So, I got drunk last week, at the apartment with the Curly Haired Wonder (accomplice to all my grandest adventures).
Okay. I wasn’t drunk, but I was a few steps past tipsy, and while I was there I discovered some things about myself.
First: I am a happy drunk. Y’all think I’m giggly when I’m sober; it was ridiculous. Everything was funny (except it really wasn’t, and the less vocal part of recognized that).
Second: I’m loud. I mean — again — that’s something we all already know, am I right?
Third: I don’t like being drunk. Actually, I don’t think I mind being drunk. But I don’t enjoy the journey from sober to drunk, because there’s a definite line you cross from one to the other. I don’t like being anywhere near that line, mostly because I have control issues, and you choose to give up any and all control when you’re drunk. So the whole time I had alcohol running through me, there were two characteristics waging war: the control freak, and the fun-lover.
The stress of having to let go of my inhibitions causes too much stress to make being drunk worth it. So that’s something.
I just got back to the apartment from working the Science and Engineering Fair of Houston, which was one of those amazing experiences that I’m so glad I’m getting to take part in while I’m here — the fast pace and meeting people and discovering new things about campus.
It’s pretty rad.
That’s all I’ve got.