Friday was a terrible day. I mean, work ended well, with a lot of loose minor projects that got done, but the day was full of crap happening that put me in a sour mood. On top of that, the Metro ride back was bad, because I had to stand most of the way, and I had hurt my back earlier in the week. I was so self-involved, I didn't notice someone I knew, a guy named Chris, who made obvious eye gestures at me from the rail trip back from Metro Center to Vienna. I kept thinking he looked familiar, and got distracted in mid-thought by this theory I "mulled around" (never actually believed) that if my life were like, "The Truman Show," today I had met some actors who were recycled bit parts. Sometimes I see people who look real familiar, but never know if they have that "familiar face" or I actually know them. Well, it turns out I knew him, but then got distracted because "crazy drunk girl" was on this ride, mistaking eye contact for permission to ask you about your life. At first, I thought she was mildly retarded, but then she had bloodshot eyes and when she finally stumbled off at her stop, I smelled Peach Schnapps.
When I got off the train, I heard a voice say, "Punkie!!!" It was gypsy_sylvin, who then said her boyfriend Chris saw me on the train. I felt real bad, because Chris' obviously friendly gestures were thwarted because I didn't want to talk to strangers or admit, aloud, that Crazy-drunk-girl was on the train and annoying us all. Chris just assumed I was in a bad mood, and didn't want to speak to anyone, which was very generous of him to say that. The truth was I barely recognized him because I have this face-name memory problem that unless have spent a LOT of time with you, or you look strange enough to be instantly memorable (missing nose, purple hair, wheelchair, etc.), you'll get lost on the confused mass of ganglia that make up my memory core. It was only WHEN I saw gypsy_sylvin with Chris, I remembered who he was.
Again, Chris, I apologize. I am a moron.
So Friday night I futzed around, taking care of my back, which led to Saturday, the party, and even though this was a party for a 15-year old, it ended up being pretty adult. CR was allowed, in moderation, to drink. He didn't care for drinks much, but we got this funnel and tubing... no no, joke. While I was growing up, "European" parents started their kids on wine young, and I have many fandom friends who are responsible drinkers who said they started drinking around 13 or 15 with their parents for special occasions and it led to a healthy respect towards alcohol. Since alcoholism is a big problem on both sides of our families, we knew we had to discourage the "mystique" of drinking before it became an issue of rebellion. Now CR is becoming of age where he has to take personal adult responsibilities, and since we have been open about everything else, we felt it would be hypocritical for him to see adults drink, and then tell him it's bad or something. No, drinking to excess is bad. Drinking that ruins your health, causes mental problems, and hurts those you love is bad. Drinking to be social and taking part of a tradition of alcohol that dates back to when we lived in caves is as real to the human experience as domesticated animals and farming, IMHO. But he only ingested a little Moscatto (imported from Italy via takayla's cousin), tried some Hypnotic (we all agreed it tasted like the inside of a tire), and some sake Brad had brought with him. But that was it.
And when the Heare family left with their kids, CR retired early to his room. That's when the adult drinking started in earnest, along with heated (in a good way) games of crokinole. I went to bed at 12:30, but like most of our parties, the party lasted until 2 or 3.
Sunday I did a lot of laundry, cleaned more dishes, and did a lot of nothing which led to a guilt spiral. My back still hurts, too.