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A Very Sober Thanksgiving

I know it's a bit late, but better late than never, I suppose.

The weekend before Thanksgiving, I had 20 alcoholic beverages. The Monday before Thanksgiving, I had a beer and half a bottle of wine. Needless to say, by the time Thursday rolled around, I was boozed out. (Yeah, I was shocked, too. I mean, all that alcohol....How could I possibly be boozed out?! What do you mean that wasn't what surprised you? Heh, and you think you know me....)

So I decided to have a dry Thanksgiving. That and the fact that 1)booze has mega-ass-pumping-calories and 2)it really can't be good for me to consume so much ethanol. So I didn't have a drop at the Thanksgiving party at Kelsye and Matt's.

And I discovered the worst thing: I am incapable of prolonged social interaction without booze.

Matt and Dan and I were relegated to the "kiddie table." Dan got up to get more food at one point, and I couldn't think of a single thing to talk to Matt about. Nothing. I kept fishing around the pond in my brain and it must have been deer season because no matter how many times I shot into that pool, nothing came out. Total blank. We ate in silence. Matt must have snagged something in his fishing net because he finally asked me about music and I thought, "Genius! Music! Yes, let's talk about music! Why didn't I think of that?!" because it was hell of a lot better than anything I'd thought of. (What I'd thought of = nothing.)

Later on, I got sucked into a bizarre conversation with a drunk Eric and normal Kara (she's a total poster-girl for lobotomy--no frontal lobes on that one) that involved body-sculpting and instructions in shoulder-massage (I am the shoulder-massage master). But it's not really hard to have a conversation with Kara--she could keep herself going for weeks, I think. And it was somewhere in that time frame that my dependency on booze occurred to me. And it frightened me. Am I really so lame? Am I so gimp that I can't keep talking without ethanol in my blood to loosen my tongue? That's a really horrifying thought. What happened to that packet of pinch questions I used to carry around in the back of my brain? Is it just that I know everybody well enough that those perfunctory, chatty questions are useless?

At about 10pm--an hour after I had told myself I'd go home--I found myself alone along a side wall. A real-life wallflower. At a fucking Thanksgiving party. How sad. So I took my leave.

And thought about my new booze problem for the next 2 days.

On the second day, it occurred to me that maybe my problem wasn't that I'm socially impaired, but rather that I was really freaking exhausted that day. I had pulled a packed 10-hour day, teaching 5 classes, and I had run home to frantically cut up canned fruit and make a half-assed fruit salad for the Thanksgiving dinner. I was so tired, I really didn't have the energy for thought, much less conversation. I've had similar problems on both of my outings with Shinya, and, again, I think it's because we've gone out after I've had an insanely long day. And it's hard to keep your brain going when it's time for bed. (That's why people usually have sex before bed. It's too late to talk.) ^_~

So I've decided that I'm not dependent on alcohol. That's the first step that every alcoholic must go through on their way to true alcoholism. You think I'm kidding, but I'm only half-kidding. I like booze. A LOT. And that worries me from time to time. Neither of my parents abused alcohol (after I was born, anyway), and I'm really, really thankful for that. (Might as well hop the Thanksgiving bandwagon like everybody else.) But booze makes me feel really good. I can't think of a better way to wind down on a Friday night after working like a dog all week than to liquor up (unless I have to work on Saturday, too). I have definitely decided to lighten up on the beer-guzzling (I'll write that beer entry one of these days, I swear), but it's hard to resist a good chu-hai, especially the low-cal ones they have now. They're less sweet than the regular ones. (Any day now I'm going to work my way down to G&T with a twist. Then just G with a twist.)

But I think I might try out my "it's exhaustion, not lack of booze" theory over winter break. If I can have fun without ethanol in my blood, then I'll know I'm okay.

::hoping the fish bite::

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