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Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson

What I Learned Last Night:

I made the rash decision to drink an entire bottle of red wine on my own. Although to call it a 'decision' is implying some thought was put into it. Let's just say there was wine, and then there wasn't wine, and all the wine was in me.

I will explain why this is worthy of blogging: I don't drink much alcohol. Don't misunderstand me now - I very regularly drink alcohol. Almost most nights, really. Alcohol is heavily involved in my social life and free time, and since most of my time is both social and free, that's a lot of time for alcohol to be involved. Thing is, though, I'm quite the lady light weight. I'll have an average of two pints of beer, and then have to retire from drinking more alcohol on the grounds that I'm already quite drunk and one more pint would literally tip me over the edge. I'll have whiskey at Christmas and funerals, but outside of those two specific occasions, spirits and I have no association. I don't drink spirits of any kind, because they make me vomit in a manner that is decidedly un-ladylike, and then pass out, usually on street corners. I'll have a glass of wine with a meal, but only if directly after the meal I can go have a lie down, because wine goes to my head and makes me immediately sleepy and very unsociable.

But last night, for some reason, the devils took me over and I discovered that I can drink an entire bottle of red wine, all on my lonesome, without any seriously bad side effects. This morning I felt a little unsteady and a bit precious, but this had more to do with the fact that - gasp - I'd been smoking terrible cigarettes again.

(I swear to God, that's the last night that happens. No more cigarettes for Shazzle.)

But the wine, although it had rendered me quite the drunkard by about 2am and made me bore poor D to death about the glory that is He Who Only Reads This Blog To See If He's Mentioned, didn't leave me lying on the bathroom floor begging for a mercy killing, even though that's what I always thought would happen if I ever drank that much wine.

So what I learned last night was that wine, unlike most other alcoholic drinks, doesn't hate me. It's good to know.

This entry was posted on 21 November 2004 at 8:10 pm. 0 comments

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