My Liver Hates Miami

Shortly after the New Year, a group of us flew out to Miami Beach for an extra long weekend, to enjoy the sun and escape the snow.

We had decided to rent an AirBnB for the trip so that all of us could stay together. Initially, the thought was that we would have a bit more room, while saving money at the same time. After the fact, I realized that the beach house was the perfect choice for other reasons. By staying in the beach house all together, we were able to have all the girls get ready together for evening outings, lounge around whilst having our own privacy, and cook meals that were eaten family style, We weren't bound to eating out for every meal and only being able to converse with the few individuals we happened to sit next to.

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The boys started the trip off by cooking us some tasty Lo Mein under the supervision of Chef Corey (note that he is the only one in the photo above drinking and not actually cooking).

From there, over the span of five days and four nights, we distributed our time between the sunny beaches, historic Little Havana, and of course: Miami's world-famous nightlife.

We even saw our boy Drake out and about in Miami.

Security yelled at us on multiple occasions as we attempted to grab a picture of Champagne Papi in the flesh. He stood around looking bored all night and we weren't able to get close enough for a clear picture. However, the video below is pure gold. And no, security did not successfully grab the phone away from us.

Even though none of us met Drake, someone still ended up in tear (re: not tears of joy). I won't mention any names, but tears ensued when one of our midly inebriated female friends was told by one of our male friends that he'd gone up to Drake and met him. Said mildly inebriated female friend was too inebriated to understand that the said male friend was joking. 

Large amounts of tears ensued.

Other than the small (kind of funny) bump in the road, we enjoyed all that Miami had to offer—all while finding an impressive number of ways to damage our livers:

  • Drinking to wake ourselves up
  • Drinking while cooking
  • Drinking at brunch
  • Drinking at the beach
  • Drinking as we put our make up on together in front of two tiny ass mirrors
    (note: this is nowhere near enough mirrors for seven women in one house)
  • Drinking to pregame the clubs
  • Drinking at the club
  • Drinking to post-game the clubs

Basically, our livers hated us by the time we all left Miami.

Photograph proof of said liver damage is below.

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