Monday, August 15, 2005

File Under: Proof That I am Broken

Friday night C and I went to see Frank Calliendo at the Irvine Improv, with a group of pals. A friend of ours had introduced us to this particular comic's talents and we were very excited to see his show.

I ordered a cadillac margarita. When it came to the table, I laughed. I said "What is that? A dixie cup?" and C said "Yeah, the margarita sampler."

The last few times I've had caddy margs, they've come out in pint glasses. Therefore, my simpleton ness decides that this puny drink is but a warm up to being able to have several more of these.

My grand total at the end of the evening was 3 of them. You would have thought the unfamiliar tequila sting I was experiencing would have been a clue that they might be small, but they were freakishly powerful. "Hey, stupid girl...this drink will be knocking you on your ass very soon. Stop with the re-ordering already."

By the time the show was over, I was numb all over. I could hear what people were saying to me, but it was as if I was sitting at the bottom of a well. Everything was moving in slow motion. And all I could do when people looked at me or spoke to me was wave and say "Hi."

I somehow managed to communicate to C that I needed some food in order to try and keep myself from passing out. He went and got me a big pretzel. The weird thing is, I remember being in a funnel cake place with the rest of my friends, telling them "I've never had funnel cake before." Which was true.

And all of this would really be nothing more than another notch on my "stupid action" belt, except that C and I had to get up early on Saturday to take care of wedding things.

I got up and was absolutely determined to face down my hangover. Which worked pretty well...until....

We were registering at a department store, and I started to get a bit wonky about all the choices and how to do it and making it perfect - and then I started to cry. Not because of anything C did, or I did, or anyone did. Not for any real legitimate reason, actually. I even tried to talk it out with C, and everything I said was a complete contradiction of what I had said four seconds before that. I couldn't make my face stop crying or talking in circles.

I am probably the only girl that can cry while she is "shopping", because there's too much to choose from?

By Sunday I was just a puddle of unconsciousness and slept most of the day. I went to bed early and when C tried to come to bed himself, I had a night terror.

This time, I am told, I screamed "THANK YOU!! ... oh hi, sorry" ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

I actually remember the oh hi, sorry part. But not the screaming thank you part.

Who does that? Who? I mean besides me. Who?


The Idiot said...

.....oh you just shoooosh with that jibber jabber

Yes, the night terrors at times cause me to puddle myself, but it's also like having my own "choose your own adventure" horror novel. I never know what I am going to get.

Cardiac arrest or not, that's just good times. I wouldn't have it or you any other way. WEAR IT!

Rev. Brandy said...

You guys are so cute. You'll have to tell me when the wedding is, so I can send a gift. Oh, and where you are registered!

ZooooM said...

My idiot...did you comment before or AFTER you found out I had drunk dialed not just one, but TWO friends on an almost dead cell phone that night?

Aww Rev. That's so sweet of you to say. If you really want our info, send an e-mail to me at mybeez @ gmail dot com. Can we register for a difibulator?