This article has been making the rounds lately. If you are too lazy to click on the link, it essentially says that "people who drink more than 100 drinks a month have some problems." Well, yes. If you are drinking 100 drinks/month, that is three and one-third drinks a day. Wait, that's not so much, if you really think about it. It's like, most of a bottle of wine. Indeed, problems.

Anyhow, the article goes on to say that heavy social drinkers suffer from brain damage, just as much as chronic heavy drinkers do. This does not bode well for me at all, but I guess it's true. Look at the lapses in good judgement that happen whenever I drink.

Take Saturday night, for example. I was all ready to make bulgogi and coconut rice, and to settle in front of the television to watch Miss Congeniality, which I think is a much underrated movie. And there was going to be No Alcohol Involved, as part of my plan to lead a healthier life.

But then, Stephanie called, saying that a table had been reserved for twelve at a local restaurant/club, and that one of the spots was for me. Way to consult me on dinner plans. But how could I say no? And to make things even better, both Stan, who has been in love with me for awhile now (I might have slept with him last year when I was really really drunk. Maybe. Who knows) and Antonio (who is really hot, Portuguese and owner of land in Portugal. And he races cars in his free time, and I really should have taken him up on his offer last year for a home-cooked steak dinner, damn being faithful, bleh) were going to be there, along with a bunch of other guys in the medical school. 3 girls, 9 guys. Great ratios, absolutely great. They were supposed to "watch our backs", in case we got hit on by skeezy locals. But really, shouldn't they have been watching out for us - not in the sense of protecting us, but in the sense that perhaps some of us would eventually consume more alcohol than needed and just let common sense fly.

We ate, we talked, we drank. Boy did we drink.

So now, all I remember is a lot of dancing, some teasing Stan and well, not much else. I think Steph might have ended up getting in a fight with someone's friend, I'm not quite sure. It is really bad of me to use Stan's affection for me for my amusement, but hey, I didn't ask for it, so I might as well have some fun with it. Plus, he's a sweetheart. And he wants me. So you know, get a little alcohol in me, and all bets are off. At least I didn't call when we all finally parted ways at 3AM. I was going to, you know, make sure he got home okay. And all that jazz. But then I thought better. Or rather, fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, thereby letting all "bad" ideas alone.

But I swear, I'm going to give up drinking one of these days. Someday soon. As soon as I take up an Amish lifestyle.