Everyone knows that there's a cycle of emotions when going out on a Saturday night, and your initial goal is to drink a little (Pepsi), dance a little, and laugh a lot. Sometimes the party rocks and all goals are met (maybe you even talk to a cute dude...) and you go home (safely, of course) satisfied and pretty drunk (off Pepsi).

The next morning, though, is a completely different article for a different day.

Stage 1: Preparing for the night ahead.

This stage is the easiest for dudes. The dude routine consists of 5 minute shower, deodorant, cologne, throw on a pretty boy polo, and apply some gel or mousse in their hair and BAM, they're ready.

Ladies, on the other hand, don't have a simple routine. We've got to blow dry our hair and curl/straighten it, deodorant, perfume, lotion, bake the face, snatch our liner, fleek our brows, and give ourselves kissable lips (extra points to girls who throw on some self tanner, too, you the real MVP). And don't even ask how many times we change our outfits...

Stage 2: Leaving to meet up with the squad.

The best feeling in the world is seeing your friends and giving them that look that says "You ready to get turnt?" and then you squeeze 11 people in a 7-seater car.

You have to appreciate your squad for coming out with you and being sketchy AF every Saturday night, because deep down you know that if it weren't for them, you'd be drinking wine (or pop) alone in your dorm room watching Grey's Anatomy.

Stage 3: Texting everyone in your phone for an address.

It's basically the Hunger Games when you get ready to go out without any clue if there's anything even going on that night. I see people walking through alleyways and internally I say, "May the Odds Be Ever in your Favor." Because gurl, I need this face of makeup to be put to use, too.

When someone finally gets an address and the car zooms towards 5th Street- you know it's about to get lit.

Stage 4: Walking into the party and it's already lit.

You know the party is good when you walk in, there's people dancing on the tables and everyone is singing the lyrics to the popular rap song of the week. You make eye contact with a girl from your class and you wave and scream "HEYYY!" over a crowd of people. That's when you know you've struck gold.

Stage 5: Feeling slightly claustrophobic, but embracing it.

You gotta admit that sometimes, parties are just waaay too crowded. I get used to it after awhile, but at first, it's a lot to take in. You start to doubt whether you stay or not, and if you'll ever find someone in this crowd that you recognize.

Eventually, you start talking to someone and you find a nice spot in a corner and you dance until your cares melt away...

Stage 6: Realizing it's time to leave.

It's about 1:30 a.m. and you're getting pretty tired and hungry. Honestly, you can't think about much else.

Stage 7: Food.

Whether it be nachos, McDonald's, or hot Cheetos - you'll be craving food and you'll definitely eat too much.

Hello, extra 5 pounds, we meet again.

Stage 8 (finally): Passing DF out.

That last bite of food enters your belly and you instantaneously fall asleep with half a cheeseburger sitting on your belly and your jeans still on.

The good life.

(Disclaimer: I do not encourage underage drinking whatsoever and the next day is almost never worth the party the night before, so just to put this out there.)