Day 18.

I can’t believe it’s Friday already.

My roommate Jimmy is in a fantastic band called Milquetoast & Co. - (http://www.myspace.com/milquetoastco) and they were playing a show at the Midway Cafe in Jamaica Plain.

I was driving and therefore not drinking - especially after the sobering checkpoint experience the night before.

Jess met up with me at my house and we went to pick up Regan (who shall be affectionately referred to from here on as “fluffy” for reasons I won’t go into).

The show was excellent as always, and the plan was for me to go back to Alex’s house for a small shindig he was having where he promised me some of his sangria. His words were “I’d like to see you on the floor crying and telling us that you love us.”

It sounded like a terrible idea, but sometimes you just do what you’re told and so I planned to head there but the traffic, rain, and late show start conspired against me and so I was unable to make the party before they wrapped up. I went home with mixed feelings. Stoked to have seen Milquetoast & Co. play again but sad I missed Alex and friends.

Day 19

Saturday.

I slept in from the late night on Friday and milled around the house a bit. I had a feeling that Saturday was going to be a bit crazy. Tristram had agreed to host a party that night and he always delivers a good party. The bonus was that he had crash space so I knew I could camp out on a couch for a few hours if I drank too much.

Masha and Jess met me at my place and we tried to formulate a plan. We were due in Harvard Square at 10:00 to meet Gary for food before the Rocky Horror Picture Show (http://www.fullbodycast.org).

We decided to do what any adult would do at 7:30PM on a Saturday when they haven’t had dinner - we went for Ice cream sundaes. We picked Friendly’s because, to quote my dad:

“They’re friendly, but they’re not speedy.”

After killing time there Jess announced that she wanted to go to the liquor store to stock up for the party. Masha was excited because she recently turned 21 and had yet to actually set foot inside a liquor store.

I roamed the aisles for a few minutes trying to think of a good gift for our hosts Tristram and Bethany. Hendricks Gin seemed like a good choice - partially for selfish reasons. I actually enjoyed the Gin and Tonic I tasted the week before, so I grabbed some tonic to go with.

We scored excellent parking in Harvard Square which anyone will tell you is a miracle at 10PM on a Saturday night, and we met up with Gary to get food.

Charlie’s Kitchen was beyond packed. College kids were definitely back in town. It was standing room only both upstairs and downstairs. We quickly decided to bail on Charlie’s and instead went to one of my favorite places in the world - Pinocchio’s Pizza.

If you live in Boston or plan to visit Boston you’re doing yourself and your stomach a  major disservice by not grabbing a slice of pizza at Pinocchio’s. I’ll leave it at that.

With a stomach full of pizza I headed off to the show with Gary, Masha, Jess, and Tim, who met us there.

Fast forward a few hours and I find myself in Tristram’s kitchen. Bethany was excited over the gift of Hendricks because it’s apparently her favorite. Alex walks into the kitchen and ceremoniously pops the top on the two containers of Alex’s Special Sangria and promptly pours me a glass.

No one thought to go to the store to get cups for alcohol, so there was a cup shortage. Masha found the last few cups and snuck off with them to write mine and her name on two.

Bethany mixed me a gin and tonic using a nice glass she procured and I found myself with a glass of Alex’s sangria and a gin and tonic.

I was there ten minutes and I was already double fisting.

I drank about an eight of an inch of Alex’s sangria and it hit me like a ton of bricks.

“What the hell is in this?”

Alex rattled off a list of ingredients that I don’t remember and everyone in the room cringed. Not a good sign.

I was determined to finish the sangria - which should be called “Alex Hates Christian” instead of “sangria” - so I was sipping it slowly and chasing it with the much smoother Hendricks gin and tonic.

About halfway through both drinks Tristram appeared and, seeing that I was drinking, announced that he was going to make me a martini. Olives and all.

So now in a party where cups are a rare commodity, the guy who was previously straightedge has three drinks.

My notes from the night, after “holy shit the sangria hit me fast” say simply:

“wooooooooooooooo”

I was planted in the corner of the kitchen where the two counters met at a 90 degree angle, so I just leaned there without danger of falling over or anything.

By this time it’s about 4:30AM and I’ve finished the gin and tonic, the “sangria”, and the martini. I ate the olives. They weren’t bad.

I poured myself another gin and tonic because Alex re-appeared to pour me the last of the “sangria”.

About halfway through both of these drinks I realized that I suddenly couldn’t feel my face.

My head felt very odd. When I looked left, it took a moment for the world to catch up.

I was pretty drunk.

