Sorry You Feel Like Crap. Have Some Dog Hair!
I could never be an alcoholic. I say this not to brag about my willpower, as I have little. My problem, in fact, is the opposite. I lack the discipline to force myself to drink all day.
I used to be pretty good at getting drunk. In college I would go to a party and down six or seven beers in a couple of hours, and then pass out on a couch or small shrub. It helped that at the time I weighed about as much as Kate Moss at the nadir of the binge/purge cycle, but I attribute my ready inebriation primarily to youthful enthusiasm. In college, I had a single goal in mind: get wasted in as little time as possible. As I got older, I lost focus. It was no longer about just getting wasted; I became seduced by the allure of sleeping in my own bed and not vomiting into a strange man's dresser. When I finally gave in to the desire to avoid making an ass of myself, I could no longer maintain the drive I needed to drink three beers during an episode of Alf. By the time I started to actually drink beer for the taste, it was all over.
Sometimes I can still get pretty toasty by having several rum-and-Cokes or Seven-and-Sevens in a row, but I have to psych myself up first so that I can keep my focus. I can't be distracted by other activities, like "socializing", "eating", or "driving". I need to be head down with a drink in both fists. And don't be slowing me down with pretzels or peanuts -- I need to focus, people! Only when I've got a healthy supply of alcohol on its way to interfere with the proper functioning of my synapses can I allow my vigilance to waver even slightly.
Even when I was in college, I couldn't drink when I was hung over. I needed a good three days before I could stomache alcohol again. I never got the whole "hair of the dog" thing. I never even understood it as a metaphor. "Sorry about that rabid dog tearing into your quadracep, but hey, have a clump of its hair!" The only thing I would want from a dog that bit me was its head on a plaque. The saying should be "Have the head of the dog that bit you on a plaque." But come to think of it, I can't see how a line of bottle caps mounted on my wall would make me feel any better about vomiting up my pancreas either.
It's a losing battle. The older I get, the harder it is to get drunk and stay that way. I might as well accept it:
My name is Diesel and I'm sober.
I used to be pretty good at getting drunk. In college I would go to a party and down six or seven beers in a couple of hours, and then pass out on a couch or small shrub. It helped that at the time I weighed about as much as Kate Moss at the nadir of the binge/purge cycle, but I attribute my ready inebriation primarily to youthful enthusiasm. In college, I had a single goal in mind: get wasted in as little time as possible. As I got older, I lost focus. It was no longer about just getting wasted; I became seduced by the allure of sleeping in my own bed and not vomiting into a strange man's dresser. When I finally gave in to the desire to avoid making an ass of myself, I could no longer maintain the drive I needed to drink three beers during an episode of Alf. By the time I started to actually drink beer for the taste, it was all over.Sometimes I can still get pretty toasty by having several rum-and-Cokes or Seven-and-Sevens in a row, but I have to psych myself up first so that I can keep my focus. I can't be distracted by other activities, like "socializing", "eating", or "driving". I need to be head down with a drink in both fists. And don't be slowing me down with pretzels or peanuts -- I need to focus, people! Only when I've got a healthy supply of alcohol on its way to interfere with the proper functioning of my synapses can I allow my vigilance to waver even slightly.
Even when I was in college, I couldn't drink when I was hung over. I needed a good three days before I could stomache alcohol again. I never got the whole "hair of the dog" thing. I never even understood it as a metaphor. "Sorry about that rabid dog tearing into your quadracep, but hey, have a clump of its hair!" The only thing I would want from a dog that bit me was its head on a plaque. The saying should be "Have the head of the dog that bit you on a plaque." But come to think of it, I can't see how a line of bottle caps mounted on my wall would make me feel any better about vomiting up my pancreas either.
It's a losing battle. The older I get, the harder it is to get drunk and stay that way. I might as well accept it:
My name is Diesel and I'm sober.
Labels: Nonsense
| posted by Diesel at Sunday, December 17, 2006 |
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(all together)
Hi, Diesel!!
Word Verification:
nlpvsa: National Liquor Prevention and Vomit Sidetracking Association
lucky you. i had that "get drunk" thing down pat in my youth (oh, those crazy salad-eating days of college)... by the time i hit my early 20's -- armed with the knowledge that alcoholism in my family could be traced back to our Swedish cave-dwelling ancestor, Gor -- i had to accept the fact that i really *did* have a problem.
interestingly enough, once i stopped drinking (many years ago), i learned something about myself: i'm completely stupid and uncoordinated without the benefit of alcohol and/or drugs in my system.
"are you drunk?" folks asked, after watching me slip, fall, and follow my bowling ball half-way down the alley before remembering to let go.
"No. that's just me." i said, just before they kicked me off the team.
sobriety ain't for sissies. xox
Neva sounds like one of those people who are more fun to be around when sober than drunk.
If you're of the other variety, Diesel, I've found that the drink recipe can play a major role in facilitating the achievement of your desired level of stupor.
Choose a "three-step" cocktail that 1) guarantees rapid and long-lasting inebriation, 2) works its magic after just a few visits to the bar, and 3) because it tastes like a soft drink, can be knocked down quickly with little or no concentration on your part.
Might I suggest a Long Island Iced Tea?
At least, that's what I've heard.
Funny, I was just pondering that saying on the way to church this morning. 'Hair of the dog', that is. I was wondering if it had roots in folk medicine. Like if you got bit by a dog, you were supposed to rub some of the dog's hair in the bite to keep it from 'turning bad' (getting infected.) Or, if you got some of the dog's hair and slept with it under your pillow, it would ward off future dog bites - which might have a basis in fact. You know, people back then didn't wash very often - and it probably helped to smell like the dog so he would think you were his and not bite you...
