forgot:

  1. Best option: Just don’t go. Or if you do, don’t be the one dancing on tables, puking, punching walls, crying or very publicly making out with someone who has an established significant other. Especially, don’t be someone who does a combination or all of those things in one go.
  2. If you decide to go; have some drinks, but keep it low key. Mingle with friends. Don’t be the life of the party, unless you actually are the life of the party; invited and established in said title.
  3. DO NOT grab that guy on the baseball team’s ass. There are only 2,000 something people that attend your university. He’s going to remember you on the first day of class, especially when you sit next to each other in Investment Analysis, since all the hot/straight guys are business majors too.
  4. DO NOT get shut out in beer pong. You will be forced to do a naked lap around the house, so save yourself that shame. If you’re not good, don’t play.
  5. DO NOT make out with your professor’s son. Your professor will find out, somehow, and it will be reflected in your grade.
  6. DO NOT steal anything (major). A lighter or an ashtray, sure, maybe. But don’t take their cable box. That’s rude.
  7. DO NOT go home with anyone, other than who you went to the party with. Especially, do not fall into the trap of going back to freshman dorms with the freshmen RA. That’s embarrassing and one of your friends will catch you walking home in the morning.
  8. DO NOT get caught on camera doing any of the above, it will be sent out as a campus blast and you will never live it down.

Follow these simple rules and you too can live to see another beautiful day, walking around your own university campus. Don’t follow these rules, you’ll be hungover and receiving text messages for about a week, or until someone else makes an ass out of themselves.

If you really want to break the rules, just make sure that you do it on someone else’s campus.

Best of luck in your party endeavors. Keep it wild, ya filthy animals. XO, Maz

When Your Wrist Becomes A Passport

I am a big collector of stamps.

Sure, I get a couple in my Passport every once in a while. But, my favorite kinds of stamps are the ones that I get on my wrists each night.

I consider it a personal victory and an amazing night when the each stop I make, the new stamp giver makes a comment about how far I’ve travelled in one night.

Last night was no different. I collected four stamps (meh, a mediocre amount really).

The best part of this stamp collecting though? Doing it with one of my best friends and my best co-bad influence ever.

We took a trip around down town London, cruising by Uber, and made detours in some of our favorite spots. We saw an amazing concert. We had some drinks. We had some dancing and a whole bunch of laughs.

It was Brix’s last night in London, so obviously, we had to celebrate. So we stayed out until about 2.30 and then we put Brix in an Uber around 3 AM and shipped her off to the airport for her flight at 6 AM to Rome.

All in all, I just hope that although she’s going to get an Italian stamp in her passport today, she’ll also take her wrist passport with her and recall all of the fun we had this past week.

This Is So Unlike Me

Brix has arrived.

Brix is in LONDON.

I repeat. Brix is in London.

Admittedly, it was a little bit of a rocky start.

I was so overcome with joy that Brix was coming to town that I just HAD to go out and celebrate the night before. So, I went out with my co-bad influence friend, and well, had a couple of drinks.

I got home a bit later than anticipated, by only about 4 hours.

No biggie really.

But I got myself ready for bed, set my alarm and put myself to sleep.

I was so ready to wake up and pick Brix up at the airport at 8 AM.


That is…

I was so ready until I get a text at 8 22 asking when I would be there.


I turned my alarm off while I was sleeping.

I could not believe it.

I was so frantic!

The airport is nearly an hour away from where I live and I was already 22 minutes late and not wearing pants.

Crunch time.

I threw on the first piece of clothing that I saw, slapped on a little makeup and bolted out the door.

All in all, I finally got there and basically ran through the airport to jump on Brix.

So, a bit of a bumpy start, but things are right back on track and I’m currently living the London dream with Brix and I couldn’t be more excited.

PS, Brix this a public apology in a formal setting. I’m still SO sorry that I was late!