Thoughts on a slow day:
As you know, I went to my brother wedding about a week ago. I posted a bunch of pictures, mostly of me and family nice and happy and smiling. But I did have one sort-of issue with that weekend.
My issue involves drunk people. See, I don’t really drink (but I did have a beer and a half both nights – whoohoo!) and I don’t really care if other people do. Honestly, I don’t – I know that Cheese thinks I judge people that drink, but I really don’t – I just chose not to do it myself, mostly because I hate the hangover that I will inevitably get. And just like I don’t expect everyone in the world to love triathlon or adhere to my lifestyle, I don’t really do the whole drinking thing. Just like I also don’t eat red meat. No condemnation – just a choice.
So here’s the thing about drunk people. They can be all kinds of fun when they are being silly. Frankly, some of the funniest shit happened around my obliterated friends, who are funny sober, but brutally hysterical when drunk. Like, for example, my friend Bridget that weekend. Hysterical, fun to be around, pretty much just laughed and joked and had a good time.
But then, there are the others:
1. They can’t just stay silly (like the fine young lady that pulled her bridesmaid dress up to her waist, exposed her undies, and rubbed on herself to Def Leopard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me.” Seriously folks, how is that NOT silly?) At some point, they get really serious, and try to have a “meaningful” conversation with you (that they will NEVER remember). And then they get all kids of pseudo-philosophical, and inevitably tell you how wonderful you are of a person and they “can just tell” how good you are inside (which you can bet is soley based on the fact that you are the only person left standing in a room that can actually maintain eye contact with them). And all you want to do is give them a stick of gum and join your sisters on the dance floor to “My Humps.”
I lost about an hour of my life that I will NEVER get back the night of the rehearsal dinner. I won’t go into detail, but apparently because I am a psychologist, I should want to talk to/associate with any other person in the room that has anything to do with the field of psychology, even if they just cut the grass. Here’s a hint – I don’t. Frankly, the last thing I want to do at a bar while socializing with all my friends and family is get caught in a conversation where a stranger who happens to be a “therapist,” while he reads me his dissertation. Chapter by chapter. And not only will he NEVER remember that conversation, but he spent most of telling me how everyone he knows tells him he is such a great therapist because he "can really reach people like no one else can/I just get people, you know?/ People just listen to me.”
(Here’s another hint – if you are really a good therapist, you don’t need to brag about it. Frankly, if you were good at all, you would have spent more time trying to get to know me, instead of flapping your jaws UNBROKEN for an hours, telling me how you can really touch adolescents even though you are 35 “cause I just get ‘em, you know? I mean, I was them once, right?” Yeah, cause that’s all it takes. Good luck with that pal. Oh, and buddy? When I asked you about the dissertation “defense,” I was referring to the one in front of the committee, and not to actually strike up a debate with me.)
2. And the stories that drunk people tell are so FUCKING long. There’s no cutting to the chase with drunk people. They could initially be telling you what they ate for breakfast that morning, but 45 minutes later, they’re still stuck on how they boiled the eggs.
3. They spit all over you. And I have learned that there is no easy way to slyly wipe someone’s roast beef off your party gown.
4. Everything is a good idea to drunk people. Dry humping the dance floor? Alright! Riding on the roofs of SUVS doing donuts in the parking lot? Where do I get on! Spending $300 to by an entire bar of strangers shots? Just gimme the credit card receipt! Needless to say, drunk people lack judgment.
5. One of the reasons bananas are great? Because you never have to actually touch the fruit part – just peel and enjoy. Don’t have to wash it, or your hands. Genius.
Okay, so I threw that last one in there, but seriously, bananas are great.
So that’s what I have on this fine Saturday. At some point, I may get out of bed to go do a swim and short run, but there is no telling when that might happen. For now, I am just enjoying some needed down time in the comfort of my pillows.