Wasted
Monday, June 02, 2014 @ 6:09 PM | 0 comment(s)

For the first time in my life, I got wasted. I got so wasted all my memories from the night were hazy.

For the record: I’m not alcoholic. I drink occasionally. I don’t drink every night or whenever I have a problem. I drink lightly and maybe get tipsy. But that’s just how far I go – tipsiness. But this last weekend, I seem to have bended my rules and forgotten what prudence is and all hell broke loose.

For the record, again: I didn’t lose my virginity or made out with someone or did something I would regret and would scar me forever. What I realized from this wasted episode was that I am the best well-functioning drunk ever. I was perfectly capable of handling myself. Maybe I wasn’t totally wasted. Maybe I was just hovering in between. But for the life of me, I have no idea what it feels like to be totally wasted. So I’m guessing not remembering things in the morning is considered part of it. I got drunk. I got wasted. And it feels so fucking great.


I know he wouldn’t like me broadcasting what happened, but it was actually my best friend who got very, very much wasted. He got too drunk he threw up and passed out. From what I’ve accumulated from the witnesses, the puking episode was scary and funny and very epic. I swear I can’t remember anything from that point on. The bits I can get were that of my best friend being carried off and myself wiping him clean while he was half naked. The taking-care-of-best-friend part was the reason why I think I’m the “best well-functioning drunk ever”. I can’t recall everything, but from what others have told me, I basically transformed into a mother dotting on a very messed up son. I cleaned him up; scolded him even though he’s unconscious; got rid of what came out his mouth when under normal circumstances I wouldn’t dare do such thing (I can’t remember the smell or even the disgust I must have felt – and for that I am eternally grateful); and washed the dirty clothes clean. The most amazing thing was that, despite feeling like my body was flying off somewhere, I still was able to remember what proper hygiene was. I woke up the next morning with a funny taste in my mouth, a funny taste that will only be relieved by a good tooth brushing. But I couldn’t find my toothbrush to save my life. I was so upset that I left it at home or lost it somewhere. It was sad that I’d spend the whole day with tartar and a bad breath. I went back to where we slept and there I found what I was looking for! And it was wet! So that meant I was able to brush my teeth last night. Can you believe that?! I didn’t forget to brush my teeth! I don’t have memories of me brushing my teeth, but that must be a feat considering I was probably dizzy and tired from all the commotion. I am so proud of myself.

When I heard all of these the next morning, I came into the conclusion that I was more or less possessed during my best friend’s puking scene. Maybe that’s why I can’t recall any memory or sensation. The only bit I can get was me finally lying down and letting sleep take over. It’s so awesome. Most of the time, when I go to sleep really tired, I’m having a hard time settling down; my brain just wouldn’t calm its horses. But that night, man, I can remember the moment my head hit the pillow, I automatically passed out. Yes, I was probably possessed.


It was a very epic experience. It was the first time I got really drunk and I didn’t cry or throw tantrums or make a scene. I learned that when I’m drunk, I become really opinionated and involve myself in heated arguments. I say whatever pops out off my head unfiltered. And I would say, “Is this a dream? It feels like I’m in a dream.” I felt so detached from the world, like I wasn’t a person anymore but one of the many stars that night, watching everything from above (okay, okay, this has got to be the shittiest thing I’ve ever written). From what I’ve heard, I was still able to play the 2048 Tile game on someone’s phone. And my drunk-debate buddy, Jerome, said “I’m smarter than you when drunk! You’re so stupid when drunk!” when I couldn’t get past a 2Fuse level. I would say I’m a much better drunk than others. I am so damn proud of myself for that. It’s weird. I don’t remember every single thing, but I love this memory.

You know what I also learned? Hangover’s a bitch. (I swear someone was bludgeoning my head nonstop.) And you know what, again? I was probably the first person to get up the next day. Sometimes I just can’t understand myself.

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a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409