CH3CH2OH

Posted on November 25, 2006

11


This weekend has been fraught with alcohol. I feel gross as shit. We’re talking the kind of weekend when you wake up in the morning to find puke in the toilet, next to which is a basin that you clearly positioned so as to cover all possible emissions from either end. I haven’t really done much drinking since I left law school behind, as I’m no longer as miserable (and after all, the wasn’t much else to do indoors over there). So my tolerance has gone from Russian Sailor to Muslim Parakeet. And that’s when things generally go south, in the following ways:

  1. My memory goes almost immediately. Saturday night I recall meeting some people who may or may not have been cool – no telling, now. I talked and talked with great vivacity and recall nothing of what was said. I also agreed to take a job, nodding enthusiastically when the offeror said, “hey, are you still going to be interested when you sober up?” I’m not…simply because I don’t recall what the job involved. Plus, like, I already have a job (which I have definitely decided to quit – I didn’t bust my ass in school for seven years to be bored out of my foliage). I also smoked a cigar, I think. I think lots of hilarious and bloggable stuff happened which has unfortunately dribbled out of my head – or more likely, been puked out of my head.
  2. My judgement goes right after that. I already have no brain/mouth filter, and hardly ever know what people mean when they say things. I probably have Asperger’s syndrome or something. Then again, my mother is the same way, so it’s probably run-of-the mill social disability. So when I’m drunk, even more stuff gets through, with disastrous results.
  3. I will inevitably hit on people of both genders. I may, for example, have accosted Amnesiac, but of course don’t exactly recall because of point 1. Sorry, dude.
  4. I get very affectionate and hug people and stroke them, usually inspiring alarm.
  5. I use even longer words than usual.

So overall, an unhappy scene. Coupled with the morning after send-bawab-off-to-get-eggs-for-huge-fry-up scenario, it’s best avoided in excess.

Things I do recall before I got shitfaced:

  • The interestingness of eating pumpkin pie for the first time ever in Cairo, after so many years of Canadian Thanksgivings. It tasted exactly as I expected. Just goes to show how much nicer people are here! I am also overcome with admiration that my American friend went to those baking-cooking-mashing lengths, with very picturesque results. Thanks, Tourism Girl.
  • Going to a party where a guy – an Egyptian guy – was wearing a T-shirt that said “These colors don’t run” on an American flag. On the back of the T-shirt was some crap about “our heroes in Iraq”. He didn’t seem to have any idea of the controversial nature of this message. Even the Americans were pissed off…including a dude in eyeliner! PsshhCopts. Sell outs. We upped sticks soon after that.
  • Viewing a manful wresting of car keys away from a guy who was so inebriated he was standing – to use the word loosely – at a 40 degree angle to the ground. Man, it’s been ages since I viewed a key-wresting. Sign of a good night.
  • Reading very loudly to The Twylet from a blog. My sister thinks blogs are lame and told me to shut up. Seeing as she was colouring in a Barbie picture left over from ’91 at the time, she’s in no position to talk about lame, no? I had coloured half of it before. Colouring’s hard, actually.

Been making a lot of lists lately, haven’t I? My writing style has been hopelessly compromised, I think. Must read more of those gathered papers stuck together with lots of small writing and numbers…you remember the ones?

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Posted in: friends, intoxicants