Alcohol and Me: a short story of love and drunkity-drunk-drunk
So here's St. Patty's day and me, the semi-alcoholic, does not have a drink in her hand? I should fix that.
Beer. And it's German. Meh, at least it comes in a green bottle. I love me some Grey Goose appletinis these days, but the way I mix them they're not so much green. They look like someone took a couple drops of green food coloring and shook them up in a two liter bottle of water. That's a good appletini. Also, German beer > Guinness.
I think it's a fair estimate that one-twentieth of my life is a blur because of alcohol. It's not that I black out and do stuff that I don't remember -- I've only had a couple incidents of that, which I never care to repeat, thankyouverymuch. I'll drink enough to the point where the next day I remember what I've done, it just kind of runs together in one big smear of drunken revelry. Maybe not so much revelry, as much of it is by myself. Drunken numbness? Yeah, I have become comfortably numb, to quote someone far more profound than I could ever be.
My mom fixed me a drink on my eighteenth birthday because I'd never had one before. I was a good kid and had -- I shit you not -- never had more than a beer. Probably not even a whole beer. Given my proclivities these days, this is somewhat shocking. So she sets down this Rum and Coke in front of my and I take a sip...and I hate it. It turns out I'm not fond of rum. At all. I went through a phase of dark rum on the rocks a couple years ago, and I'm still not sure how the hell I managed that. Might've been the post-relationship depression (since I thought I'd found The Mythical One, and then she stopped calling). I think rum tastes like fingernail polish remover. In a word: nasty.
So she fixed me something else. Must have been much better because I don't remember what it was. She wanted me to get drunk at least once before I went to college, so I did. And then I went to college. I still remember the night of my first party. It was the end of Early Week (read: Band Camp) and I was introduced to the fact that band kids know how to party. We were waiting for the campus bus and Clint Morrow drove by in his tiny-ass car and somehow managed to cram like six tuba players into this little two-door. We got to 624 (a Kappa Kappa Psi apartment) and I don't remember much else because every night at 624 runs together in one joyous outburst of beer and Honi and Dutchman and don't eat the fru--EAT THE FRUIT!
If you are unaware, fruit that's been soaking in grain alcohol for a couple days is wicked strong. If you eat enough of it you really won't remember the next day and my responsible self is probably the one holding your hair while you heave your guts out into the toilet. The trick is to frontload it; eat a few pieces at the beginning when you can grimace away the taste. The taste is what keeps you from eating too much. Fruit at the start will get your drunk on, but fruit near the end will make you revisit all the alcohol you drank that night in the most unpleasant manner possible.
College is just a blur to me now. Four wasted years with good people and more drama than I care to remember. One of these days I'll go back to a sorority meeting and sit in the back. Maybe I'll snicker a lot and proclaim how I truly am old and bitter now instead of just feeling like it. Life after college is...real. And painful. And wonderful. I love life so much it hurts some times.
I got depressed and dropped out. Or maybe I just thought I was depressed. I don't know. I want to go back and give myself a severe talking-to, but then again if I hadn't dropped out I wouldn't be here now and having a great time at being a grown up. I have no idea where I'd be if I stayed, but I wouldn't be here and I like it here.
I did a lot of things in the mean time. Like drink. I worked and did some stuff and got ready to join the Army. And I drank. Couldn't get myself in any other kind of altered state, but I could drink. Being of legal drinking age is so convenient.
I was sober for all of Basic Training of course. I'm many things but I'm not stupid, and basic is too exhausting to even think of doing anything outside the rules. The first few months of AIT I did nothing but drink on the weekends. It was like college all over, only with some restraint during the weekdays. Then they gave me some responsibility and wham, bam, I start doing a bunch of extra work. Maybe I'll get around to finishing/editing my AIT portion of the "Story of my Life" one of these days. Point is, I still drank, but not that often. And when I did it was either drink very heavily or drink and get bored and go back to the barracks and beg for some work to do. Pathetic, no?
So here I am now, drinking at what I consider a casual rate. I usually have at least one drink a night, weekends definitely more. According to the Army safety briefings on alcohol I'm an alcoholic and a binge drinker, since I consume more than five drinks in one night more than once a month. And I'm a girl? Wooooboy! I'm just ripping through my liver like there's no tomorrow.
Or so the Army says anyway.
And that's my love affair with alcohol.
I have somehow started work on two fanmixes and am contemplating signing up for what could be the last Multiverse Crossover Challenge. Plus this is entry three in less than a week? Oh yeah, I'm so totally back...and LJ promptly explodes from too much SUP.
