Dinner With Friends....

Last night, we went over to a friends house for dinner. We met these people because of Spenser. Last year he and their son Noah were in the same kindergarten class together, and a friendship soon blossomed between all of us--kids and adults alike.

I so needed to be able to go and have a relaxing night out, and I did. They made dinner for us, which was very god--steak and wild rice with salad and bruschetta.

Before dinner, after we had relayed the latest on the never ending school saga with Spenser, and they got to hear how utterly frustrated and stressed out I was, they made me a pomegranate margarita.

Let's back up a wee tad bit, ok?

Since Thursday was the official opening to the gates hell in this household, I had been so stressed, I could not even bare the thought of eating food. Nothing sounded good. Nothing smelled good. The mere thought of eating, made my stomach flip upside down, and I would literally feel like I would be ill. So starting at about noon on Thursday I did not eat anything substantial. I had some saltines. That was mostly it. Yesterday, same thing. Not hungry. Food looked like the devil incarnate, and the smell of it pretty much made me want to heave. So, of course I had maybe a few crackers throughout the day. That was it.

So, I get made this margarita. It tasted good--once you got used to the whole pomegranate thing. I get about 1/4 into it, and I am feeling wavey. I think, hmmmm, this is odd, and keep drinking. Realize I have never in my life been drunk. I have been tipsy. That is it. I just do not like giving up control. So I drink some more. I get 3/4 of the way through it, and it hits me all at once. I felt like I was a piece of melting butter, on a hot piece of bread. I was flushed, and I am sure I looked like a total goon. Oh yeah, I was giggling non stop. Yep, I got drunk. It freaked me out.

So I quickly grabbed as much bread as I could cram into my mouth and started chowing on it. It took until after I had eaten about 3/4 of a small cow, and a salad and some rice, before I felt confident enough to get up from my chair.

So I have learned that:
a.) I am a quick drunk
b.) I am a really quick and cheap drunk
c.) I really, really, need to eat before I attempt to drink even a thimble full of hard liquor.

I do not drink beer, have never liked the taste. I unfortunately like the hard stuff. Give me a vodka cranberry, or vodka fill in the blank with juice on hand, and I am happy as a clam in sand. Give me a margarita, and I am a happy girl. I do not like bourbon, or rum though, and I highly doubt I like whiskey.

I suppose I have led an incredibly sheltered and "proper" life. It never occurred to me in high school or while I was in college to go out and drink and get drunk. Maybe it is because I was terrified that I would turn into a raging alcoholic, since it runs in the family. And when I say runs in the family, I mean it is as common as brown hair--which nearly everyone started out with.

Tonight we are to go to dinner with another couple of friends. Not sure if I will drink. I probably will. But I will make sure to eat before I do. Although true to form, I am not hungry today, nor do I feel like eating.

God I love stress--when it makes me not hungry--not.