This is how my Dad tried to 'cure' my first real hangover (
he knew about)! I remember waking up bleary eyed with my head booming and my pink bedroom walls spinning.
"Here you are, love!' Dad was thrusting a fizzy drink concoction in my face, "Down in one!'
Isn't that what the boys had been yelling the previous night...?
As my memories flooded back to me of how my High School Christmas party had unfolded, I sheepishly obeyed. I couldn't see the folks letting me out ever again after this stunt, let alone fly off to Spain.
Barely 16, and crawling in through the front door on my hands and knees after decorating the insides of the taxi cab with a regurgitated lager and Christmas dinner slop......
Thank God my big bro had intercepted me staggering around the night club dance floor in my outrageously intoxicated state.
"Someone must have spiked me!" I pleaded 'not guilty'.
I've stood by that
whopper story for 16 years. Now I'm probably old enough and ugly enough to admit that I might just have been disgustingly drunk. There are only so many pints of lager a 120lb slip of a girl can chug in one night!
Only my best friend and her more 'mature' fella (the supplier) knew the truth.
I spent the next four weeks pleading my case for why my irresponsible little self should still be allowed to go to Spain the following summer with my friends (I'd be 17 by then), in spite of scaring my Mum and Dad half to death with my unconscious reflex projectile spewing.
They'd had to carry my limp carcass up to bed after debating whether a trip to the ER was in order.
Shockingly it wasn't the first time (except as far as my parents were concerned) and it wasn't the last.
It's only happened to me three (or four) times since, that dilapidated state of stinking arsed drunk. One time I know without a shadow of doubt that hard liquor was to blame, but the other two times - again I wouldn't' be surpised if Rohypnol was involved...
It hasn't happened for seven years.
The cure is resolve (not Resolve Extra - relief for headache & upset stomach) but the resolve not to get 'drunk' again.
I still drink, and often, and sometimes quite liberally.
But I don't get smashed, paralytic, shit-faced, wankered, off my face, fucked up, pissed, ratted, battered, wasted..... anymore.
My hubs gave me the resolve; the resolve to stop getting drunk and the resolve to stop smoking. At first I worried I was changing who I was for him. But he didn't ask me to change those things.
Instead he bought me flowers.
Seven years ago, I woke up with my last ever brutal kill-me-now hangover (not my last ever hangover) and he brought me flowers. I don't think he's ever brought me flowers since.
I was ashamed. He was neither impressed nor judgmental (yes, these two drinking camps exist). He was simply scared and concerned.
I was simply reckless. But that day I woke up. Thank you baby.
As per usual my blog post has veered off on a tangent. I was attempting a light-hearted introduction to my New Year's resolutions - but I guess the topic of drinking isn't all that funny these days.
But damn - it used to be! I must be getting old.
I remember a night out with my siblings in my twenties - sharing our hilarious early drinking stories. After I told the story about Dad getting me to 'down' the Resolve, my twin brother looked at me aghast and laughed.
"He did the same to me after I came home drunk for the first time!"
We'd both thrown that Resolve (along with the last bilious contents of our stomachs) straight back up into the bucket Dad had on stand-by
I've since read the label on the back.
Nowhere does it state you have to chug it. Sneaky git!
Again I digress.
I was hoping to tie this elaborate and somewhat revealing intro into my New Years' resolutions blog post. In a nut shell, I don't really have any, at least what I call, 'biggies'.
Trying to make a permanent change for the better is somewhat of a fallacy if the motivation is based on timing alone. If it was really worth doing last week wouldn't you have started then? And just because you missed the boat yesterday doesn't mean you should shit-can the whole idea until next year, right?
Saying that, it doesn't hurt that we think about making resolutions at New Year's Eve. But know this; most of you WILL fail.
I'm a realist, not a pessimist. I'll prove it, here's an exception:
The hubs put his cigarette down on New millenia's eve (January 1st, 2000, 12:01) and he hasn't picked one up since.
Why did he wait 'til then? I guess because it makes a much better story than mine:
I put my cigarette down the day I left Ecuador (with the hubs) and got on a boat - the hubs says it was definitely the 21st October 2003 (not that he minded me smoking, or anything...)
I haven't picked one up since.
Thinking about it now, I guess there IS a lot less incentive for me to keep that 'whatever' date......
Anyone got a Malborough light?
So instead of resolutions I'm going to finish off with my list of (not super well thought out) aspirations for 2013 (tomatoes, TOMATOES.... I know):
1. Become a hot-shot tweeter and earn myself more followers than McDonald's (or at least IHOP). Don't count on it
2. Trade our weekly trip to pizza hut for a monthly cleaner. Cannot predict now
3. Become uber courteous and polite to all of my blog commenters. I wouldn't ignore a real life human commenter, would I? (well, perhaps some I would) Better not tell you now
4. Lose all my baby-weight and then some. i.e be able to fit into my ugly tie-died (but forced to hold on to it for posterity) wedding dress by summer, AND dare to leave the house wearing it (no bulging zippers or pot belly) Outlook not so good
5. SAVE SOME MONEY! As I see it, yes
6. Hug my hubs as much as I hug the babies. Reply hazy, try again
7. Don't lose my iPhone. Concentrate and ask again
8. Have sex at least once a week - even if I'd rather be picking black heads. Very doubtful
9. Work harder to give a toss about Pinterest. My sources say no
10. Go to the BEACH!!!!! Outlook good
Ahem - in no way were these listed in order of priority.........