Friday, May 8, 2009
Irish Trash Can Meets Voldemort
I think I've been reading too much Harry Potter. Or, I'm just going crazy. Last night, due to all the rain mentioned in yesterday's post, our Thursday night kickball game was canceled. But that did not stop us from heading to our sponsor bar anyways. This was after I had already shared a bottle (or 2) of wine with teammates at another bar. By the time I got into the city, I was feeling pretty happy.
Mere hours later I was a complete drunken fool. I've never in my life "blacked out" or completely forgot parts of an evening. I always thought people who said that were lying. Yes, there have been fuzzy nights, but I've always remembered parts of it. Last night after a certain point I remember nothing! Luckily I was with good friends who made sure I made it home safely (physically). However, after hearing a recap of my antics last night, I really feel ashamed and embarrassed for losing control and not realizing I'd hit my tipping point. The feeling of not remembering is scary!
I didn't DO anything stupid, I was just talking nonsense (or so I was told). Apparently, among other things, I started acting like I was living in Harry Potter world, calling people The Dark Lord. At one point (as retold by my friend) I said something like "Don't you dare bring him up!" My friends assumed I was talking about some heart breaker guy, to which I responded very seriously "No, Voldemort!"
I mean, really, who starts talking about novels when they are three sheets to the wind? Apparently me. Why couldn't' I have been quoting something more legit, like Shakespeare or something. Why is this how my subconscious works?
Lesson of the evening: NEVER drink an Irish trash can.