I don't drink much, but holy hell am I a light weight.

To be fair, I am borderline drunk right now, and I plan to have a big glass of water and a sandwich after posting this, but wow. I am dizzy.

Years of negative reinforcement about drinking has led me to believe that the moment you take a sip, the moment you become an alcoholic. Logically, I know this is incorrect. Emotionally, I still hang on, just a little bit.

So here I am, having finished a gin and cranberry juice (maybe two ounces of gin?) and I feel a mix of awful and awesome, and my head is swimming. I can't hold my liquor. I know. Rachel teases me about it, but... it's true.

I think the only reason I seem to have any sense of clarity left is because I'm so paranoid about alcoholism that I am consciously doing double-duty in the thought-department to double check what I say and how I say it. In fact, I sent an email to the pornhub webmasters a few minutes ago to remove a typo on their site. I loves me some good grammar, and I don't know if that's a bad thing. I just can't look away sometimes.

My face is hot, feels swollen, my stomach burns, my shins tingle, every time I turn, there is a delay in my vision. Weird.

But it isn't all about me. I mean, it's my blog, yeah, it's all about me in a roundabout way, but life is not all about me. The way I communicate to the world contains more "should"'s than is necessary, in my opinion. But how else does one communicate, other than sharing the random opinions he/she has and thinly disguising them as news.

I will admit, the above paragraph is where my drunken mind has wandered. I thought briefly about Amanda Knapp and her fatness, and excluded it-- oh wait, here it comes. (this is funny, right?)

Amanda Knapp had a crush on me in middle school and now she is incredibly fat.

That is all.

Good for her.

The fatty. My wife is so much sexier. I love her.

And surprisingly not in a jealous kind of way. I'm not sure why that would be surprising in any way, but I used the word because I thought it would either be funny enough or casually over-used enough to go unnoticed and make the corners of the readers mouth curl up.

My lips are... numb. I had to lick them to think of the word. Wow, this has got to be the drunkest I've been on my own. I should go into a chatroom so I won't be drinking alone.

Is this dangerous behavior? Drinking alone while I work on a computer and type up a blog post that maybe no one will see? I'll show Rachel, cause that's the natural course of things, but as far as drinking alone, will the payoff be worth the possibly self-destructive behavior? My stomach burns.

Jeez, am I getting drunker? I swear, that last paragraph was the hardest to type without incessant misspellings...

So, dear potential readership (I say "potential" as if I plan to not post this. Who am I kidding? I want to be a show-off in my drunkenness!), I must bid you adieu. (That was weird, in a brain pattern way. When I typed "adieu" I knew that the vowels were on my left hand (dvorak keyboard) but I couldn't remember which finger to use, so I tried them all and hit backspace a lot. So, my fine motor skills are shot, it seems, but the lower level processes work well enough, and all of the common typing patterns surface with ease. When I type a word that I am unfamiliar with, I have to think about it, and things like specific keys and fingers disappear... Alcohol is a fascinating drug.) I need to eat something and have some water before this gin kills my stomach lining.

Bye