Alex’s “sangria” was about three million percent alcohol by volume, and I finished two of those, two gin and tonics, and a martini.

What the hell was I thinking?

I didn’t feel sick, thank god, but I definitely had equilibrium problems. Everything was fuzzy. I managed to make it to the bathroom and I came downstairs to see my lesbian friend standing there laughing at me. A little voice in my head told me to make out with her. Luckily another little voice politely asked what the fuck the first voice was talking about.

I told her all of this and she just chuckled at me. I guess I understand why people get drunk and have sex now.

After another few minutes I found myself in the downstairs bathroom. I was staring at myself in the wall of mirrors and slowly swaying back and forth. I kept asking myself if I was having fun. Was I having fun? What’s the appeal of this? It’s weird, sure, but it seems like the novelty would wear off after the first time.

I took a photo of myself in on of the bathroom mirrors. I look terrible:

I have no idea why I’m making that face.

My friend Adam was knocking on the door to make sure I was okay. I was apparently staring at myself in the bathroom mirror for 15 minutes. I announced that I was okay and turn to walk towards the door. The bathroom was humid and the floor slightly damp making me stumble on the tiles and fall into the door. Nothing too major - just a basic stumble - but from the other side of the door they probably thought I passed out. I opened the door to Adam and Kristen looking at me asking if I was okay. I waved them off and said I was fine. I just tripped and could walk.

Sure, I didn’t feel great, but I was okay enough to walk. Well weave, more than walk, but I wasn’t going to pass out or throw up. At least that what I figured. I haven’t passed out yet so I probably don’t know the signs.

Kristen fussed over me for a bit and I kept waving her off. I sat down in the kitchen and realized that I was pickled. I needed to start drinking water. My forehead was sweating, but I couldn’t tell if it was from the bathroom being so hot or from drinking.

After a few glasses of water and sitting on the chair, I could actually feel myself getting better. Sort of like when you drive down a highway in the fog and as the fog thins out you start to see better bit by bit. Before you know it, the fog is dissipating and you’re back to normal.

I could “feel” my brain doing that. It was a very bizarre feeling.

I spent a few more hours at the house drinking water and resting. The weirdness went away and then it was just a matter of time before my body had processed the alcohol enough so that I could feel comfortable driving home.

Eventually I was sober enough to drive and the three of us - Masha, Jess and myself - piled into my car and started heading back to my house.

Driving down Memorial Drive on Sunday morning I watched as the joggers got a start to their day. Here I was newly sobered up from drinking and partying all night and just driving home to go to sleep and they had woken up early on a Sunday morning to get their morning jog in. The juxtaposition was interesting. I took a moment to ask myself if I’d rather be the one out partying or the one waking up early to exercise.

I’m not sure I have an answer to that yet.

Day 20

I went to bed at 9AM on Sunday morning and woke up at 1:30PM Sunday afternoon.

I’m lucky enough not to have a hangover, but I do feel very tired from lack of sleep. No headache. I don’t think I drank enough water last night except at the end when I was trying to sober up. I’ll have to keep an eye on that moving forward. I’ve avoided hangovers so far, but it’s probably only a matter of time if I keep doing things like last night.

There were a few people egging me on last night - trying to make me pass out of puke, but I was fortunate enough to have a large number of friends keeping an eye on me and looking out for me. They want my experience to be enjoyable, not completely regrettable.

I know I keep mentioning how much I appreciate my friends but I really can’t stress that enough. Without them this entire thing would probably be a fiasco. While “Local man starts drinking for the first time and dies in four days” might be an interesting headline for the Boston Globe, it’s not quite what I had in mind for my obituary.

I spent Sunday lounging around the house and recovering from the night before. I was in the interesting position of being extremely tired and wanting to sleep, but knowing that doing so would screw up my sleep schedule for the next few days. Monday morning I have to hop on a train and go back to New York so I can’t go to bed now and screw that all up. The solution is to keep things low key and ride out the day until I can crash at an acceptable hour. It might not make for the most productive or interesting day, but I have to try to be responsible sometimes.

Sunday night is our weekly poker game, so I dragged myself to Trent’s and scowled at Alex for trying to kill me with “sangria” the night before.

No drinking, but I feel worn down and tired. I did okay in poker, taking fifth place but not placing high enough to win any money, and I made it home by around 11PM.

I caught a second wind somewhere along the line and I couldn’t sleep when I got home so I threw in a movie and zoned out for a bit.

Monday morning I get on a train and head back to New York for a week. We’ll see how this goes.