Drinking and Dreaming

A friend lately asked me to blog about what it was like to be the only sober one in our friends. You see, I gave up alkyhol for lent, so I've been entertained (or not) the last 5 weeks with all my drunk friends while I simply behave myself.

It is odd to see what's not fun anymore. Or what is more fun. I sleep a helluva lot better. My dreams are more relevant, although that's not always a good thing. Especially when you're dreaming about your ex's ex-girlfriend. Sort of an odd thing, that.

What is most fascinating, however, is how people react to you not drinking. Some people don't pay any attention. They invite you out for drinks. And then invite you out for drinks the next night. And again. I'm happy to come have a diet coke at a bar, but DUDE, I'm not drinking.

Then there are the people who try to woo you. This is a familiar thing for me, since I'm not a big drug fan. Whatever. I'm uptight. I'm afraid of getting addicted. I value my mind too much. Whatever. I don't do recreational drugs.

I had a 45-year old friend the other day try to get me to do acid. He could not fathom why someone would not do drugs. "So what's your story?" he asked me. This conversation, I kid you not, deteriorated into "C'mon everybody's doing it." He was really only half kidding.

The other thing I am not doing, now that I'm not drinking, is not sleeping around. The last binge week that led up to Mardi Gras I had three partners in five days, and then there was the minor pregnancy scare. It went like this:

It was the week between Valentine's and Mardi Gras. And Veritas decided that this week would be a good week to be crazy, and drink all the time, and go out until 2:30 and 5:30 in the morning every night. And she had a lot of fun. And she slept with 3 boys in 5 days, and really only felt like a whore when she went to the grocery store on Sunday morning, and bought a 6pack of beer and a 12pack of condoms. The "family pack" we used to call it.

So then, after I didn't-really-have-sex on Monday night (he had a conscience! I was so proud of him) I started spotting, which freaked me out. As we have established, I am incredibly anxious about cycles and hormones and whatnot. So I call my mother for her professional opinion (she's an OB/GYN), and she asks me some questions, and says "yes, well, you are probably ovulating, and there is a relatively common thing called ovulatory bleeding." Pause. "But then there's also implantation bleeding."

Me: Thanks mom!
Mom: You're probably fine. But if you don't start on time next month, take a pregnancy test.
Me: Thanks again mom!
Mom: We'll just call this your Mardi Gras spot.
Me: Maybe that's what I'll dress up as next year. A Mardi Gras spot.

But THAT's not even the funny part. The FUNNY part is that even if I were pregnant (and we're going on the ovulatory bleed theory), I wouldn't know whose baby it was!

HAHAHAHAHAHA.

This is very funny.

Really.


So then I stopped drinking, starting Ash Wednesday. After about a month, I thought I might just be abstinent for Lent as well. Then St. Patrick's Day came around, and I wore a cute green sweater and a short jean skirt and somebody thought I was adorable, and well, y'know. Maybe it's just a holiday thing. Maybe I won't get laid again until Easter.

The thing about St. Pat's Day Lay, however, is the last time we did the deed it was Valentine's Day, and I cried, and that was that, and I told him we could never have sex again. Emotions and whatnot. But something about a kelly green sweater and miniskirt made it somehow seem like casual sex was ok. What is NOT ok is to dream about having sex with your "casual sex" partner in the shower. Dreaming about sex is very frustrating, in my humble opinion.

So it's making me think I will be glad when Lent is over and I can start drinking again, and my dreams just get weird again, and I won't have to dream about having sex with someone I was once in love with and tell myself I'm not anymore, but still sleep with occasionally.