Why was I wondering this on the way to church? I'm sure it had something to do with the vodka and cranberry juice I drank last night after my harrowing trip to the mall. What WAS I thinking....
I've made it to age 35 without ever getting drunk, never had a single hang over. I've seen them though, and that was good enough for me.
I do drink, just not in that kind of quantity, too expensive and painful.
I realize this makes me unamerican but I make up for it, as does Neva, by behaving ridiculously, and being uncoodinated everyday to the point of being indistinguishable from those who are wasted.
Just doing my part, no call for thanks.
Alright, off to burn some Christmas cookies, a regular part of the family holiday plan which is followed by a trip to the store to buy cookies for neighbors and friends, aaah, tradition.
I am cursed. Drinking makes my joints ache now. Have I got gout? Nooooooo.
I know what you mean Diesel, I gave up drinking to the drunk stage once I had kids... nothing worse than a hangover when some small child is shreeking their head off at 4 in the morning.
Joel - Aren't you glad I left that for you to say? It's your reward for being first.
Neva - I'm terribly uncoordinated as well, but getting drunk only helps in the sense that I don't care as much what I break or trip over.
Al - It's interesting the kind of tidbits that make their way to your cloister. Advice noted.
Robin - I'm sure it is something like that, but I still think the best "folk remedy" to prevent future dog bits is to hang the dog's head on your wall.
Logophile - I don't mean to ruin your image of me, but there's a reason this post is filed under "nonsense." I've drunk myself sick exactly once (I was 17 and foolishly tried to finish off a 2 liter wine cooler by myself), and I've had maybe 2 or 3 real hangovers. I learn from my mistakes. The only real truth here is that I do find it increasingly not worth the effort to get drunk.
Anonymous - I hear weed helps with that.
Kat - Thankfully I've never experienced that scenario, but I can see how it would make you alter your behavior. :)
Or you could whack off its dangly bits. I'm sure it would avoid you after that.
I crash about a half hour after getting a buzz. The only way around that is to stay one step ahead of the grim reaper with more alcohol. Lotsa fun when I was lotsa younger.
The only 'hair of the dog' that ever worked for me is a prescription percocet left over from my kidney stone episode. Now you're hung over and stoned. So you have another cup of coffee so you can be hung over, stoned, and alert. Thank you... no.
...sinners. The whole lot of you.
I've been drunk once...er, twice. It's not an experience I desire to repeat. I don't think anyone who saw me desires to repeat it either.
I learned the "beer before liquor" lesson the hard way.
Word Verification:
fcxbv (n?): A word I used repeatedly while inebriated; apparently tangentially related to chicken and Twizzlers.
I'm with Neva in the family lineage although not traced back to Gor. Probably Shane on a barstool in County Cork. It's not that I abstain totally, but close enough. Don't get me wrong, I have quite a few fun drunk stories and some probably not so fun.
But then again, with the family history and a family of my own, well there are no pretty drunks.
By the way, that was a very funny post now that I've gotten off my sanctimonious soapbox.
funny how things change when we get older...
and then there is drunk vs intoxicated ...ponder that!
Get a life. This is boring drivel. You have as much insight into your life and alcholism as an amobea.
Robin - LOL! That would keep me away, I'll tell you that much.
Joe - I think you gave up to soon. Maybe some valium would have evened it all out.
Gregory - Well I know I am. Not sure about the rest of these folks.
G - I'm glad you enjoyed it. And congrats on logging in!
Citymouse - I think which one you are depends on what you are trying to justify having done.
Anonymous - Yes, this IS boring drivel. Perhaps you were looking for Pointless Drivel down the street? That guy has insight coming out of his a**.
I've had my good and bad share of getting drunk. After I started dancing on table tops at bars, I knew it was time to scale back. And that was just last week! Kidding it was in my early 20's.
Now the only time I drink is to accompany or compliment my meal. A single beer or margaritta with Mexican otherwise my preference is a single glass of chardonnay. When I'm feeling wild and crazy I'll have two.
Gee thanks Diesel. I started off cracking up over your post and now I'm thoroughly depressed. ;)
I'm way too much of a cheapskate to pursue a "party" lifestyle. I'll just have the tap water, no lemon, please. ;)
Speaking of which, when did "partying" become synonymous with drinking? When I pull up to one of the nice women who stand on the street corners downtown and say, "Hey babe -- wanna party?", why can't it mean going back to my place to eat cake and play pin the tail on the donkey?
I'm officially reclaiming the phrase "partying" to encompass more innocent pursuits.
I hear weed helps with that
*sigh* the alcohol was supposed to replace the weed.
- the 1st anonymous
Sar - I really don't know how this degenerated into an AA meeting. Sorry.
Jess - I'm with you, buddy. Let's party!
Anonymous - Ah, so marijuana IS a gateway drug! I think you went through the gate the wrong way though.
Well, I personally thought the post AND the comments thoroughly entertaining. So blog that, Anonymous. Of course, I probably just opened myself up to more "how stupid can one girl be" comments, but that's okay. I'd rather be stupid than mean.
Thanks for the post, Diesel. I'm with Kat. Drunk with kids is bad.
fybujyyu -- what I tell my husband when I'm angry with him, drunk and can't think of an acceptable comeback. Preceeded by "Oh, yeah. Well . . . "
I don't think weed helps with gout but it DOES help with arthritis. Just sayin'....,
Anonymous (the second and inferior) can bite my big fat hiney. I AM an alcoholic and thought the post was funny and insightful.
BTW, I thought it was head on a plank?
arthritis? Now I don't know if this paranoia is from your diagnosis or the cheech and chong clouds of smoke hanging in the air. Jebus.