With a Sense of Poise and Rationality

Friday, February 4, 2011 || 12:19 AM

Drink might not agree with me, but I certainly enjoy the argument.

I always said I wasn’t going to be the kind of student who would show up drunk or hungover to class, and though I did it a couple times for an extracurricular psychiatry seminar I took on Saturdays last semester, I told myself that didn’t count because… well… it’s Saturday, and Fridays, more often than not, I indulge in a bit of drinking and dancing to end the school week.

My psychiatrist ran that seminar, and it was kind of sad, the way he’d just shake his head at me, sitting in the front row, looking like I just rolled out of bed, makeup smeared, nursing an abnormally large bottle of Gatorade. The reason it was amusing to both of us, is because I’m always relatively well dressed when I go to our appointments, and indeed, went very well groomed and what not for most of the classes, but Friday nights are Friday nights, and the hangovers are worth it. I was the only psych student as well— the rest were all practicing therapists and what have you, twice, maybe thrice my age. It was really sad.

I also told myself I wouldn’t be doing it this semester, but I kind of may have failed. The going to class hungover part, I mean.

Wednesday night we went to some World Music concert by some Greek composer. I’m not even going to pretend knowing what any of it was about. All I know is that the music was great, though not something I’m used to, and there was a sexy violinist and a sexy cellist, and isn’t really that all that counts? Cellos and violins are just an instant turn on.

And at one point they played bits and pieces of Vivaldi’s Winter, so I didn’t feel all that terrible for not knowing what was going on. Seriously, though, my conception of the World Music genre is founded— the way most things in my naïve little cosmovision are— on what I picked up from Sifl & Olly as a kid. So when I hear “World Music”? I imagine this: [link] (00:35+)

This isn’t about the music, though. This is about my weakness for sweet sparkling white wine. It’s ridiculous. I tried to resist it most of the night. I really did. Mainly because I was with my uncle’s family, and I forget his policy about his girls drinking…so when I couldn’t take it anymore, very politely, I asked if I could have some.

He said I could, and I drank a couple glasses, but then I said “No. Bad Claw. No more than two.” But there were raspberries and strawberries involved, so I may have had a couple more glasses.

The worst part was at the end though, when everything was over, we were about to leave, but no one was moving, because they were all talking, and my uncle’s sister kept calling out, asking who wanted another glass, because the bottle was going flat, and it would be ‘such a waste’ if it did.

My little cousin knows about this particular weakness of mine, and kept pointing at me, though I wasn’t aware, and so I eventually caved in when her aunt offered me some, and I said I’d take one for the team, if it’s what had to be done, then essentially finished the remaining three quarters of the bottle by myself.

Of course I was very drunk, and the fact that I was wearing high heels did not help, but my mind was rational enough, as was my behavior… it was just my motor skills what failed, so as long as I stuck by my younger cousin, and didn’t open my mouth and say something silly, I would be perfectly fine.

I somehow did not count on the fact that I had to go down a million stairs. Wearing high heels. And so it was like what Kenzie wrote in my notebook that time I got drunk for the first time “The more she tries to act sober, the more obvious it is that she’s drunk.”.

Luckily, I took a ride with my eldest cousin’s boyfriend, and not my uncle and his family.

I passed out on the bed, and woke up late to class, not even bothering to change clothes. I did manage to fix a bit of the smeared makeup, but the would-be sex-hair was there, and people kept going (including my older cousin who missed the concert and I came across as I made my way to start class, while she was on her way out) “My, don’t you look happy and sexy today.”. I just sort of stared blankly at them going “Yeah, no— this is me half-drunk half-hungover, just rolled out of bed from last night, and ridiculously late to class. So not sexy…. Do they sell Gatorade here?”

Truth be told, Jules and I missed this. Quite a bit.

Now to spend the next two-three days cramming all sorts of sexy stuff about the brain, before caving in to the endless offer of drinks in Sta. Maria, courtesy of my eldest cousin’s awesome boyfriend who encourages my bad habits. Definitely going to miss this next semester.