So, this is super embarrassing, but I'm preserving it for my own records. And for wow, idiot, sympathy.
My friend Gina came up here tonight. We started at about 9 o'clock at the local bar. Dollar rum and cokes started at ten, so I had an amaretto sour to start off. Then Gina's mom texted us from another bar saying to come see her, she'd buy us a drink. We went, except Gina's mom, her friend, and a girl I went to high school with were all there. They ALL bought be drinks, so I had two huge shot-things, and a Mike's Hard Cranberry.
We left that bar and went back to the one that we started at and I started with a double rum and coke. Then a whiskey sour. Then two more rum and cokes. I was drinking basically the same as Gina and DAMN, has that girl got a liver on her. She was okay and I was drunk. So we left the bar, and her parents own a pizza place, so we decided to go there to get something to eat. We got there, I was okay. I was like, totally drunk, but okay. It was about 11 by then, so I'd drunk all of that in like, two hours, maybe a bit more.
Then I went out for a cigarette and sat down along the wall of the pizza place. Then I decided to lay down and had extreme difficulty getting up. I ate one french fry and ran for the bathroom. I spent about an hour in there, first throwing up, then just lying there, contemplating how one stands when one is that miserably wasted. Finally, Gina came in, and her dad helped me get up. She drove me home (I think she'd sobered up some by then), and when I got home, she put me on the couch in our living room and called for my mom.
Then my poor, martyr of a mother held my hair back as I vomited, shook like a leaf for about an hour, and insisted my dad call the hospital to make sure I wasn't dying of alcohol poisoning (I wasn't). I probably spent an hour and a half at least with my eyes closed but unable to pass out, from lying down on the pizza place's bathroom floor till an hour after I'd gotten home, people were just leading me around. Poor people who give a shit about me. I'm better now, though surprisingly still drunk. (It's 4:30. I stopped drinking at LEAST five hours ago. And I'm still drunk.)
Lessons learned:
1) I really am a lightweight.
2) Pace self. Pace self, Meg. Slow down. Just because you can pound it with the best of them doesn't mean it won't catch up to you.
3) You knew that being sick wasn't cool. Why did you do this to yourself?
ETA: I have sobered up enough that writing this post wasn't overly difficult. But walking is hard.