You know you've reached that special level of sophistication when you are not the most drunk person in the room. I gladly enjoy having the honor of being the 9th drunkest person at the party last night. Ninth! Nine! Eight people were actually more intoxicated than I was. I was so proud to be able to stand on my own two feet. Nine! Ninth drunkest person! Now that's progress.
That's not to say that I didn't have my moments. I'm still learning the keys to moderation. I figured I would become less intoxicated if I made rum and cokes by putting the coke in before the rum, however one of my friends quipped that would be worse because now I won't even know how much rum I put in. Usually I put in one splash, and then I don't think that's enough, so I put in a second splash. Then something distracts me during my second splash. Since I can't remember whether that second splash was adequate I put in a third just to make sure.
And people wonder how I get drunk so fast. The answer is: stop letting me mix my own drinks! It's like I'm writing my own death certificate.
The fact that I didn't fall over or stumble into my own vomit is defintely the work of progress. Some things I still need to work on? Rum makes me curse like a sailor. I can't just walk around downtown saying "What the f*ck man?!" instead of saying hello. If I keep doing that they'll take my booze filled Poland Spring bottle away.
Okay, I'm not painting the prettiest picture here, I ran into many friends at the downtown festivities last night. Most of them I did great with lesser degrees of profanity.
Happy New Year. Or shall I say "What the f*ck man?!"
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