But when I do, there is usually alcohol involved.
Lots of alcohol.
So, here I am.
You know when you are out with some friends and one of them has too much to drink and starts hugging everyone and trying to strip tease on the nearest table and you seriously consider ditching her ass?
Yeah, I don’t want to be that girl. And as I’ve gotten older, I’ve tried to perfect, if you will, my drinking. Typically I do so by not getting shit faced to begin with. I find that nice little having-fun-buzzed place and hang out there. But occasionally I have just a glass or two more than that and hit drunk.
But usually, even when I am drunk, I tend to try as hard as I possibly can to watch what I say and walk slowly and of course, never ever ever drive. I like to think that I handle it all pretty well.
But how do you know?
I mean, really, when you have random memories popping up 24 and 48 and 72 hours later? I didn’t remember these things happening until days after they happened, so who’s to say that I didn’t do something absolutely humiliating?
The first thing I usually do when I start to second guess my behavior is try to remember how effed up the people I was with were. Because if they were shit faced too, then it’s all good. But lets think about this rationally: If I am three sheets to the wind, how in the hell am I going to remember if the other person/people I was with stopped drinking early on and left me hanging out in the wind? That of course presents the worse case scenario, I was drunk and stupid and they were sober enough to remember it.
I also try to gauge exactly how idiotic I was by the next-day reactions. Are there jokes being made at my expense? Am I getting random eyebrow raises or sideways glances? If I make a seemingly innocent comment, does someone snicker?
So why am I torturing you all with this useless post?
Well for starters, I got pretty drunk on Friday. On Saturday when I was in hangover mode, the person I had been hanging with the night before didn’t say anything too nuts about my behavior. Just the one “you were wasted” comment.
Which, lets be honest, is pretty bad all by itself.
Lets add that up with a couple of my “flashbacks” that have popped up over the last few days:
I swing danced. And people, I can’t swing dance.
So there was falling.
I think just once.
In my defense, I was spun around a few times.
I remember some hand holding which in the grand scheme of drunken idiocy isn’t that bad. The bad part is that I can’t remember if it was me being a pushy chic and making him hold my hand or if it was just one of those stupid no big deal things.
There are a couple of things I definitely did not do.
I did not have sex. I know this because I haven’t had sex in almost a year and I would god damn remember if I had.
That and I do remember passing smooth out.
Probably because I was thinking about having sex before I passed out and I remember that I didn’t make it and I was a little pissed. Not that sex was even on the table, but those little details matter not when you’ve consumed an entire bottle of wine.
I did not get naked. I’m not one of those chics who gets all shit faced and then tries stripping down to my bra. It’s just not my thing. I have been known to skinny dip on occasion but I don’t usually lose all my clothes for no reason.
I did not declare my love for anyone. I seem to be much more inclined to do that when I am not around the person. I am too chicken shit to do it in person apparently. But on the phone at 2:30 in the morning? Yeah, that is when I am all about making those declarations.
So all and all, nothing too horrible. We hung out the next day (before a couple of those realizations hit me) and everything was fine. And we’ve spoken and emailed since with normalcy.
I am just feeling like a dumb ass. And since this is my blog and I know all of you love me unconditionally, I thought I’d share. Plus, I am rusty and needed to blog something :)
Labels: Being a Chic, Being Retarded, I'm a loser, my crazy life, My pathetic excuse for a love life, self loathing
