PS10j - Thoughts on Alcohol

There were three "official" drinking nights for the Frosh Leaders - Sunday, Wednesday, and Saturday. They certainly weren't the most fun I've ever had, but I made it through all of them with my sense of well-being sort of intact, so that's a small victory. Here's a sampling of my thoughts, many composed while drunk:

* * *

Things are different now. I can't go around expecting another person like my childhood crushes to pop up out of nowhere - or can I? Right now it just doesn't seem to be the way things work. But since I'm fitting into the flow much better now, I'm happy with this new reality.

Still, though, I miss the female attention that I used to get when I was little. I can cope without it, but when I see people pairing off (which inevitably happens around 11:30 or so but thankfully wears out by 1:45 so that you can end your evening as it began) I always feel kind of sad. At the dome on Wednesday night I cried a couple of times, but I was always able to pull myself together and think about something else after a while, especially the instance when three security guards noticed me sitting on the floor by the fire exit with tears streaming down my face. That stood me up quick.

* * *

I should know better than to let women sucker me into buying drinks for them. But I'm inexperienced with the whole social structure at a bar or club, so I don't know any better. On Saturday night, four of my fellow Frosh Leaders latched onto me in front of the bar. But I was drunk myself, they were cute, one of the four was on each arm, and they were telling me what they wanted louder than I could protest. I really didn't mind though; I thought it was kind of cute, even when one kept telling me that I should demand to be served and not just wait for my turn, and even when another woman kept saying "Signapore Sling" again and again and again even though I kept telling her that, yes, I'm going to purchase that drink for you, and yes, I remember what it is. Now, if this was a pot event instead of an alcohol event, I could understand why they'd all be a little wary of my task-completion abilities. If I was high, I would be like, "What am I doing again? Oh, wait! Buying drinks, right! Would you like one?"

Eventually the drinks come and ZOOM!! off they go back to the dance floor. The bartender smiled. "That'll be $16.75, please." He'd seen it all. Later on I think the girls were sending signals to their friends. "See that guy? He's a pushover, he'll buy you ANYTHING!"

I found my first whereswilly.com bill Saturday night, too. It was fun to go up to the computer lab, register for the site and report the bill. Mine had last been reported in Markham, Ontario, and Sudbury, Ontario before that. Facinating.

I don't have a negative reputation anymore, which is really nice. In fact, among those who know me, I'm sure it's positive.

Truth be told, I don't like alcohol. This will be the last night I'll drink for a while; drinking for Frosh Week is a must, but after this things will die down, thank goodness. Anything I can do drunk or high I can do (better) sober anyway. I mean, I'll drink once in a while, but most of the time it really isn't worth the trouble. I know right now, all I want to do is go home and sleep, but mom won't be down here for another hour...

* * *

And as I type this, Colin is telling me I should go to a Frat party on Robie Street tonight. I don't know. It would probably be better for me not to go to such a thing. Or at least not drink at it. I get too sentimental and sad with alcohol unless I'm with people I know well and we're having fun and going from place to place. I don't even really want to go. I mean, I have the time, but I kind of feel wary about showing up at a Frat party where they're all members and I'm not, and there probably aren't even any women around. And even if there were, most women don't talk to men anyway.

But I'll probably go anyway, just so I won't regret that I didn't later.

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