Opalescence

A few things you should know before reading this post:

• Yes, I’m drunk inebriated at the moment.  I’m still a stickler for typing/spelling.
• I don’t get like this very often, so enjoy while you can.
• I’ve never in the history of blogging erased a post, so it’s not likely to happen today, either. 

I think it’s one of the great joys in life, being able to feel like your neck’s not able to properly balance the rest of your head without causing injury to yourself.  One of my fraternity brothers once told me that you KNOW you’re drunk if you run your fingers through your hair and it feels ENTIRELY too good.  Upon doing this, I know I’m not drunk, but perhaps speaking in caps WAY TOO MUCH is another sign.  The world may never know…

I’m not a big drinker.  In the last year, you can literally use one hand to count the number of times I’ve even been drunk inebriated.  Part of the reason for this is that I like to go to karaoke bars, and I point blank REFUSE to sing if I feel even the slightest touch of inebriation.  Many people can’t sing without having a decent amount of alcohol “liquid courage” in them; I’m opposite, in that I know what alcohol does to your vocal cords, and won’t risk sounding bad by drinking before performing.  Karaoke bars that insist on X amount of minimum drinks before performance are my enemy.

Another reason is that I simply don’t feel the need to drink much.  While I’m sure some of my fraternity brothers are shaking their heads in disgust, I merely need to point my bar bill and smirk.  I’ve always been a lightweight in terms of how quickly I feel the effects of alcohol, and instead of feeling the need to play “catch up” with guys who often double my own weight and dectuple my drinking experience, I just write myself off as a cheap date who doesn’t need to shell out much money to feel a good buzz for the night.  Why would I want to put my wallet, as well as my liver, in jeopardy for the sake of being able to claim I can drink this guy or that guy under the table?

One thing I can claim with great pride is that, while inebriated, I’ve never had a conversation or patch of time that I couldn’t remember.  This differs greatly from some of the experiences some of my fraternity brothers have had.  One gentleman, for instance, mistook the door to another brother’s room for a bathroom stall, and proceeded to urinate on it before realizing his error.  As for another, I can’t claim to know quite what happened to him the night before; all I know is I will never forget finding him face-down in the hallway the morning after a particularly ‘boisterous’ night, his shorts around his ankles.

To be fair, his briefs were up and covering his naughty bits, but still… the visual was pretty unforgettable.

Fortunately (or not, depending on your philosophy, I suppose), there will be no such hijinks tonight, aside from random thoughts of varying amusing-ness.  If you’ve enjoyed my rambling, please feel free to comment.

Otherwise, please don’t ever play this message to me.