on getting drunk

i have never gotten drunk in my entire twenty-six years of existence. the farthest i'd get is a splitting headache and a red face. no alcohol-induced giggling fits or unintelligible monologues. getting drunk doesn't really appeal to me. (aside from the fact that it's unbiblical.)

so, if you saw me last night, nursing a scotch glass containing a mudslide, (that's baileys + kahlua + vodka to you!) you'd think something is really wrong. and in a way, it was.

for some absurd reason i was depressed as hell in the past two days. i blame the hormones. but i could really just be manic-depressive, and the hormones simply aggravated my saturnine disposition. whatever. the bottom line is, i got so depressed, i wanted to get drunk. that is a shocking first for me. and if that weren't enough, the desire for a hard drink came in the middle of a sunny day. yeah, just pull out all the stops, why don't you.

unfortunately, i had to wait until the evening to get my liquor. but i got it within ten minutes of sitting down at the restaurant. (my best bud was treating us on his birthday. almost wasn't able to go, which is part of the reason of depressive fit.) when the drink came, i sipped half of it. then got a splitting headache. can you spell L-O-S-E-R???

i waited until the headache subsided before downing the rest of my drink. no unfavorable reactions after that. but no emotional high either.

so, on the day i first felt the urge to get drunk, i had to wait eight hours to get a drink. and when i got my drink, i didn't get drunk.

whatalife.