"Losing Face"

Experiments are always best done in controlled environments…

Like getting drunk, for example.

:-p 

For my nephew Mikoy’s going-away party (he’s 22, and going back home to Adelaide), there was a family get-together, and one of my nephews (not a kid anymore, definitely), Myles, suggested that we get some drinks. My pop and uncles were drinking Red Horse and Emperador brandy, and we didn’t want that. Mixed drinks and Tequila were suggested. I was cool with that, and even though I was a 1 or 2 beers kind of girl, I was open to idea of drinking other things.

(And besides, is there any other environment as “controlled” as a family party? I thought so, too. LOL)

So we went out to get them, Lala and Popoi did the picking, I got the food. (They did the mixing too when we got back to the house.) We went for a drive around the city before we got home, and we saw that it was a “full” night, everyone was out doing something.

It was all ok at first, we were just talking and eating and catching up. And then there were more and more shots, and the mixed drink started to taste like juice. (And I drank it like juice... i.e., “More juice please!”). I just sat there, and I was just quiet and smiling. I remember my cousin Yakee jokingly saying, “It’s not a good idea to get Fannie drunk…she’s not fun anymore.”

Actually, I was quiet because I was taking note of the whole “dissociative” experience…it was a nice, calming buzz at first (the initial chest constriction which I always expect when I first drink, which I likened to using a bra that was too tight, had come and gone), and then things started to get more “fun”. Or loose, actually. Jokes were funnier. The “juice” was tastier. The breeze was cooler. My eyes were more loose  in their sockets (it was fun to roll them around every few minutes. My muscles felt weak and tingly. And I kept thinking that smiling was easy and yet I was starting to lose feeling in my face.

I think I was still pretty sensible. They tried to grill me a bit about “boyfriend” matters, but I just kept mum, no long-winded speeches on loves and heartbreaks and all that hullaballoo. “Nothing to tell yet,” I said, and turned to Myles (who has a girlfriend) and passed the pressure. :-p They told me to drink water and pee. But I didn’t feel like doing any of those, so I didn’t.

When it was time to go home, my pop, seeing that I was [slightly] hammered, asked me if I could still make it to the car. “Why did you have to drink that much?” he asked (I didn’t get to see his face, I remember I was looking at the ground I was walking on). “It’s cool, pop, I’m ok.” And I walked to the car (straight, I hope) and plopped in the back, and slept until I got home.

“Can you walk?” my father asked when we got home.

“Sure Pop, I’m fine.” And I did walk out the car and upstairs to my room where I changed and then got in bed. I probably wasn’t that drunk yet, because I can still remember thinking about being dizzy and my face being numb.

I did call someone, and said something like, “I can’t feel my face.” I forgot what else that other person said, but it was something about drinking water.

I just wanted to lie in bed and sleep. I remembered thinking, “How can people be more fun, much less have sex in this state?” before I dozed off. Haha.

And then it was morning.

LOL.

-------------------------

I don't think I've ever gotten so drunk to the point of vomiting, even at my “ripe old age.” I almost wish that I had a party girl phase where I’d get hammered at night and wake up in the morning with a major hangover, just so I can write about the experience. :-p

The best I could do was just get “woozy”, and then I’d stop...and that would be at the second or third bottle, if I ever did. It was more fun getting a laugh watching your friends “have fun”.  (I’m not writing defensively because there is a slight chance that my mother might wander online and read this, and would probably overreact and think I was a wanton drunk at the mention of me drinking beer, but I am writing it like it is because it’s the truth.)

(Uptight, much?)

I didn’t get to the point of vomiting ‘cause by the time I was supposed to, I couldn’t even stand up and retch.

(This is probably one of those cases where it is on the pathetic side to be able to say that you had kept all your mental and cognitive faculties intact while everyone else didn’t... and you’ll only find out about it now. haha)

------------------------

Also,  it gives me a 70/50 mm Hg reading.

------------------------

Ok, this was embarrassing. :-p

~ S.