Chicklet
plays well with self
- Joined
- Apr 8, 2002
- Posts
- 12,302
I can't hold my alchohol very well.
For one thing, I don't drink often. Maybe one beer or glass of wine a month, and that only for the last year. Before it was probably one or two glasses a year. For another thing, I'm tiny. I'm five feet tall, and I don't weigh very much. So I'm as lightweight as you can get, really. It doesn't take much to tip me over the edge of "buzzed" to "drunk."
I got drunk Monday night.
I was feeling really, really good about myself. And a little bit slutty, too. Got all dressed up in a skirt (this is VERY unusual for me... I mainly only own skirts because my Ex loved the easy accessibility they gave him, but since I only ever saw him twice a month, I would only end up wearing a skirt once a month.) So, cute skirt, thigh high socks, skimpy top and spiffy knee high boots. I was feeling GOOD. So when I got invited out to the bar with one of the guys I've been throwing flirts back and forth with, I accepted, and proceeded to match him in glasses of beer.
There are vague memories of him filling my glass up again and again. And I drank as much as he did, and he's over six feet tall, and not really heavy but not skinny.
So, yeah, I was goooood and drunk. He drove me home, and I invited him in. I didn't want sex, but I wanted company. We watched some movies and I babbled at him in drunk talk. In my underwear.
I don't remember exactly what we talked about, but now I have these little bits of information... like, I know he's circumsized. And I know that after he told me, I said "Mike was circumsized." Mike being my ex. In fact, I know I said a lot of things about Mike to him. Mike this Mike that Mike Mike Mike Mike.
We had an extremely cuddly night together... but that might just have been because I'm cuddly and I insisted. I don't know if he actually WANTED to cuddle, but he stayed and he let me. And in the morning he took off while I was brushing my teeth. I haven't seen him since.
Last night I was having a little text message conversation with him, asking what the embarrassing things I did were, and he confessed that I called him Mike.
I called him Mike, while he was in my bed. Multiple times. I bit him and muttered my ex boyfriends name.
Ugh.
I think that I want to crawl into a hole, and possibly curl up there to die. In the cold. Without any coffee. As that is what I deserve.
Plus this morning I got a package from Hickory Farms without any message of who it could have been sent from = \
For one thing, I don't drink often. Maybe one beer or glass of wine a month, and that only for the last year. Before it was probably one or two glasses a year. For another thing, I'm tiny. I'm five feet tall, and I don't weigh very much. So I'm as lightweight as you can get, really. It doesn't take much to tip me over the edge of "buzzed" to "drunk."
I got drunk Monday night.
I was feeling really, really good about myself. And a little bit slutty, too. Got all dressed up in a skirt (this is VERY unusual for me... I mainly only own skirts because my Ex loved the easy accessibility they gave him, but since I only ever saw him twice a month, I would only end up wearing a skirt once a month.) So, cute skirt, thigh high socks, skimpy top and spiffy knee high boots. I was feeling GOOD. So when I got invited out to the bar with one of the guys I've been throwing flirts back and forth with, I accepted, and proceeded to match him in glasses of beer.
There are vague memories of him filling my glass up again and again. And I drank as much as he did, and he's over six feet tall, and not really heavy but not skinny.
So, yeah, I was goooood and drunk. He drove me home, and I invited him in. I didn't want sex, but I wanted company. We watched some movies and I babbled at him in drunk talk. In my underwear.
I don't remember exactly what we talked about, but now I have these little bits of information... like, I know he's circumsized. And I know that after he told me, I said "Mike was circumsized." Mike being my ex. In fact, I know I said a lot of things about Mike to him. Mike this Mike that Mike Mike Mike Mike.
We had an extremely cuddly night together... but that might just have been because I'm cuddly and I insisted. I don't know if he actually WANTED to cuddle, but he stayed and he let me. And in the morning he took off while I was brushing my teeth. I haven't seen him since.
Last night I was having a little text message conversation with him, asking what the embarrassing things I did were, and he confessed that I called him Mike.
I called him Mike, while he was in my bed. Multiple times. I bit him and muttered my ex boyfriends name.
Ugh.
I think that I want to crawl into a hole, and possibly curl up there to die. In the cold. Without any coffee. As that is what I deserve.
Plus this morning I got a package from Hickory Farms without any message of who it could have been sent from = \