The Drunken Blog

I don’t really think of myself as a good writer. I’m very critical of what I write to the point that it becomes tedious and arduous to read, so generally I don’t read what I write. If I’m lucky I’ll proofread a story to make sure that while I was changing thoughts mid-sentence that I remembered to go back and make the rest of the sentence cohesive. Recently, however, I was forced to go back and read a story that I had written.

The story was about a housewarming party and it apparently made me some enemies. Somebody disliked that story enough to give me a mild death threat in the comments section. The reason that I went back to read that story is because I randomly ran into the person that sent me the death threat. Let me explain.
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Bamboozled is a fun word. It’s not so fun when you are on the receiving end of the bamboozlement, though. That’s what happened to me last week, rounding out a three day drinking fest starting on Thursday and culminating in me passing out at 6pm on Sunday.

The drinking fest started on Thursday. Thursday was the last day of my old job; I decided to give myself a whole three day weekend before starting my new job on Monday. Obviously I had to celebrate my last day. I left from work early, because what were they going to do, fire me? I left at about 4 (I know, it’s not even that early) and sat in traffic for about an hour until I got to Fairfax. I met up with my ex-girlfriend Kate, we actually both arrived at the same exact time, it was a little scary, if I’m going to be truthful here.

Just as a side note, taking Doug’s advice, I will be using actual pseudonyms for my acquaintances, as opposed to acronyms or made up words that are hard to follow, so no more New Friend Number 37. Also, these names will remain consistent between stories starting with this one; I’m even making a list of pseudonyms to which I can refer back.

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Saturday was pretty standard as far as graduations go. Both my sister and my cousin, who were born two days apart, graduated, which meant that all of my grandparents got a lot of bang for their buck. One trip down to Virginia Beach and they knocked out the last two high school graduations they will probably every see.

The event was typical in that the grandparents were there and my mom was stressed out over getting everything ready, while I vehemently avoided all work and social interactions with anybody over 47. Look, I used to live with my grandma, the amount that she talked to me while I was staying there should last me a life time.

The graduation was also a pretty standard affair. I found out that my alma mater was apparently a very good school, ranking among the top 3% of all high schools in the country. The valedictorian had a GPA of over 4.64, while the salutatorians (there were two of them with the same GPA) had GPAs of over 4.5. Just so you can get some perspective, Virginia Beach has an adjusted grading scale, where a 93 is a B. In an AP class an A is weighted as a 5 where as in all other classes an A is weighted as a 4. That means that over half of the classes (including classes like PE) the valedictorian took were AP classes, and he of course got straight A’s.

I also found out that just because you have a high GPA, it doesn’t necessarily make you smart, you could just be extremely motivated. This was pointed out by the fact that both salutatorians gave absolutely awful speeches. I had to remind myself that they were only in high school, which makes them as smart as college freshman. The valedictorian, on the other hand, actually gave an excellent speech.

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This weekend was my little sister’s high school graduation; she went to the same school that my older sister and I went to. My older sister, who lives in the Keys came up to visit me in DC on Thursday, we were going to drive down on Friday for the ceremony on Saturday.

I worked all day Thursday and I got home only to discover that my sister’s flight had been delayed. This was not such a bad thing it gave me more time to clean up my place. However, I didn’t get it as clean as I wanted to because we had company. And of course when company comes over, we have to drink. We made plans to go out after I picked up Sara from the airport, I would bring a 2 liter bottle of soda and a flask of rum and we would meet my friends out.

I picked up Sara from the airport and we went over to a friend’s house to pregame some more before we went out. Sara did not drink any of the rum; it made me cry a little on the inside. When we got to my friend’s house, Jeff was already there so we all continued to drink. Eventually we made it to Ned Devine’s, aka, Ned’s, aka Not-Ned’s, aka Auld Shebeen.

By this point I am drunk, but not wasted, although you wouldn’t be able to tell by my demeanor. You see, there was another X-Factor involved tonight – I had just got offered that new job. Yup, it was going to be one of those types of nights.

