As I write this, I am feeling a little bit tipsy and sleepy. Two signs that can be associated with drunkenness. Sigh. For the first time in a long time, I am kinda, sorta drunk. And although I’d like to feel guilty about it, I can’t. It was time well spent with my friends anyway. And our host was amazing — she took care of everything (foods, snacks, drinks(!), and even desserts). And… she gave into our every little whim. Sigh.
I know. I’m sort of an ass.
It’s a wonder to me why I am still able to type this blog post in my state. My head is spinning ever so slightly…. wooh. I’ve always credited myself for having quite a strong resistance against alcoholic drinks. Well, maybe not. But at least I didn’t do anything stupid that would make me hate myself.
Which reminds me of the first time I ever drank. Do you remember the first time you got drunk?
Was it good? Was it bad?
Well, my first experience was both good and bad. Like every other naive teenager, I did it for the heck of it. I thought it was alright — this always happens in the movies, right? Teenagers get drunk and it’s normal. Perfectly normal. And besides, it wasn’t like I was going to go out of the street and parade my worst self.
Wrong. I managed to confess my “undying” love to my then-crush and run out of the street and lie down on the lawn in the house across us.
I thought that was the right way to get drunk. Be silly. Don’t give a fuck.
I should have really given a fuck, though. Because my friends would occasionally bring up that first time and I wish that memory could be erased off the history of mankind.
Sigh. Anyway, I’ll have to end this post because my brain is going to falter soon.
Stay at home. Don’t get drunk. Seriously.