December 23, 2008

The Best Day, Continued.

There's something I'd like to talk about because I'm, well, confused on this issue.

Last night, after the horrible day I had, I had a few more drinks than usual. Now, before I had my drinks, I had about fifteen chicken wings and a few slices of pizza, so there at least was something to sop up the alcohol. I wake up today, and I'm not hungover, even though there are a select few of my friends that are hating life this afternoon.

Which leads me to wonder: What am I doing with high alcohol tolerance?

All of my high school friends drank when they were very young.

I didn't.

I was usually grounded for something stupid like washing the dishes wrong or forgetting to clean up the dog poop. I was in my room, playing guitar, wondering why I felt like such a bad child. I never really "partied" when I was in high school.

The group of "hockey guys" had parents that purchased beer for them and their friends, as long as they drank it at that parent's house and nowhere else. Nearing our high school graduation, from what I hear, they started having parties with beer bought for them by the local college kids that they were friends with.

To each his own -- I used to really hate that about the group of friends I was attached to, despised it, wished bad things on them, and I'm not afraid to say that. But now, I'm not angry about that. As a matter of fact, I feel like I'm the least angry I've ever been in my entire life.

I had my first alcoholic drink on New Years Eve when I was 20. I was trying harder and harder to fit in with the only friends I had, and I thought that I was turning 21 that year so it couldn't hurt. I wasn't driving, nothing like that. Harmless little vodka and juice or something or other. It tasted like crap, to be honest.

That fall, I was introduced to Mikes Hard Lemonades by way of trickery...I was told they had very low alcohol content because they were mostly sugar. Six in a half hour time later, I was officially drunk for the first time, and I felt like a complete asshole. Acted like one too, from what I remember.

I didn't drink but maybe once or twice a year for a long, long time. The most dangerous night I ever had was being out in downtown Erie one Saturday night about five years ago with my fellow Sears tool salesmen, and it was one of my "fitting in" nights so they were shoveling me stuff to drink like crazy. I know we were at Sherlocks but I sorta don't remember where else. And yes, we actually had a designated driver, so there's no horror stories, take it easy, Mom and Dad.

The next morning, I woke up and was fine. Hangover? My friend Marc had less than I did, and he wasn't able to make it into work. Really confused me. Someone suggested I had a high tolerance for alcohol...but I wondered, how is that possible? Isn't 'tolerance' something that is built up?

During my relationship with Amanda, we've had a few nights where we've both had a few more than we should have, but we've always been smart enough to think ahead and plan accordingly to ensure we got home safely.

A few weeks back, I wrote a blog about "changing my life" and doing things so that I wouldn't be saying in ten years that I should have done things when I was 28 and not trying to be cool closing in on forty. That night, I went out to celebrate a good hotel inspection with a few of my friends and I had a couple shots of something I don't remember what, and the next morning I had a pounding headache, didn't want to get out of bed, it was horrifying. Amanda did too.

So I can have hangovers, it does happen, but if I think back long enough, I only remember "hating the morning" three times in my entire life.

Here I am, 1:30 in the afternoon, after a restless night where I didn't sleep very well, and I'm fine. No stomachaches, no headache, nothing. Amanda suggested that I have a high tolerance.

I still can't help thinking, how?

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