Beer. And it's German. Meh, at least it comes in a green bottle. I love me some Grey Goose appletinis these days, but the way I mix them they're not so much green. They look like someone took a couple drops of green food coloring and shook them up in a two liter bottle of water. That's a good appletini. Also, German beer > Guinness.
I think it's a fair estimate that one-twentieth of my life is a blur because of alcohol. It's not that I black out and do stuff that I don't remember -- I've only had a couple incidents of that, which I never care to repeat, thankyouverymuch. I'll drink enough to the point where the next day I remember what I've done, it just kind of runs together in one big smear of drunken revelry. Maybe not so much revelry, as much of it is by myself. Drunken numbness? Yeah, I have become comfortably numb, to quote someone far more profound than I could ever be.
My mom fixed me a drink on my eighteenth birthday because I'd never had one before. I was a good kid and had -- I shit you not -- never had more than a beer. Probably not even a whole beer. Given my proclivities these days, this is somewhat shocking. So she sets down this Rum and Coke in front of my and I take a sip...and I hate it. It turns out I'm not fond of rum. At all. I went through a phase of dark rum on the rocks a couple years ago, and I'm still not sure how the hell I managed that. Might've been the post-relationship depression (since I thought I'd found The Mythical One, and then she stopped calling). I think rum tastes like fingernail polish remover. In a word: nasty.
So she fixed me something else. Must have been much better because I don't remember what it was. She wanted me to get drunk at least once before I went to college, so I did. And then I went to college. I still remember the night of my first party. It was the end of Early Week (read: Band Camp) and I was introduced to the fact that band kids know how to party. We were waiting for the campus bus and Clint Morrow drove by in his tiny-ass car and somehow managed to cram like six tuba players into this little two-door. We got to 624 (a Kappa Kappa Psi apartment) and I don't remember much else because every night at 624 runs together in one joyous outburst of beer and Honi and Dutchman and don't eat the fru--EAT THE FRUIT!
If you are unaware, fruit that's been soaking in grain alcohol for a couple days is wicked strong. If you eat enough of it you really won't remember the next day and my responsible self is probably the one holding your hair while you heave your guts out into the toilet. The trick is to frontload it; eat a few pieces at the beginning when you can grimace away the taste. The taste is what keeps you from eating too much. Fruit at the start will get your drunk on, but fruit near the end will make you revisit all the alcohol you drank that night in the most unpleasant manner possible.
College is just a blur to me now. Four wasted years with good people and more drama than I care to remember. One of these days I'll go back to a sorority meeting and sit in the back. Maybe I'll snicker a lot and proclaim how I truly am old and bitter now instead of just feeling like it. Life after college is...real. And painful. And wonderful. I love life so much it hurts some times.
I got depressed and dropped out. Or maybe I just thought I was depressed. I don't know. I want to go back and give myself a severe talking-to, but then again if I hadn't dropped out I wouldn't be here now and having a great time at being a grown up. I have no idea where I'd be if I stayed, but I wouldn't be here and I like it here.
I did a lot of things in the mean time. Like drink. I worked and did some stuff and got ready to join the Army. And I drank. Couldn't get myself in any other kind of altered state, but I could drink. Being of legal drinking age is so convenient.
I was sober for all of Basic Training of course. I'm many things but I'm not stupid, and basic is too exhausting to even think of doing anything outside the rules. The first few months of AIT I did nothing but drink on the weekends. It was like college all over, only with some restraint during the weekdays. Then they gave me some responsibility and wham, bam, I start doing a bunch of extra work. Maybe I'll get around to finishing/editing my AIT portion of the "Story of my Life" one of these days. Point is, I still drank, but not that often. And when I did it was either drink very heavily or drink and get bored and go back to the barracks and beg for some work to do. Pathetic, no?
So here I am now, drinking at what I consider a casual rate. I usually have at least one drink a night, weekends definitely more. According to the Army safety briefings on alcohol I'm an alcoholic and a binge drinker, since I consume more than five drinks in one night more than once a month. And I'm a girl? Wooooboy! I'm just ripping through my liver like there's no tomorrow.
Or so the Army says anyway.
And that's my love affair with alcohol.
I have somehow started work on two fanmixes and am contemplating signing up for what could be the last Multiverse Crossover Challenge. Plus this is entry three in less than a week? Oh yeah, I'm so totally back...and LJ promptly explodes from too much SUP.