November 18, 2007
Never drinking again (v. 32963.8)
My weekend was spent on the couch, a sofa I bought in Tallahassee in 1998 that has become something of my Archie Bunker chair, hopefully without the sizeable ass imprint. I’d have to get up to confirm this, and given that my fatigue alone allowed Cricket to claw at both arms of this furniture at least twelve times this weekend, movement isn’t likely.

Friday night began with what I remember as a relatively sober happy hour with a wonderful group of local bloggers to whom I will link when my fog clears. At our second bar, I recall ordering a round of shots with the word “slut” in the title, which clearly did as much for my head as it did for the women’s movement. My dear friend and gracious driver then took us to a favorite haunt in NE, which is the turning point at which I stop remembering slices of time and start remembering moments. Snippets. Flashes, maybe. Like that moment when I invited myself behind the bar and started to talk up customers, which we all know is endearing to bartenders the world ‘round and makes them give you that Mentos grin rather than calling the police. Or that silly time during Kim’s pool game when I assisted a striped ball into the closest pocket with my hand, which is shown to make tipsy pool players want to give you a noogie, not beat you upside the head with their bottles of Budweiser. I recall being awake at 3 am when I received a text message. I was dropped off just shy of 9 in the morning. You ache a little too just reading that. I know.

I’m not sure if I mentioned this at any other time, but I have lived my life as an ibuprofen junkie. Cramps? Advil. Strained muscle? Check. Eyebrow-plucking injury? It does the job. When the Great Hives of 2007 rolled into town with the circus, my doc banned my sacred ibuprofen given that it was high on the list of likely culprits. Which left me with Tylenol and deep-fried Twinkies to relieve any and all pain.

So when I found myself this weekend a) resting my cheek against the toilet seat, because just throwing up already would HAVE to relieve the pounding in my head, and b) simultaneous cramps that let me know that God and Oprah continued to bless me without children, and c!) a head cold with pressure that would make the heartiest hurricanes proud, I could do nothing but take Tylenol and wish I had a deep fryer. There was no Advil at this party, which is akin to being locked in a darkened closet with Clay Aiken on repeat. (You should ache a little just reading that last part.)

In two days, I have watched four episodes of House, two of Women’s Murder Club, one each of Dead Zone, Family Guy, American Dad, and the Office, and four football games. I watched one episode of 30 Rock three times, and during the last viewing began hatching my plan to abduct both Ms. Fey and Mr. Baldwin simultaneously for placement in that box under my bed. I have placed a total of two phone calls. I ate Campbell’s tomato soup for breakfast because I didn’t have any other food except cat kibble, and we all know how well that went over the last time. I didn’t brush my teeth until Sunday afternoon.

No reason to check. Yep, still single.


Blogger Anna said...

I am also hooked on the advil...and this post did ache a 'bout I have some Advil for both of us?

Blogger Kim said...

I did beat you over the head with a Bud bottle. That's why your head hurts.


Blogger jessabean said...

Why do I always miss all the fun???

Blogger Ulysses said...

Even before she said it, it was clear that Kim was SOLID.
Why brush your teeth when that tomato soup film keeps it's flavor like that?

Blogger Scarlet Hip said...

Kris, have you not discovered the wonder that is Aleve?

Blogger kris said...

Sadly, I can't take that either. It's any aspirin-based products. Bah!

Blogger Susie said...

I had a very similar weekend so i feel your pain :(

Never drinking friends just laugh whenever I say that now. Oops.

Blogger gorillabuns said...

can i say, i have these weekends with neverending results of ulcers and a dislocated my knee cap. i'm not allowed to go out for awhile.

Blogger Paige Jennifer said...

That doctor of yours is a quack. 'Cause you had those sexy hives when I visited. They made me want to slather you with aloe. Anyway, you had those stripes and you hadn't had Ibuprofen in weeks. Pop the pill and tell him a sassy Philly gal with a killer rack said it was okay.

Blogger JordanBaker said...

Apparently too much ibuprofen can cause kidney failure? Or maybe it's literature failure. Something fails that you wouldn't want to, anyway, which is why I try to vary my painkiller intake.

Midol or Pamprin--you will simply stop caring about the pain, or much of anything else.

Blogger WildbillthePirate said...

