...but man do I love the stuff.
Last night I got to down a few.
Our school had a function... a 25th anniversary shindig. I had lost the flavor of it a while back and really didn't want to go. But I went because my girl OneHalf worked SO HARD to pull thing off, and took everything to heart that as much as I dreaded going, I wasn't going to leave her holding the bag.
What happened was that some of us had a vision of a very upscale function, wanted to charge $100 a person and hit people outside of our immediate school community. White people do it all the time... and black people too. In fact, the music school my son goes to which caters to the exact same community, is hosting an event on Monday and the tickets STARTED at $500.
The principal of the school had a bitchfest. Some of the teachers had a bitchfest. And every one said "$100 bucks is too steep and we'll alienate folks".
My take was... people are going to bitch regardless of what you do, so why not go all out and work hard to bring in folk who WILL pay??? We can always have one of our usual "love-ins" at another time... but why can't we charge people, serve free alcohol, and think of ways to make them part with their money? Didn't anybody watch this years "Celebrity Apprentice"? Apparently not.
So most people caved once the principal had her bitchfest (and mind you, I truly love the woman like family... but like me, she's a control freak), and OneHalf tried everything she could think of and brought the ticket price down to $50. And in my opinion, the SAME people that would have shown up at $100, now showed up at $50.
And I was stressed out because I had volunteered to design and print the programs. And everything that could go wrong went wrong... compounded by the fact that finished them late because they got pushed aside in favor of a paying gif from the hospital. So I had intended to finish the progams early, go into the city, get my hair done, change at Bigbear's, and get to the function early to help set up.
But it didn't happen that way...
But yet and still.... it was a great feel-good event. And even though we had to pay for booze, people boozed. I even coughed up $50 I don't have once I had my Vodka/grapefruit. Well, actually, my second one. On an empty stomach.
Vodka makes everything better. (The problem with vodka is it gives me a terrible let-down.)
Afterwards, the teachers were all in a feel-good mood, and most of them, including the principal and the long-time school secretary (who's retiring this year... and will be truly missed) decided to hang out at a local bar down the street. Me... I was supposed to go home. Shoefly had taken the boys home, and then over to her sister's house because she was going to see "Sex and the City".
But at 11PM, I was working on my second martini (Absolut extra dry/extra olives), and thoroughly enjoying the company of LilacBlue, the Fatlady, Whitehorse and another mom I shall call Miss Priss (who admitted to working a phonesex line in her pre-children days) and the teachers... including the Sun's (I have a huge crush on her. Too bad I don't swing that way.) so when Shoefly called me and said I should just let the Sun stay with her... I did so without a lot of hesitation but a bunch of drunken "sorry"s and then promptly forget I even had a child.
I haven't been that tanked in a while. And I remembered today why I hate being drunk--the day after.
I forced myself up at 8A, took 2 Exedrin and a long hot shower, ate some Fage full-fat yogurt to absorb the poison, and chugged a cup of Bustelo.
Then I went over to Shoefly's and forced my child to go to karate.
I didn't work out; I knew better... jumping around would have caused me to hurl but I did try Tio's dance class afterwards. But while I waited for the karate to be done, BigbrotherSensei helped me nurse my hangover by giving me PowerAde, buying me some sancocho (a Dominican chicken soup) with rice, and a packet of Alka Seltzer. He laughed at me, though.
We danced a little bit. Whatever vodka was left in my system got sweated out, I'll you that much. I think I may have gotten the hang of bachata. I'll have to go out and test it...