Last night was proof that I am a master at the craft of choosing friends. You see, the people I encounter in my life are filtered through a battery of torture tests to determine whose friendship is worth the time and effort of cultivation. I have them jump through rings of fire, swim with sharks, and trek across the Serengeti with nothing more than the clothes on their back and a pistol with one bullet; when the sifting is over, I end up with only the most outstanding of human beings who know what to do when I don’t, and who help me out when I am in a pickle—the way they did last last night.
Apparently, I spent twenty minutes with my face inside a trash can, regurgitating the contents of my stomach. The next thing I remember is flitting in and out of consciousness and waking up at three different points of the evening: first I woke up slumped over the futon, making a mental note to eat more carbs the next time P swings by with a bottle of Absolut. When I woke up a second time, I found myself sitting upright on the floor with E’s knees straddling my limp torso from behind and my neck draped across his right leg; the third time I woke up, I was lying flat on the ground, my head resting on E’s lap (poor fellow, wonder how long it was before blood circulation in his legs resumed normal operations).
M bravely held down her sensitive gag reflex and soldiered through not one, but two people hurling their dinners out of their oesophagi. She also made a fuss over me when she found out I had exceeded the dosage on my albuterol and spent the rest of my short waking minutes making sure my hands went nowhere near it. K and N shelled out more “Are you okays” than you can shake a stick at, and I distinctly remember my stubborn self shunning good advice—something about not drinking milk in my state—from their well-meaning minds.
I woke up this morning lightheaded and groggy, but otherwise in perfectly good shape. My undying thanks to everyone for not picking up a Sharpie and getting creative on my face, you guys are all too good for me, TOO GOOD I TELL YOU.
And They’ve Got Something You Don’t Often Find
Posted on April 19th, 2008
You won’t be so lucky the next time. I’ll come prepared with enough Sharpies for the whole crew.
hahaha, sounds like u had a good time. u know i would have gotten involved with the sharpie. i like a bit of creative freedom.
M - There will be no next time, mark my words!
Honks - Yeah, I know you would probably have been the first to pull out the Sharpie, which is why I don’t trust getting sloshed with you!
we were both drinking this weekend :) fascinating.. must be preparing for next month hmm? i’m glad you have good friends around as well.
did you call my dear?
I think I’ve fulfilled my drinking quota for the next few months actually, but with another party in early May and barbecue season rolling along, it looks like I’ll be seeking more forgiveness from my liver and friends who let me sleep on them.
I called, but you didn’t pick up! No matter, I just wanted to call you to let you know I was experiencing my very first hangover, haha!
ahha. i’ll have you know that after i read this.. i wondered if you had made a drunken phone call :) better a hangover phone call though. like that day i called you after that one night.
ah.. these precious years when we can get away with being young and stupid.
Yes, I figured that if you were good enough to report on your activities, I could do the same on my end. Let’s be young and stupid together sometime!
You’re fortunate to have good friends.
I have a friend who is a crying drunk and we tend to get entertainment out of it. Sure, we don’t break out the black permanent marker and start tattooing passed out people, but we do damage in other forms. So I don’t know if that makes me a good friend. =P
Other than that, gotta love friends. =P
i don’t think you give me enough credit. i was only joking, i would not have been the first to pull out a sharpie. although it’s been done to me before.
Oh Honks darling don’t take it the wrong way, I’m sure you wouldn’t; besides, I really don’t think you’d want me straddled between your knees and sleeping on you for hours on end anyway…or would you? Haha!