Posts Tagged 'Embarrassed'

How to Lose Friends and Alienate People While Intoxicated

I’ve done it again!

Another episode of temporary insanity. You would think that I learned my lesson last time, but apparently these things just don’t register with me…I don’t even remember most of my night which is terrible to begin with, and when I was told some of things I did and said, my first reaction was laughter. What a fucking nut I am! But as the day of recovery has gone on and things have started to sink in, I really do feel quite terrible about last night. Don’t get me wrong, I really was having a wonderful time…until all the alcohol hit and I realized that I lost not only my camera, but also my ID, transit pass and dignity.

I keep getting told that I really wasn’t that bad; but to tell someone that they’re no good in bed (whether true or not) is just rude and unacceptable (and, honestly, slightly humorous)! I can only imagine all of the other shit and word vomit spewed from my mouth if I was wasted enough to say something alongĀ  the likes of the aforementioned…ugh, I don’t even want to think about it. It makes me cringe. And what’s even better, is that fact that while wasted, I deleted every piece of drunk texting evidence. I woke up this morning (feeling as though I were about to die) to a blank, empty phone. Brilliant! I amaze myself sometimes.

Actually, as I write this, I’m slightly conflicted. Part of me is fairly embarrassed, sad and upset over my actions last night and the other half thinks it’s one of those, “shit happens” kind of situations and the best I can do is shake my head and laugh it off. I mean, this dude doesn’t like me anyway, so does it really matter that I made a complete ass of myself in front of him one night? I’m sure I’ve done much worse and life goes on and one day I won’t even remember this (hopefully).

This time I did make a (lame) attempt at apologizing; so I guess that means I’m trying. The main thing to remember is this: refrain (as in DO NOT) have 5 shots of whiskey, 5 beers and that motherfucking vodka! What was I thinking?! We hate eachother. We’ve never gotten along and we never will. I am never drinking vodka again (or 5 shots of whiskey with 5 beers). End of story.

I’m sorry, two words/I always think after you’re gone/When I realize I was acting all wrong/So selfish, two words that could describe/Old actions of mine when patience is in short supply
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This is an apology that you will never actually see.

This one is a little personal:

I have once again drunkenly out-done myself. I didn’t think I could possibly get any better, but apparently I can with the help of my old, deceitful friend, Mr. Vodka.

Please believe me when I say that this was truly an accident. I swear on my beloved, deceased, best friend, Tuffy. Clearly, I did not remember New Years’ Eve of 2006 when Mr. Vodka and I first hooked up…which ended in regret the next morning, which was when I decided to swear off of him and all of his flavored friends. I just couldn’t trust myself alone with them.

Fast forward two years later: Disco, Drugs and Drag Queens is the theme and the celebrated event, my roommates birthday. I was persuaded to wear ridiculously sexy, leather-looking leggings of the Lindsay Lohan fashion with a slinky gold top, and needless to say, I was scared. I have short stubs for legs and the top was held together with one little string. Never in my life have I considered myself “sexy” nor purposely dressed the part; so a good stiff drink was in order. Having also been a little tired from the previous night, I decided to mix my Rockstar energy drink with vodka. Who knew that Rockstar would mask the taste of vodka so well? I kept topping my drink off with vodka thinking there wasn’t enough in it because I couldn’t taste it…I had two red cups of this mixture before the party even started…plus a shot of Goldschlagger to get the party started…

As my roommate Kiss described, it was as if I had an “on/off switch”. One minute I was fine, the next, I was all over the place. I could have been running around naked and I wouldn’t have even cared. I was dancing, DJ’ing and dancing some more. At one point I ran to my room for whatever reason (probably to find my phone and then proceed to drunk text) when my computer caught my eye. I immediately got on and started drunkenly chatting with friends. At one point I remember how incredibly difficult it was becoming to type and the next…? I got a text from a particular friend whom I was really looking forward to seeing/snoogling/hanging out with that said he wouldn’t be making it to the party…it was all over after that…unfortunately, another friend got the brunt of my anguish over this situation via internet chatting and I didn’t even really realize it until the next morning. That was the most painful conversation I have ever had to reread in my life. And embarrassing beyond words. I can only imagine what this person must think of me; especially since he has not talked to me since and I’m too ashamed to do anything about it. When I told a friend of mine this story, she assured me, “This will be funny in a few months, it is now. [He probably thinks] that you’re a crazy bitch. Hahahaha. It’s cool. Take comfort in the fact that you’re not, and that makes it even funnier.” And she’s right. So that’s what I’m trying to do.

After I made that mess, came the uncontrollable tears. Huge alligator tears that I just couldn’t stop from crying despite my best efforts. I literally cried all of my make up off and was a mascara-tear streaked mess. I really wish I had a picture of what I had looked like. When I try to imagine it, I get that Hole album cover in my head, the “Live Through This” one; only 10 times worse. I know I must have been sobbing pretty hard because my eyes were all swollen the next morning. It’s amazing the way Mr. Vodka can fuck with me and intensify my emotions.

Around 3am a friend woke me up to check on me. I immediately ran to the bathroom to rid myself of the bottle of rubbing alcohol I must have drank–that’s what it smelled like anyway. As I stood up, I caught myself in the mirror–hair wildly disheveled, make up completely gone, and one false eyelash still attached with my party clothes on. I couldn’t help but laugh at myself and wonder what in the hell happened.

So, to those of you that I missed at the party because I locked myself in my room and passed out wasted around 11:15pm, I apologize. I’m sorry I missed all the dancing and debauchery to be had. And to the person who I wrote, “Please don’t ever see me again” (or maybe it was “talk to me again”? I’m not sure, I erased the conversation because it was too terrible to keep) and spewed word vomit all over, I am sincerely sorry. I paid for it the next morning, believe me.

And to the man–nay, the boy who made me cry, I still hate you. (Not really, but it makes me feel better to write that…and with time, I’ll get over you just as easily as you seem to have gotten over me.)