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It seems I get the drunkest when I don’t plan on it. If I plan, say on Monday, that on Friday I am going to drink myself stupid, something usually comes up that prevents that from happening. It can be anything. Maybe I stubbed my toe, so I’m in a bad mood. Maybe I’ve pumped up the event too much in my head, so I am disappointed by it. But when I don’t plan on drinking ad nauseam is when I end up getting the most wasted. And for the few times where I get supper hammered, there also has to be the X-factor.

The X-factor is a wily beast. It is a rare phenomenon that just makes you drink, you feel compelled to drink, you become very sociable, and suddenly able to handle your alcohol very well – until you reach a certain level, at which point you just fall apart. The first X-factor that I remember was when I was in a minor car accident. I was really pissed off because of it and so I went out drinking that night and I got absolutely tanked. But, it was exactly what I needed to relieve the stress of the day, and even though I was hungover the next day, it was worth it.

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While on Liberty Square Rounds, Set II, Resident Advisor (hereinafter, RA)

Humbertson and RA Shah approached 2nd Floor, D Wing, RA Humbertson and RA

Shah could hear the sound of ping-pong balls bouncing accompanied by

laughing. RA Humbertson identified the location of the sounds coming from

LS, D205. RA Humbertson and RA Shah stopped and RA Humbertson Knocked. (more…)

A recent event reminded me of something that happened while I was in Vegas.  If you read the last line I very faintly imply that I went home with a girl.  You probably didn’t pick up on that, and that’s because I didn’t want you to, but the part that I omitted was the best part of the story.  But first let me tell you what prompted me to recall this story.

The other night, on our weekly have-girls-come-over-and-cook-for-us night, which is a Monday, we actually cooked for the girls.  The weather was awesome and since the girls cook so much for us, and they cook so well, we decided to repay the favor.  Of course, being guys the only thing we can cook is meat, and the only way we can cook it is on the grill.  So I went out and bought some steaks.  They were about $10 each, and I bought eight of them.  I was in a bit of shock at my lack of math abilities when I got to the register and realized that eight times ten is $80.

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Read part 1 here.

As I mentioned before, Jeff was extremely irritated at high school kids. Luckily, he would only remember that he was upset when he actually saw high school kids. Unfortunately, they were everywhere. Eventually his hate subsided, due mostly to alcohol and its ability to make you forget what you were thinking.

After the grill incident, Jeff got a call from a girl. We tried to locate her; all the while I was trying to figure out who this mystery girl was. Her name didn’t ring a bell, and Jeff seemed unable to describe her. In fact, he didn’t really remember her either. In addition to this, we didn’t know where she was. We had a general idea of her whereabouts, but nothing concrete. I pointed out to Jeff that it might be hard to find this girl since we don’t know where she is and even if we did find her car, we wouldn’t be able to recognize her. Some random guy walking by agreed with me so we gave up on our search.

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I learned an important life lesson last night. Several actually, but the biggest is that just because a place has a bar in it does not make the entire place worthy of the title “bar”. For instance, last night I went to a lounge, which had a bar in it, but it definitely was not a bar.

The entire night was an interesting experience. I had to work late on a Friday and I had to be at work on Saturday, as well. So as soon as I got home around 7 I started drinking. Then I played some Guitar Hero, which happens to be my game of the moment. I noticed that the more that I drank the lower my scores got. Imagine that. It was funny because I could actually feel my coordination leaving me. I would see the note come across the screen. I would know which button to push, I would tell my finger to push that button, but somewhere in between the message was lost.

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For the next two months, I’ll be taking a course for work in Oklahoma. Lawton was my destination, making it about 900 miles from my destination in Kentucky to Oklahoma. I knocked out the first 500 miles on Friday, then set out for the remainder this morning. It was a pretty boring day on I-44 West. There were cars on the road, but nothing one from a populated area would consider traffic.I had just hit the Oklahoma/Missouri border. The first town in Oklahoma was Miami. Not to be let down by Miami, OK, it had lots of colorful billboards displaying all the exciting tourist traps in the town. I wasn’t biting. I had no interest but to get on to my destination. But that all changed. (more…)