All About G

So last night (and ridiculously early this morning) I did “some” drinking with a friend of mine.

It didn’t end up well. I puked three times, and have felt nauseous since.

In actuality, on the rare occasions that I drink, I drink in moderation, meaning I pace myself. I try not to down as many as quickly as I can. It gets ugly real fast that way. I had that happen to me once a couple of years back. I puked on and off for hours and passed out and came back to. I woke up still drunk. It was very miserable, and I promised I’d never do that again.

Yea, so much for that.

Anyway, the group of folks I was hanging out with are self-proclaimed “rugged” folks. Rugged, in their lingo, defines, apparently, being able to down a hell of a lot of alcohol, especially the strong stuff. I’ve known this since I first met them, so maybe for me it would have been better if I had declined the offer to drink with them. Or should have been more stubborn about the way I drink, I don’t know.

As the story goes, I did start out pacing myself, like usual. But everyone kept telling me “oh come on, chug it! be rugged!’ and things of that nature. They didn’t seem to listen to me when I told them, or tried to, that I like to pace myself. See, I don’t drink to get drunk and shitfaced. That’s no fun at all. I like to drink to get just a small buzz. Just enough to be cheerful. Is that a bad thing? In some people’s eyes, I guess so.

After a while of their nagging me, I finally gave it and sped up my intake of alcohol. Eventually, I was to the point where I was half-passed out. And I didn’t black out, luckily, but I can only barely remember what happen. I definitely remember stumbling to the bathroom, twice, to heave up the contents of my stomach, before finally passing out at around 3am, if I recall.

I woke up later this morning, feeing nauseous, and I actually puked again. I was dropped off of my dorm, and I went back to bed, sleeping for the rest of the afternoon. After I woke up this evening, I finally had the courage to try eating (ginger ale and crackers – the ultimate in stomach bugs). I still feel nauseous, actually, but it’s not to the point where I feel like I’m actually gonna puke.

Now, on to the point of my post. Usually, I’m very good at resisting peer pressure to do stupid things. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of not doing so when being stubborn was probably most needed. I think, if I ever decide to party here at Ithaca again, that I’m not gonna listen to people implying that I’m wimpy just because I don’t get myself shitfaced. I think it’d probably be even better if I just saved any kind of drinking for at home, where I can drink at my own pace without have everyone get on my case about it, and where I’m around my family and best friends, whom I trust the most.

In all honesty, I really have yet to see what exactly is so great about drinking till you puke in the toilet (or all over yourself, or all over the floor, etc). I’ve only done it twice, counting this episode in my life, and there wasn’t anything “fun” about leaning on the toilet, puking while half-conscious and unable to actually say a coherent sentence. I actually hate it. So to those of you who actually like to do that kind of thing; you go ahead and keep doing that, but let me stick to my drinking till I’m cheerful policy.

Comments (1) Oct 13 2008