so when i was talking to b and then later to y and eo, i was reminiscing about the worst drinking experiences i've had. since alcohol has such a deleterious effect on memory, it's not surprising that i forget them all.

the big three:
1. when i was 16, me and b started drinking up a storm. i started off with 4 or 5 shots of 151, chased by zima. really disgusting. then we started plundering the boxed wine. and then we got into b's dad's liquor cabinet, where i made acquaintances with señor cuervo, and god knows what else. by the end of the night, i was rocking on my ass, telling b the names of the women whom i wanted to have sex with. my parents ended up having to come get me, and i was puking for at least two days. i woke up drunk the next day, that's for certain.

2. when i turned 20, people thought it would be good idea to get me shots of 151. after about 4, i leaned up against the wall in a hallway and squatted down, pondering my own thoughts and mumbling to myself for the remainder of the evening. i really don't remember how i got home. i was sick the entire next day, and had problems keeping anything down. i was puking continuously, even water wouldn't stay down. even when i didn't take anything, i was dry heaving. what made me feel better was tossing the frisbee around with er (ok, i can't use the word "tossing" without thinking of something sick, but that is definitely not what i mean.)

3. my last year in college (i was actually of legal drinking age at this point) i crashed a wedding reception with m. i got sloppy drunk, and would've started hitting on the cute 16 year olds sitting with their boyfriends, if not for the fact that i was puking my guts out on the balcony of the venue. m had to pull me out of a puddle of my own vomit, and the only way he could get me to move was by panicking me by telling me the cops were coming. when i got home, i crashed in the middle of the living room floor, face down, and didn't move for 12-16 hours. again, i was sick the entire next day, although i was able to eat by evening time. surprisingly, sushi is actually pretty good and soothing to the alcohol-irritated stomach lining, even with wasabe.

then i recalled other episodes that, while i don't think were as severe as the aforementioned ones, warrant a definite mention:

4. grad school, after 2-3 pitchers of beer on an empty stomach on a cold winter night. face down on the sofa for nearly 24 hours. my roommate, who was also i n the same dire straits, actually had the wherewithal to go to class. each time he would return home, he would find me in the same position. "are you ok?" he would ask. without turning around, i would attempt to reassure him by talking through the seat cushions.

5. after y convinces me that the glass is full of tonic water, and not, as was the case, full of almost entirely gin, i gulp it down. the last i remember was singing the national anthem. while the mind gave up, apparently the body did not, and what i am told is that i offered my rectum generously to the entire party for pilfering. luckily, there were no takers. of course, i woke up on the ground without my pants. panicked, considering that the only other person left in the place was a guy, i later worked it out that i had merely forgotten to pull my pants back up the last time i had gone to take a leak. this one kept me from drinking for a while, though. more from emotional distress than from actually physical damage, though.

6. then of course there was that recent episode which i will speak no more of, which by the end of the night i was leaning up against a tree, puking my brains out.

ah, the wonderful things we do to our body and mind.