Easter Mayhem

Yesterday, as most of you know, was Easter. A day of rejoicing and a lot of eating, and, well, Easter Egg Hunts.

The rest of the orphans and myself all gaggled together to have our own Easter celebration. But, apparently, it's just not possible for us to get together as a group and partake in good clean fun. I'm not saying that it's dirty, I'm just saying that the Pope may not exactly have approved.

Steph invited about 20 or so of us over to her house for a feast. Apparently, as the token Catholic, I was asked to plan the drunken Easter egg hunt. Coolio. No problem. 100 plastic eggs, some candy, naked men playing cards and condoms later we had our hunt.

The hunt took place in the shared courtyard of Steph's apartment complex. Luckily, her management company hadn't mowed the lawn in what seemed to be months, so really all I had to do was stand in one place and chuck the eggs to "hide" them. When the "kids" were released it was absolute mayhem. I have never in my life seen a bunch of 20 and 30-somethings run around desperately hunting for plastic eggs - now I have.

When they were finished collecting the hidden eggs, I split them into two teams and that is when the drinking (and stripping) began. Each team had to put their naked men playing cards together and give me the best hand of 7. The losing team, in consequence, had to chug a pitcher of beer. That was interesting as the pitcher was too big to fit in anyone's mouth adequately, so the whole team proceeded to drench themselves in beer. The two people who found the two golden eggs were then asked politely to do a team shot of tequila. Unfortunately for the beer pitcher team, they also had a golden egg. Finally, the "crazy" eggs as we called them (eggs with drawings on them) were the strip eggs. Each person who collected the "crazy" eggs had to remove an article of clothing per crazy egg. Let's just say this: I saw a man in his grey "tighty whiteys" that I could have lived without seeing. But it was hysterical nonetheless.

I know what you're thinking. "Rachel, that is the most sacrilegious thing I've ever heard. I'm disgusted." But, really, the meaning behind holidays is not the events that you partake in, but the people you spend them with and with the exception of my own family, I wouldn't have wanted to spend the holiday with anyone but this clan of hairdos.

Although, I think I'm becoming a tad predictable, because when I called my grandparents house, where my immediate family was celebrating, my grandmother asked, "Are you drunk yet?" Lovely.