November 13, 2008 7:00 am
In order to keep up with this NappyBlowMe thing I singed up for, DeeMarie over at My Life In A Nutshell and I decided to share the stories of our first drunken experiences. DeeMarie’s story involved being told to pack her things when confronted by her dad the next morning. Be sure to check it out.
Although some of you have previously stated that you DIDN’T think I was a goody two-shoes during my high school years, I sort of was. I managed to make it through them without ever partaking in any drugs or alcohol. Seriously not even a cigarette touched my lips. When I applied for colleges my senior year, I got into all four state schools that I had applied for. My friends all went to the University of Florida but I chose not to go there for a very specific reason. Several of my older friends had already gone and dropped out of UF because it was such a party school. They all got sucked up in the drinking vortex and I was afraid I would be next. Instead, I went to the smaller, closer University of Central Florida which was an hour and a half away should I need to run home to my parents.
After I graduated from high school, I spent the summer working as much as possible to put away money for school. My parents didn’t have money to pay for college so I took out student loans and worked to pay for the rest. This kept my nose pretty clean since I was always working and being responsible and all of that lame crap. The summer rolled by without any incidents until the night before I moved away. I went to my friend David’s house a couple of blocks over to say goodbye. David was one of the UF drunken dropouts and had moved back home to his parent’s house. He liked to poke fun of my good girl routine and was always trying to get me to drink a beer with him. I secretly had a crush on David and really wanted to impress him so that night when he asked if I wanted a beer, I said yes. He was so shocked at my response and quickly ran to get me a Natty Lite. Mmmm, nothing like a cold Natty Lite for your first alcoholic beverage. All eyes were on me so I chugged the damn thing (it was NASTY). Then I asked for another. And another. We finished off the beer and moved onto strawberry daiquiris. Suddently I wasn’t feeling so well so I had David walk me home.
When we got to my house, it was pretty late but the lights were still on. I snuck into the house doing my best “I’m sober” routine. My dad was asleep on the couch and as I walked down the hallway I saw my mom sitting in her bed reading a book. She looked at me suspiciously (I was a good fifteen feet from her) and said “what are you doing?”. “Nothing,” I said. “Then why are your eyes bloodshot?” (Seriously how the hell could she see my eyes from that far away?) “Cuz I was drinkin!” I giggled. Bad move on my part. My poor mom immediately broke into tears and went on and on about how I was going to move away to college and be an alcoholic and ruin my life. I ended up being the one to console her even though MY room was spinning.
I paid dearly for my binge drinking when I woke up the next morning. I spent a good portion of the morning huddled over the toilet praying to the porcelain gods. The saying “beer before liquor, never sicker?” That saying is absolutely true. To this day, I still can’t drink strawberry daiquiris, just thinking about them makes me gag. I went off to college the next day and began my adult life with a bitchin hangover. Although there were many other nights I regret, I never did turn into the dreaded alcoholic. My mother is actually proud of the person I turned out to be.