But it was worth it.
Urgh....never again, I tell you. Never again.
My close friend and I decided to go out for drinks last night - we've been trying to get a chance to go out, just the two of us, to do a "girl" thing, for awhile now. Finally got our schedules synched and went to Rosie's last night for drinks. We decided we were going to get more than a little drunk. And we then proceeded to make good on that decision.
Mind you, I don't often get *drunk* at all. I usually get a bit tipsy, mellow, a little unsteady on my feet, but not that bad. Partly it's that I know I have a very strong predisposition to alcoholism (my dad's entire family lives in the bottle, basically), so I have to be careful. Partly it's simply that I'm a control freak, particularly when it comes to self-control. That's why I don't bother to smoke pot anymore. All it would ever do was make me hyper-vigilant and self-monitoring, constantly checking "Has it kicked in fully yet? Am I high? What other effects am I feeling? I'm hungry - is it the munchies or am I just actually hungry? Dry mouth or have I not kept hydrated today?" and so on, a constant running monologue that drives me nuts. I'm not as bad with alcohol, but I do self-monitor a lot. I can pull off appearing relatively sober even if walking steadily is a struggle for me - nobody can tell. It helps that I don't get so bad that I can't control it.
But last night...yeesh. I not only drank *more* than I usually do, I drank it a LOT faster, and I hadn't had dinner beforehand. Smashed. Plastered. Baked. All those other nonsensical terms meaning excessively intoxicated. I was out. Happily so, but still. Julianne was in a similar state, although perhaps slightly better than I. I remember texting my lover while I was in the restroom at the bar, because my legs had felt slightly numb when I walked from bar to bathroom, and I for some reason found this supremely entertaining and felt I should share. We staggered back to her apartment sometime between midnight and 1 AM, where we hung around drinking water to stave off the hangover, and finding food. But by that time I wasn't feeling well - I tossed back too much water all at once, and the food didn't help. Julianne had already gone to bed, by the time I started puking. But it was only once, and really, it wasn't all that bad as far as throwing up goes. I felt better afterward, downed a half a glass of water slowly and carefully, then fell onto her couch and slept until 9:30.
Waking up, I didn't have much problem. The beginnings of a headache, but my stomach felt okay. I drove home, took some Excedrin, and fell back into bed to let it do its thing. And when I woke up...ow. Somehow the hangover had had a delayed reaction or something, but by 11 when I woke up again, it was there. Pounding headache, nausea, etc. Took some more meds, ate some crackers, went back to sleep again. Woke up early afternoon, still feeling shitty, but hungry, so I made myself a grilled-cheese sandwich and tomato soup, then went back to bed again since my stomach wasn't all that pleased with my offerings. Didn't wake up until after seven, but finally felt better when I did. I can now say, I have had my first experience of drinking until I puke, and also my first-ever hangover. Not fun. Very not fun. Going to be more careful in the future.
Now, the entire day that I was going to devote to my project (due 10 AM) and two papers (due 4 PM) due tomorrow has been wasted. I'm going to catch a couple of hours of sleep, then get up before 6 and get to work. Hopefully I can get it all done. Wish me luck.
But damn, the evening was fun.
My close friend and I decided to go out for drinks last night - we've been trying to get a chance to go out, just the two of us, to do a "girl" thing, for awhile now. Finally got our schedules synched and went to Rosie's last night for drinks. We decided we were going to get more than a little drunk. And we then proceeded to make good on that decision.
Mind you, I don't often get *drunk* at all. I usually get a bit tipsy, mellow, a little unsteady on my feet, but not that bad. Partly it's that I know I have a very strong predisposition to alcoholism (my dad's entire family lives in the bottle, basically), so I have to be careful. Partly it's simply that I'm a control freak, particularly when it comes to self-control. That's why I don't bother to smoke pot anymore. All it would ever do was make me hyper-vigilant and self-monitoring, constantly checking "Has it kicked in fully yet? Am I high? What other effects am I feeling? I'm hungry - is it the munchies or am I just actually hungry? Dry mouth or have I not kept hydrated today?" and so on, a constant running monologue that drives me nuts. I'm not as bad with alcohol, but I do self-monitor a lot. I can pull off appearing relatively sober even if walking steadily is a struggle for me - nobody can tell. It helps that I don't get so bad that I can't control it.
But last night...yeesh. I not only drank *more* than I usually do, I drank it a LOT faster, and I hadn't had dinner beforehand. Smashed. Plastered. Baked. All those other nonsensical terms meaning excessively intoxicated. I was out. Happily so, but still. Julianne was in a similar state, although perhaps slightly better than I. I remember texting my lover while I was in the restroom at the bar, because my legs had felt slightly numb when I walked from bar to bathroom, and I for some reason found this supremely entertaining and felt I should share. We staggered back to her apartment sometime between midnight and 1 AM, where we hung around drinking water to stave off the hangover, and finding food. But by that time I wasn't feeling well - I tossed back too much water all at once, and the food didn't help. Julianne had already gone to bed, by the time I started puking. But it was only once, and really, it wasn't all that bad as far as throwing up goes. I felt better afterward, downed a half a glass of water slowly and carefully, then fell onto her couch and slept until 9:30.
Waking up, I didn't have much problem. The beginnings of a headache, but my stomach felt okay. I drove home, took some Excedrin, and fell back into bed to let it do its thing. And when I woke up...ow. Somehow the hangover had had a delayed reaction or something, but by 11 when I woke up again, it was there. Pounding headache, nausea, etc. Took some more meds, ate some crackers, went back to sleep again. Woke up early afternoon, still feeling shitty, but hungry, so I made myself a grilled-cheese sandwich and tomato soup, then went back to bed again since my stomach wasn't all that pleased with my offerings. Didn't wake up until after seven, but finally felt better when I did. I can now say, I have had my first experience of drinking until I puke, and also my first-ever hangover. Not fun. Very not fun. Going to be more careful in the future.
Now, the entire day that I was going to devote to my project (due 10 AM) and two papers (due 4 PM) due tomorrow has been wasted. I'm going to catch a couple of hours of sleep, then get up before 6 and get to work. Hopefully I can get it all done. Wish me luck.
But damn, the evening was fun.