It’s about 2:30 now as I begin writing this. My headache is just about gone, and I’m feeling unsure as to whether last night was wise. Actually, no, I don’t think it was wise at all, but perhaps there are some good lessons to be learned from the whole ordeal.

Yesterday was Raluca’s birthday, so we all went to Molly Bloom’s to celebrate. All signs pointed to that night being just another nice night with friends. And it was. Thing is, my drinking really spiralled out of control. At first, we got two pitchers of Keith’s which is reasonable for about 11 people. As soon as we downed them, Conor (Raluca’s boyfriend) ordered two more pitchers. Again, it wouldn’t be so bad. Thing is, the others didn’t really drink as much. At some point, the only people still pouring from the pitchers were Raluca, Conor and I. Pitchers came and went. Raluca joked that she never saw my glass empty. The live band was blasting out the tunes, we were enjoying ourselves, and I was getting more and more wasted. All in all, by the end of the night, I think we ordered 7 pitchers–much of which was in my belly.

Truth be told, I know that I must have been looking really messed up. In the group, I was trying to be all coherent, but people were kind of laughing at my drunken state. I was telling people to help me out back home because I was really messed up. They did. I thought I was at least somewhat OK. On the way back I was running home at some points. I remember clearly Jenelle and Chris trying to get me to sing Björk. I refused (luckily). When we got back, I was telling Raluca and Conor, “yo heyyy, wwe have oto drinnk lotss of wattre or lse were’s gonan be so messed up in he morninnnng/” And so we gathered around the dining table trying to drink water. I wasn’t feeling to hot when I sat down. I put my head down but it didn’t help. I got up and that’s when I started feeling this tingly feeling in my throat. I tried to swallow, but I couldn’t…and that’s when it began.

I puked mightily, but caught blocked my mouth. I ran over to the kitchen sink which was luckily empty…and I just let loose. I don’t think I’ve puked so much in my life. Do you know of that Family Guy episode where Peter buys a few bottles of ipecac and makes a bet with all the guys in the house to drink and keep it down (the winner got a piece of pie…or something). There was something Monty Python-esque about seeing all of them puking heavily. Well, that’s exactly how I felt. It just kept of coming out. Conor and Raluca could only laugh/watch in horror. The vomit was mostly water and beer…but my lunch was there too and it wasn’t draining because lunch was blocking the hole. I’ll spare the details, but I washed it down.

I eventually sat on the stairs, looking at the clock on the stove. 1:30. I thought, “OK. I’ll just sit here and try to burn off some of this horrible feeling. By 2:30 I should be able to sleep. 2:30 came and went. I thought to get up, but when I did, I was hit by another bout of nausea. So I ran to the sink and started heaving. I was already pretty damn drained at that oint, so the damage was minimal. I went back to leaning against the handrail. Jenelle and Chris eventually came upstairs and noticed my pathetic state. They suggested I sleep in the living room. I knew that was a good idea. Jenelle was nice enough to run upstairs, get my pillow and blanket, as well as my waste basket just in case I needed to unload. She also brought a glass of water and a pill of tylenol. So there I lay, in the living roo, on the couch, trying to get comfortable, but really failing miserably. I did get some sleep though, luckily.

I think I woke up at 4 am though to go to the bathroom. That’s an amazing feat. I really can’t believe I was coordinated enough to go, and clean myself up properly. I woke again at 8 because the bright sunshine was blinding. I was still feeling like shit. I remember thinking that I still must have been processing the alcohol. I went up to my room and spoke to Keith on MSN telling him of my horrible ordeal. I wanted to eat or drink something, but I was still feeling nauseous so I decided against it. I got out of my clothes, I took some more tylenol and went back to the living room to try to sleep again. In the end, I woke up at 10:30 or so, trying to get myself together, but still feeling like crap.

So here I am now…looking back and thinking that all of this could have been avoided. Social drinking can be fun. However, getting smashed is totally not fun at all. I could have lived without ever having that experience and I would have been perfectly content. However, I suppose it takes actual experience to know just exactly why it’s a bad thing. It’s a rough lesson, but I know that it’s going to stick. It’s going to be a red flag. As Keith said, in order for it to be a learned lesson, I have to make sure not to do it again. I’m not against alcohol. Just…you have to be damn responsible about it.