I turned 28 on Friday yet I still drink like I’m a freshman in college. This means that not only is my tolerance for alcohol embarrassingly low but by the end of the evening I can’t seem to retain important pieces of information. Like my address.

Fortunately, I wasn’t the only resident of Black Out City on Friday. I got texts and voicemails the next day saying “What happened last night?” I felt like we were characters in Rashomon, trying to construct a cohesive narrative out of conflicting stories. All I remember is that we were partying in Korea town–the bastion of grilled meat, karaoke, and tapered jeans.

We started off the evening at my favorite Korean bbq restaurant in K-town. Diners in our vicinity asked to be moved to another area. I didn’t think we were being that rowdy. Maybe it’s because we started group singing Mariah Carey’s “Emotions” or Cece Peniston’s “Finally.” I guess diners don’t have a high tolerance for early nineties songs anymore.

I also don’t think it helped that we went through about a hundred bottles of soju. For those of you who have never had it, soju is a clear Korean liquor that tastes kinda like watered down vodka. So you keep drinking it because it doesn’t taste like anything and then before you know it you are sitting in a corner and convincing yourself that god will make the room stop spinning.

Anyhoo, then we went to a BYO Karaoke bar and this is where things head to “did i just get roofied?” territory. My new roommate LT made me a Sparks and Vodka combo. After chugging that I decided that drinking room temperature champagne was a good idea. Then I couldn’t distinguish between all the plastic cups on the table and just started drinking out of all of them. I hope I don’t get a staph infection.

The next morning I woke up and there was a trail of clothes on the floor. I performed my Saturday morning ritual where I go through my purse and make sure I still have all my belongings. Phone? Check. Debit card? Check. Expired driver’s license? Check. Camera? Uh oh. Camera???

Fortunately, my friend Sabbie had my camera. I think she was the only relatively sober person that evening and stayed till the end like a true karaoke queen.

LT and I tried to figure out how the night ended. I said, “I feel like someone sang Rihanna’s Umbrella.” She turned to me and said, “Um, yeah, that was you.” Ohhh right. I think I also sang Bohemian Rhapsody and Journey’s Don’t Stop Believing.

All in all, it was the most memorable birthday ever. I just wish I could remember more of it. And I learned that if you want an awesome birthday then all you need are good friends, grilled meat, watered down alcohol, and a microphone.

So thanks guys for helping me kick in 28 with random bruises on my legs and a headache. Now those are true friends.