How 9 glasses of wine can be the best lesson of all...
As a recovering binge drinker, (Hi, my name is Carey Ma) I think it is a necessary step in the recovery process to admit to wrongdoings. So here are my skeletons, telling a sordid tale of too much to drink while in a tie in lower Manhattan.
It all began innocently enough, TfA asked if I would lead a session for the incoming first year teachers. They asked me to do the session on the whose who and the what's what. Easy enough, I know those things. An old friend, Kim Osagie, and I had these first years eating out of our hands. We were funny, we were real, and we were full of information!
After that we rotated to a common lounge and chilled with other TfAers and chatted them up before moseying to the top floor of the Kimmel Center of NYU (it's a big deal). There, we were told, wining and dining would commence. What... check that... FREE wining and dining would commence.
My cohorts and I did indeed WINE and DINE. Delicious hors devours were served by caterers, and the wine flowed freely. Perhaps a bit too freely. I am fairly certain that 8-10 glasses were consumed by me in a 3 hour period, at least 30-45 minutes were taken up by various speeches (nothing served during that time). I also did not drink the last half hour. This leads me to conclude that in a period of about two hours, I had 9 drinks. Basically, I polished off a bottle of wine by myself.
I wish I could say that is how it ended. I harmlessly found my way home, and went to sleep. Alas, that is not the case. I went onto taking pictures with people and flirting up a storm (with a certain head administrator of a non-profit, other CM, and random people on the streets, more on that later).
After I left that situation, I found myself... at a bar. Nothing happens here, nothing I remember anyhow. I drink some water, and then we left, but not until AFTER I apparently introduce myself to a woman driving away in her car. I help her in, I close the door, then something about telling her she is beautiful. Thank the LORD I wasn't maced.
I think the most important part of all this, is that I didn't remember most of this. I had to be told it by my roommate. Additionally, this is a watered down version of the story. So let that be a lesson to all of you, my faithful readers, drinking a bottle of wine in two hours in lower Manhattan, during a fairly important event, may lead you to forget key actions you chose to take.
Peace our my friends!
It all began innocently enough, TfA asked if I would lead a session for the incoming first year teachers. They asked me to do the session on the whose who and the what's what. Easy enough, I know those things. An old friend, Kim Osagie, and I had these first years eating out of our hands. We were funny, we were real, and we were full of information!
After that we rotated to a common lounge and chilled with other TfAers and chatted them up before moseying to the top floor of the Kimmel Center of NYU (it's a big deal). There, we were told, wining and dining would commence. What... check that... FREE wining and dining would commence.
My cohorts and I did indeed WINE and DINE. Delicious hors devours were served by caterers, and the wine flowed freely. Perhaps a bit too freely. I am fairly certain that 8-10 glasses were consumed by me in a 3 hour period, at least 30-45 minutes were taken up by various speeches (nothing served during that time). I also did not drink the last half hour. This leads me to conclude that in a period of about two hours, I had 9 drinks. Basically, I polished off a bottle of wine by myself.
I wish I could say that is how it ended. I harmlessly found my way home, and went to sleep. Alas, that is not the case. I went onto taking pictures with people and flirting up a storm (with a certain head administrator of a non-profit, other CM, and random people on the streets, more on that later).
After I left that situation, I found myself... at a bar. Nothing happens here, nothing I remember anyhow. I drink some water, and then we left, but not until AFTER I apparently introduce myself to a woman driving away in her car. I help her in, I close the door, then something about telling her she is beautiful. Thank the LORD I wasn't maced.
I think the most important part of all this, is that I didn't remember most of this. I had to be told it by my roommate. Additionally, this is a watered down version of the story. So let that be a lesson to all of you, my faithful readers, drinking a bottle of wine in two hours in lower Manhattan, during a fairly important event, may lead you to forget key actions you chose to take.
Peace our my friends!
posted by Carey at
8/18/2006 01:52:00 AM
1 Comments:
You forgot the part about the McDonalds.....
Good job blogger!
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