Little Bits of Pixie Dust

Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, martini in the other, body thourougly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO, what a ride!!"

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

In Which I Reveal My Nerdiness To You

Well, I think that I have finally recovered enough to blog about my weekend. *Sigh*, the thing that stands out the most from it is that I am no longer the woman that I once was in college, and that I just can't drink like I'm eighteen anymore. This really puts a damper on things for me, because I used to be the champ. I could put everyone to bed and STILL wake up the next morning without a hangover. I really miss those days...

So A* and I went to a wedding this Saturday. It was for one of my co-workers. I went and got a brand new outfit, and A* even got himself a spiffy new tie. We looked, I don't mind saying, completely awesome, and even coordinated with each other. I was pleased. We made it to the service on time, with even time to spare, which is a very rare occurence with us. The church was beautiful, with a huge Christmas tree all lit up in the front and twinkly lights. Perfect for a winter wedding. Well, I was sat next to the date of another co-worker. As soon as I sat down, she introduced me to him, and he immediately started touching me. You know, he was one of those people that have to put a casual arm over your shoulders, or place his hand on my leg while I talked. I wasn't a big fan of this big mustached man touching me, not to mention that we were whispering and he kept breathing not so nice breath right in my face. I scooted closer to A* and eventually he left me alone.

Wedding ceremony proceeded with no catastrophes. The bride looked wonderful, and her smile lit up the entire church. I squeezed A*'s hand throughout, looking forward to the day when we are standing up there.

At the reception, things start to get a little fuzzy. Dinner didn't start till six, and we got there about 4:30, so in the time between dinner and then, I took full advantage of the bar. I decided to stick with one drink, so I narrowed it down to some White Zin. I love me some White Zin. By the time the buffet was opened, the bar tender had begun to place a glass of wine on the bar everytime A* or I approached. So by this time I was feeling pretty good. I had a nice little buzz going, was not making any kind of fool of myself, and was enjoying the party. However, the food on the buffet was not very appetizing. So now I have an empty stomach, and that bar tender just kept on pouring the wine.

Next thing I remember clearly is being involved in a train. You know these things, every wedding has them. Where everyone lines up and dances around the hall, while the "C'mon ride the train" song plays? So I was in the train, and apparently having a pretty good time, because A* told me that everytime we passed the table he was sitting at, I punched my fist up into the air and yelled "Woo hoo!!" As the train song died down, another song came on, and I stayed on the dance floor and got down. Somewhere in this time period, Touchy-Feely from earlier appeared and began to try to dance with me. He kept grabbing my hands and trying to spin me around. I think I said, "Ew," to him and staggered off to find A*.

Don't really remember all that much else. The rest are details that A* has supplied. I guess I had a couple more glasses of wine, and A* decided it was time to go home before I did something stupid in front of all these people that I work with. He half carried me to the car, and a friendly security guy advised him to "give her two asprin before you put her to bed." Now things start getting out of hand. We are driving home when the urge hits me. I am going to puke, and I mean NOW. I told A*, and he screeched the car over to the side of the road. There I vomitted all over the curb. Apparently we also disturbed a homeless man's sleep, because A* said that as I was leaning out of the door and heaving, the man got up from his bed of blankets and stood by A*. His comment? "Man, she is fucked up."

We got home after stopping three more times so that I could throw up. According to A*, he told me to leave the window down and I refused. I guess that explains how the puke got all over the door and window. He says that I projectile vomitted onto the glass. Oops. A* carried me up the stairs and deposited me in the bathroom, where I threw up even more. A* asked me if I felt like I could go to bed, and I told him no, so the sweetheart went and got my pillow and a blanket and made a bed for me on the floor of the bathroom. I camped out there for a couple of hours, as the cats sniffed me and wondered what I was doing on the floor when I wasn't playing with them, and then I woke up and realized that my bed would be WAY more comfortable than the floor. As I staggered into the bedroom, I happened to glance at the clock.

It was 11:00.

And this is why my drinking days are over. I can no longer handle two and a half bottles of wine, and I am passed out before 11.

I am a nerd.


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