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Nov. 6th, 2004 08:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycolI...
Oh, god. I'm going teetotal. There is MUD on my COAT and my DAD had to take my SHOES off and I had to go to WORK and I SOBERED UP in work and I think I asked for drugs at one point.
I think I should start this in the proper order. But I feel all sick inside. So I'll try and put off the bad bits.
Went into college on Friday morning. And the first bit of amazing and scary and wonderful news is thus:
Congratulations to Laura Woods on the birth of her baby son, Jack Martin Woods!
Yes, Laura hasspawned given birth and is the first person I know well to have given birth. We're all a bit shellshocked and we all feel very old. What was sweet was that the teacher who's room we crash in gave us a fiver and told us to buy her a card. It's all very odd.
So, that was my day, or all of importance - Laura's a teenage mum! Argh!
Came home, ate some toast and out I went again. Whilst waiting for everyone, some tosser came up and asked "How much, love?"
I glared. "Fuck you!"
Realised what I'd just said and ran for it. This is what comes from wearing heels. NEVER AGAIN.
So, met everyone and we sauntered down the the Buck. It was a nice evening - I drank a little bit, discussed politics with people, met new people. (Who at one point I informed that I'd seen them around college, and they looked really cool.) Except I was drinking doubles, and I hadn't actually eaten that night.
I remember spilling the beer. It all started going rather horribly wrong.
This post should have a lot more in it. Except I can't actually remember much more. I remember the world spinning, and how falling over seemed like a much more sensible idea. Except it was in mud, so byebye beige coat. I remember apologising a lot. I remember talking to Clare on the phone - something to do with Philippa's birthday? Maybe? I remember being on the dance floor at the shamefully empty Comrades, as Phil's band were - probably - good. I remember lying at the skate park literally howling at people and I remember being more or less carried home. And I remember Dad taking my shoes off. And that's it.
A good evening, really.
I just feel so embarrassed. There's drunk and there's paraletic, which is what I was. I said some very stupid things (at one point I howled "I WANT TO TRY DRUGS!" apparently) and I made a fool of myself. As such, I'm going teetotal for the next few nights out, to remember what it feels like. What happened to the girl who used to purposefully not drink to keep an eye on the silly people who couldn't get home? That stupid person was me, and Jess and Day and Danny had to take me home. Carry me home, more or less. And that's stupid, and it's irresponsible and I feel really angry with myself. And I don't think I've ruined any friendships, as heaven knows I've drunksat before, but according to Jess they were considering phoning someone to help them out with me, which is really rather bad.
So on Monday I am going to take my laughing at with good grace. Jess finds me funny and forgives me, and I haven't spoken to anyone else yet. As I said, I feel sick just thinking about it.
Actually, I woke up this morning feeling sick because of the horrible, horrible hangover. It was just when little flashes started to come back to me that I felt worse and giggled in a sort of horror struck manner. According to Mu, I did fall over. The exchange, apparently, went like this:
MUM: Colleen, there is mud all over you! Why?
COLLEEN: I FELL OVER! *giggles*
MUM: Why is it everywhere?
COLLEEN: Dunno... wheeee... I think I rolled a bit.
Oh, god. The shame. My head was throbbing unbelieveably badly but Mum forced food down me and I went to work and popped one paracetamol every two hours. It got bad at two - I think that was when the last of the vodka left my bloodstream, as I suddenly went very woozy and a supervisor noticed "Oooh, you look pale." I didn't answer as I thought I would have chucked up all over her. This said, I still maintain my record of never, ever being sick from alcohol.
Tomorrow I have to do my English, go to training, go to driving, go back to training, come home, make food, invite Clare and try not feel barefoot and pregnant. This will be the second time in a week that I have cooked for us both, and heaven help me, I'm quite enjoying it.
So, yes. I am Colleen, the reformed alcoholic. Mum came and made me smell vodka and I actually retched. Ugh. This is so pathetic. I have proved my point, I have learnt my lesson and this is what comes of pushing your limits just cos you know that you finally CAN do something.
I really, seriously, feel ashamed of myself. I don't think I'll go and see anyone on Monday morning. When I was still quite sober I made a video to my politics class, and I remember them threatening with some realism to send it to Elaine and Dave.
