No, this is not a movie review. I didn't like the movie and apparently I'm in a small minority, so I'll leave it alone. This is my story about drunken stupors and the morning after.
I don't know when it started. I honestly can't remember, but it might one day be my demise. I do not get hangovers? Sure I wake up wishing there were more sleep hours, but honestly, I never wake up with the pounding headache, the fear of light and the horrible sensation that the smell of alcohol will make me re-enact the pie eating scene from Stand By Me. There are times when I open my wallet the next day and wonder. What happened? There are times I find food in my bathtub or my clothing on top of my computer. I've woken up with a chicken cutlet in my hand with one perfect bite taken out. I've woken up in the bathtub with the shower on. I've woken up in my car (after my brother's wedding). I've even woken up in somebodies bed and not been 100% sure whose it was when I first got up. All these instances have been a subtle reminder that sometimes moderation is like a trigonometry equation, but I never have the typical hangover.
When I was younger I was a puker. Almost every night I drank I got sick. This was usually because I only did so on the weekends and tried to fit as much partying into three or four hours and paid the price. Back then. Hangovers! As I got older I started to have a strange ability to stay alert and keep my wits about me, despite some marathons at the bar. Going on vacation, I could go all day and then do it again. Sure age has started to slow me down. I need rests everyone once in a while. I also think my insomnia plays a big part in that. It's not like I am trying to win an award for alcoholism, but I've gotten to the point where I can drink pretty much anything all day and night and show up for work bright eyed and bushy-tailed. Sure there are occurrences when a three day bender meets up with a serious bought of sleeplessness, but for the most part, I'm good.
Now I'm not boasting. This really isn't something to be proud of. I'm not in college, so nobody really cares about my drinking prowess, but me. I'm proud of it, because it keeps me from having the tell-tale sign of a disease. Although I do fear, down the road, some others may occur due to this. Yes I am aware that being able to drink large quantities of alcohol doesn't mean you must do so whenever possible. I'm not that silly. I know when my body says "hold it now." I have even been known to call it a night prematurely, when I'm feeling the effects more than normal. I've also been known to stay out four hours too long. I'm not giving myself a proverbial pat on the back. Honestly.
This blog is actually a question. I know the answer, so it is a rhetorical question, in some ways, but it does make me wonder. Why would anyone spend an evening drinking when they know the repercussions will be painful and ruin the next day? I have told many friends and acquaintances that if I ever felt the way they explained the following day, I would give up drinking forever. I'm not kidding. I hate the act of vomiting more than any feeling I've ever had. The thought of doing that once a month, once a week even, scares me to death. When I was younger I persisted because it was cool to drink. Now on the rare occasion this happens, I go into hermit mode. I can count the number of times I've drank myself sick in the past ten years on one hand (with maybe a few extra digits, but the occurrences are few and far between). The last time this happened I wanted to die. I actually made myself sick, because of how awful I felt and that was the hardest thing I ever did. Obviously, it makes you feel better, but the act is so painful to me, I can't bare it. That coupled with what my memory perceives as a blinding headache? Why would anyone do anything that causes this? I honestly can't comprehend. There are few evenings I've ever had that are worth a completely lost day with the addition of pain and suffering.
Do I like to socialize over cocktails? Absolutely. Do I have plans to stop? Absolutely not. If I knew that every following day would result in pain, aches and a feeling of nausea would I continue? Never.
When I watched the movie the Hangover, they took a somewhat comical look at the results of a drunken evening. There was pain as a result of the festivities. I've never woken up with a tiger in my bathroom, but I have had a cheese puff in my bathtub and couldn't find a bag of them. I've never woken up with a tooth missing, but have had a hole in the back of my shirt covered in blood. I've never lost a friend and spent the next day trying to find him. Although I have spent the next day trying to remember what friends I saw the night before. The one thing I do always do (as long as I'm able to sleep at least four hours) is function. When that day stops, I'll know it's time to pull back the reigns. Fortunately, that day hasn't arrived.
