August 4, 2003

• Oh WOW.  I really hurt myself this weekend!  Monday now, and FINALLY, I feel normal again.  *oof*  No.....more.......tequilla......

  
  

  Friday night, about 5pm. Supposed to be Girls Night, but hal and I got stood up by the other girls, so it was more of a Cuz Night.  Great Fun!!  Started with the pool...the new one, that is marvelous, btw,  and the Nekkid pool party.  And drinks of course.  And then some more drinks.  And then, the last of the liquor (except the Blue Cuaracco...can anyone drink more than a table spoon of that at a time? *shudder*).  Around 7:30, we realized that we were out of booze.  "The liquor Store is open until 8:00" I say, sealing my Doom.  "We'll lets go!!", says hal.  She's a real party girl, I tell ya!  We bought a pint of 1800.  this was the "reasoning":  (which I put in quotes, because, as you will see, it really was not reasonable at ALL...) All of the mixers were giving me heart burn, and making me feel all bloated.  So we figured if we stopped drinking mixed drinks and went to straight shots, then all would be just fine.  *shaking head* 

  
  

  SO....shots of 1800....Cashew chicken..YUM!!  We had a fabulous dinner, which we amazingly prepared without incident.  (the only mistake I can think of, is we forgot the cashews until the last minute...no biggie!)  We are off to go to the Dublin Pub.  Here we have lived a lifetimes worth of drinking and dancing already.  When I was in college, I went no less than twice a week...sometimes three times.  And then after I stopped going to college, I still would go there and hang out with my friends.  It was my Cheers. We walked in and the doorman knew us, let us in for free, the bartender, knew us and had our drinks ready, the band knew us, and stopped what they were doing to say "hello!".  It was a beautiful thing.  It was our living room.  Our safe place.  Er...kind of.  *ahem*

  
  

  Anyway, it's been years since that time, and the doorman doesn't know us any more, the bartender didn't know what we wanted until we ordered, and the band is only mildly interested in our lives.  We have all moved on.  But still...it's nice to go home once in a while. We danced the night away, too!  I had SO much fun.  The only thing wrong with the evening is that I was so f***ing drunk by the time we got there, I can't remember certain parts of the night! ARGH!!!  We drank McTarnahan's.  We danced.  We cajoled very young men to get up and dance with the very young girls on the dance floor.  We took our spots on the dance floor as if no time had passed, and we took Dance your Pants Off to new levels.  (My calves told the story the next day, and the day after, and even this morning!)  My God!  How we danced! 

  
  

  And the next morning...oh how we hurt!!!  Oh......my ........god.       I had to be up for a nail appointment at 9:30am.  I got home around 3am.  Geordie was the Knight in a Shining Honda that evening.  Greg took care of me.  What a man.  He gave me a huge glass of water, a vitamin, and some rolaids.  He knows what it's like.  Of course, ironically, the next morning, HE was the voice of responsibility. Oh, the IRONY!!!  I said, "Maybe I should call and cancel my appointments...i feel awfuuuuullll!". He said, "You knew you had those appointments when you decided to go out!  You better get up and take a shower!".  Groaning the whole way, I did it.  I took the shower, Did not one, but TWO separate nail appointments, one with a first-time client.  Luckily, she's blind and couldn't see that I was sweating profusly and my hands were shaking uncontrolably.  Oh lordy.  Made it through the next appointment.  Stopped at Taco bell on the way home....if there's a cure for a hangover the size of Raleigh Hills, then it's at The Border.  Took food home where Greg was waiting to see how I was feeling.  'Bout the same.  After I eat this, I'm going to go lay down, I say.  Okie Dokie, he says.  he and I ended up sleeping for about two and a half hours, while our dear son watched the Sponge Bob marathon.  Thank god for DVD's.

  
  

  I can say, with certainty, that I will never NEVER do that to my body intentionally, again.  It took me a full three days to recover.  I'm OLD, I tell you!  Back in our youthful days of being 21 and footloose, we could have done that same thing three nights in a row, and then I would have gotten up to open the store at 5:30 in the morning, had a few shots of espresso, and been FINE.  Not today, my friends.  Not today. 

  
  

  The lesson to be learned here, if there is a lesson, is probably that you can go home, but you shouldn't order the Cuervo 1800.  Or maybe, you can Dance If You Want to, but leave the marathon drinking  to the college students.   Or in the immortal words of Chef, "There's a time and a place for everything, children, and it's called COLLEGE!"  

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