You can't mix ANY of the NSAIDS- Non Steroidal Anti-Inflammatory Drugs with Alcohol- very Bad! Take them with or after eating. 2-3 hours before drinking. Mix them up-Don't take the same ones all the time- they all work slightly differently.
As for the Rest, Adopt the SEAL slogan: Pain is your friend- it lets you know you're still alive!

I have no advice on pain meds, but I do suggest you do what I do: carry a small digital camera to record the funny thing that happen.

One time, I found a great photo of three tequila-and-a-lime shooters in my camera the next day.

I had no recollection of who ordered them, who paid for them, or who drank them. Thus, by deductive reasoning I might have been the one who drank them. But, it's a great photo.

Blogger Kris :) said...

ohhh, I feel your pain (literally) on the Advil thing - I've also been told I'm allergic so nothing but Tylenol for me.

And I agree with Bill above, you've got to start taking random pics of these kinds of nights - makes it so much more bearable the next morning when you realize you're lucky you made it home in one piece!

Blogger Heather said...

Good times!

Or maybe those pictures might remind you that those 12 hours of fun were worth the 2 days of absolute misery?

Have a good week.

Blogger M@ said...

Funny. I am on Day 2 of my hangover from Saturday, when I blacked out for six hours in Arlington and DC.

I, too, am never drinking again.

I could have hooked up w/ this blond but what do i do? I steal her cab and laugh maniacally....

Blogger The Hotfessional said...

Oh, I'm so sorry. But the description of your night/morning out was certainly ... um ... hilarious!

Ooops, it probably hurts to laugh, eh?

Oh oh oh. I feel for you, honey! I have had nights like this and usually want to just end it all the next day. Then I have to dry out for awhile.

Not to worry, you'll be as good as gold in a week!

Blogger MKD said...

I hope you know that you let god down.

Blogger kris said...

Oh mkd, how I've missed the sweet nothings you whisper in my comments . . . ;)

Blogger Nettie said...

Jesus! You must be a youngin. I couldn't do that much damage to myself in one evening if I wanted too. It would probably kill me!

Blogger Mia said...

I think I need one of those kind of nights .. and SOON!

Except for the throwin up part. Ew.

Yeah, so can you all stop by my place and pick me up next time ::laughing::

Blogger Lawyer Mama said...

I missed quite a party, I see....

Blogger Gunfighter said...


oh... sorry.


Good thing I bailed when I did... I never would have made it to the soccer tournament, so I could be the responsibel, pillar-of-the-community dad.

Oh, and the shooters you ordered were called red headed sluts!

Good times. Good times.

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hmmm... poached eggs, seasoned with a little oregano, should do the trick.

Blogger Devra said...

Do you remember the conversation we had about sluts versus whores and how this relates to girls bullying other girls in high school?

That's right people. We were philosophical as all get out.

Of course this was prior to anyone puking their poor guts out.

It was fab meeting you!

Sorry to hear you held a Saturday worship service in your bathroom.

Blogger Grampa said...

1. There is no aspirin in Aleve or Advil.

2. Alka Seltzer Cold Plus, as I recall, that really helped me through a lot of hangovers. Heroin worked for awhile, too.

3. This: "which is the turning point at which I stop remembering slices of time and start remembering moments. Snippets. Flashes, maybe."

I was describing this feeling to someone just this evening. Except that I was talking about 1998-2003.

My description: It's almost like watching a movie on a really scratched dvd where it just jumps from scene to scene, each lasting only seconds and months passing in between.

Blogger deeeeeetroit said...

This comment has been removed by the author.

Blogger deeeeeetroit said...

kris, seriously. you are hawt.

i heart cul de sacs and old cats.

Blogger Jorge said...

You had me at "no reason to check".

Seriously, watching House excuses you from any and all transgressions.

I wuv you, Mama.


Blogger deeeeeetroit said...

Texting at 3 a.m. Who does that? What are you 15 and drinking wine coolers with the cute boy from Home Economics. Suck it up butter cup. Rehab is for quitters!

Blogger Kelly said...

I had the same response as Jorge: Mama, I love you!

Those bile-filled hangovers are horrible, yet excellent reminders of why friends are so much fun. Like that scab you had on your knee after trying to defy death at 11 on your bike. It hurt like hell, but boy was it fun!

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