If I titled my posts this would be called “Brushes with Drunkness”.

It began last weekend when I went to my brother’s Octoberfest party. (Oh yeah, that’s a healthy social choice for someone on the mend but I was, via the obfuscated politics of family, obligated to go. So I went.) I spent several uncomfortable hours watching the men in my family get drunk while the women in my family rolled their eyes and got slightly less drunk. Good times. Despite the copious flow of intoxicants, I wasn’t tempted. In fact, I just wanted to leave.

My second brush with drunkness happened last night. I played cards with some friends. Or rather, I played cards with a friend and his girlfriend and his girlfriend’s friend. And lucky for everyone, girlfriend decided to get wasted. At first it was amusing but she kept going. Let me add that I never wanted to be one of those self – righteous, “drinking is evil, you should be sober like me” types. I try to have a live and let live attitude. If someone wants to drown the uvula, who am I to judge. God knows I’ve done it enough. But OMG! (in the parlance of today’s youth) this women drove me up a wall. She spit out nonstop word salad. I wanted to slip her a roofie just so she’d shut the fuck up. I don’t think she even had time to breathe between her relentless snippets of drivel. To say she almost drove me to drink would be a lie. To say she almost drove me to murder would be closer to the truth. (No, I’m not homocidal I’m just trying to make a point.) Perhaps it bothered me so much because I used to be like that. Yet there I was, sober as a newborn, watching the ugliness of former me play out in dolby sound. How poetic. How sad.

For two weekends in a row I’ve been smacked in the face with drunk people. It’s been a blessing. Seriously, that wasn’t sarcastic. It’s been a blessing because it’s strengthened my resolve. At this point I’m not worried about caving in to temptation, I’m worried about complacency. I fear that at some point I’m going to say, “I can have a drink. I’ve got this thing licked.” But my latest brushes with drunkness have reminded me just how ridiculous and defeating that attitude can be. I guess I owe my drunk relatives and my buddy’s wasted girlfriend a debt of gratitude. 

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