Please, god, no. I will take my consequences but that is too, too far. I shall be happy in my solace that whatever said while that pissed is either unintelligable or probably not legally binding.
~Hathy_Col~
Oh, god. I'm going teetotal. There is MUD on my COAT and my DAD had to take my SHOES off and I had to go to WORK and I SOBERED UP in work and I think I asked for drugs at one point.
I think I should start this in the proper order. But I feel all sick inside. So I'll try and put off the bad bits.
Went into college on Friday morning. And the first bit of amazing and scary and wonderful news is thus:
Congratulations to Laura Woods on the birth of her baby son, Jack Martin Woods!
Yes, Laura has
So, that was my day, or all of importance - Laura's a teenage mum! Argh!
Came home, ate some toast and out I went again. Whilst waiting for everyone, some tosser came up and asked "How much, love?"
I glared. "Fuck you!"
Realised what I'd just said and ran for it. This is what comes from wearing heels. NEVER AGAIN.
So, met everyone and we sauntered down the the Buck. It was a nice evening - I drank a little bit, discussed politics with people, met new people. (Who at one point I informed that I'd seen them around college, and they looked really cool.) Except I was drinking doubles, and I hadn't actually eaten that night.
I remember spilling the beer. It all started going rather horribly wrong.
This post should have a lot more in it. Except I can't actually remember much more. I remember the world spinning, and how falling over seemed like a much more sensible idea. Except it was in mud, so byebye beige coat. I remember apologising a lot. I remember talking to Clare on the phone - something to do with Philippa's birthday? Maybe? I remember being on the dance floor at the shamefully empty Comrades, as Phil's band were - probably - good. I remember lying at the skate park literally howling at people and I remember being more or less carried home. And I remember Dad taking my shoes off. And that's it.
A good evening, really.
I just feel so embarrassed. There's drunk and there's paraletic, which is what I was. I said some very stupid things (at one point I howled "I WANT TO TRY DRUGS!" apparently) and I made a fool of myself. As such, I'm going teetotal for the next few nights out, to remember what it feels like. What happened to the girl who used to purposefully not drink to keep an eye on the silly people who couldn't get home? That stupid person was me, and Jess and Day and Danny had to take me home. Carry me home, more or less. And that's stupid, and it's irresponsible and I feel really angry with myself. And I don't think I've ruined any friendships, as heaven knows I've drunksat before, but according to Jess they were considering phoning someone to help them out with me, which is really rather bad.
So on Monday I am going to take my laughing at with good grace. Jess finds me funny and forgives me, and I haven't spoken to anyone else yet. As I said, I feel sick just thinking about it.
Actually, I woke up this morning feeling sick because of the horrible, horrible hangover. It was just when little flashes started to come back to me that I felt worse and giggled in a sort of horror struck manner. According to Mu, I did fall over. The exchange, apparently, went like this:
MUM: Colleen, there is mud all over you! Why?
COLLEEN: I FELL OVER! *giggles*
MUM: Why is it everywhere?
COLLEEN: Dunno... wheeee... I think I rolled a bit.
Oh, god. The shame. My head was throbbing unbelieveably badly but Mum forced food down me and I went to work and popped one paracetamol every two hours. It got bad at two - I think that was when the last of the vodka left my bloodstream, as I suddenly went very woozy and a supervisor noticed "Oooh, you look pale." I didn't answer as I thought I would have chucked up all over her. This said, I still maintain my record of never, ever being sick from alcohol.
Tomorrow I have to do my English, go to training, go to driving, go back to training, come home, make food, invite Clare and try not feel barefoot and pregnant. This will be the second time in a week that I have cooked for us both, and heaven help me, I'm quite enjoying it.
So, yes. I am Colleen, the reformed alcoholic. Mum came and made me smell vodka and I actually retched. Ugh. This is so pathetic. I have proved my point, I have learnt my lesson and this is what comes of pushing your limits just cos you know that you finally CAN do something.
I really, seriously, feel ashamed of myself. I don't think I'll go and see anyone on Monday morning. When I was still quite sober I made a video to my politics class, and I remember them threatening with some realism to send it to Elaine and Dave.
Please, god, no. I will take my consequences but that is too, too far. I shall be happy in my solace that whatever said while that pissed is either unintelligable or probably not legally binding.
~Hathy_Col~