I don't know when it started. I honestly can't remember, but it might one day be my demise. I do not get hangovers? Sure I wake up wishing there were more sleep hours, but honestly, I never wake up with the pounding headache, the fear of light and the horrible sensation that the smell of alcohol will make me re-enact the pie eating scene from Stand By Me. There are times when I open my wallet the next day and wonder. What happened? There are times I find food in my bathtub or my clothing on top of my computer. I've woken up with a chicken cutlet in my hand with one perfect bite taken out. I've woken up in the bathtub with the shower on. I've woken up in my car (after my brother's wedding). I've even woken up in somebodies bed and not been 100% sure whose it was when I first got up. All these instances have been a subtle reminder that sometimes moderation is like a trigonometry equation, but I never have the typical hangover.
When I was younger I was a puker. Almost every night I drank I got sick. This was usually because I only did so on the weekends and tried to fit as much partying into three or four hours and paid the price. Back then. Hangovers! As I got older I started to have a strange ability to stay alert and keep my wits about me, despite some marathons at the bar. Going on vacation, I could go all day and then do it again. Sure age has started to slow me down. I need rests everyone once in a while. I also think my insomnia plays a big part in that. It's not like I am trying to win an award for alcoholism, but I've gotten to the point where I can drink pretty much anything all day and night and show up for work bright eyed and bushy-tailed. Sure there are occurrences when a three day bender meets up with a serious bought of sleeplessness, but for the most part, I'm good.
Now I'm not boasting. This really isn't something to be proud of. I'm not in college, so nobody really cares about my drinking prowess, but me. I'm proud of it, because it keeps me from having the tell-tale sign of a disease. Although I do fear, down the road, some others may occur due to this. Yes I am aware that being able to drink large quantities of alcohol doesn't mean you must do so whenever possible. I'm not that silly. I know when my body says "hold it now." I have even been known to call it a night prematurely, when I'm feeling the effects more than normal. I've also been known to stay out four hours too long. I'm not giving myself a proverbial pat on the back. Honestly.
This blog is actually a question. I know the answer, so it is a rhetorical question, in some ways, but it does make me wonder. Why would anyone spend an evening drinking when they know the repercussions will be painful and ruin the next day? I have told many friends and acquaintances that if I ever felt the way they explained the following day, I would give up drinking forever. I'm not kidding. I hate the act of vomiting more than any feeling I've ever had. The thought of doing that once a month, once a week even, scares me to death. When I was younger I persisted because it was cool to drink. Now on the rare occasion this happens, I go into hermit mode. I can count the number of times I've drank myself sick in the past ten years on one hand (with maybe a few extra digits, but the occurrences are few and far between). The last time this happened I wanted to die. I actually made myself sick, because of how awful I felt and that was the hardest thing I ever did. Obviously, it makes you feel better, but the act is so painful to me, I can't bare it. That coupled with what my memory perceives as a blinding headache? Why would anyone do anything that causes this? I honestly can't comprehend. There are few evenings I've ever had that are worth a completely lost day with the addition of pain and suffering.
Do I like to socialize over cocktails? Absolutely. Do I have plans to stop? Absolutely not. If I knew that every following day would result in pain, aches and a feeling of nausea would I continue? Never.
When I watched the movie the Hangover, they took a somewhat comical look at the results of a drunken evening. There was pain as a result of the festivities. I've never woken up with a tiger in my bathroom, but I have had a cheese puff in my bathtub and couldn't find a bag of them. I've never woken up with a tooth missing, but have had a hole in the back of my shirt covered in blood. I've never lost a friend and spent the next day trying to find him. Although I have spent the next day trying to remember what friends I saw the night before. The one thing I do always do (as long as I'm able to sleep at least four hours) is function. When that day stops, I'll know it's time to pull back the reigns. Fortunately, that day hasn't arrived.
it seriously hurts my feelings that you didn't like this movie.
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