On the Subject of Drinking

Daibouken. It finally happened yesterday. It was pretty awesome when I realized everyone in the group was actually working together and towards a common goal during the concert. And then it all ended.

And then there was the afterparty.

I drank close to ten shots of a mishmash of vodka and rum, realizing only about an hour and a half into it that I had too much. My body sucks at reacting to alcohol. Self-preservation FAIL.

Anyway, I somehow managed to ride my bike home, swaying right to left on the wet tarmac, climb up the stairs to the shower, give a sleeping roommate a warm drunken hug, climb back down the stairs, and plop into bed.

Some reoccurring thoughts during this period of time:

1. "I'M THIRSTY"

2. "I FEEL DEHYDRATED"

3. "I SUCK AT BALANCING"

4. "YOGA"

5. "I HATE THIS FEELING"

6. *grunt* (Mentally)

7. "DRUNKEN FIST"

8. "I HATE MYSELF"

Why yes, my thoughts do, in fact, all occur in CAPITAL letters.

Any half-proficient kindergartener can tell you that there's a pattern here: "This intrinsically depressed male subject lacks an innate sense of equilibrium. He likes to do yoga and drunken fist. He also definitely needs some water. Or orange juice." Okay, that's definitely not what I'm trying to get at here. It was more like: "THIS SUCKS"

So, next time, don't drink more than 5 shots; it might feel okay in the first hour or two, but after that, you'll be on your own, buddy.

Interesting observation: the feeling that intaking more than 3tbsp of oil at a time (on its own) leaves in my stomach feels similar to alcohol, which your body recognizes as a toxin. Hmm. Maybe I'm more of a carb-profile in terms of diet?