Sometimes it helps me to put the embarrassing things down on paper. By saying (typing) them out loud, they lose a little bit of their edge and that cringe of shame I feel when the memories bubble back up seems to release some of its power over me. As Jean over at UnPickled says in a song she wrote/performed: I DID THAT. NOT PROUD BUT THAT WAS ME. I may not be proud BUT some of this shit is sort of fucking funny in hindsight. Funny in a terrifying Uncle-Charlie-is-shirtless-and-covered-in-baby-oil-at-the-family-barbeque sort of way.

  • That one fine Halloween where I got really drunk at home and decided to go out to a party I was invited to when I was in no shape to be going anywhere. I was so lazy about putting together a costume that I just bought a pair of scrubs from the discount store and threw on a wig and fake balloon boobs and rubbed blood all over my face and then went into Manhattan looking wrecked. I was terrified the entire night that one of my boobs would pop. Not because I was concerned about the cohesiveness of my costume but because of how obscenely terrified I am of popping ANYTHING. If people tried to give me a hug or brush up against me, I’d push them away and slur/scream at them to be careful with my tits. HEYBECARFERSOFZMYTIZZZ! When people asked me what I was dressed up as, I told them I was part of NURSES AGAINST OBAMACARE. The next morning, I was told by friends that I had ended the evening by crying for no reason and throwing my entire body into a giant pile of trash bags piled on a street corner in The West Village. I also apparently yelled a lot at the taxi driver for going too slow on the way home. I woke up with my pillow covered in fake blood and makeup. TRICK OR TREAT.
  • The one time I got really drunk at a friend’s house during Superbowl and talked a woman into giving me a very intense massage (totally non-sexual, I should add). She is sort of my superior at work and even though she was drunk, too, there has always been a wonky vibe between us ever since then. When me and the boyfriend left to go home, he had to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid. Much of the ferry and train ride is totally blacked out from my memory. I do remember trying to go into the street and he had to pull me back. And I remember him getting mad and yelling at me which caused me to take off in a sprint down the street as if I were trying to lose him somehow. I just remember thinking RUN! RUN, GIRL, RUN! THIS WILL SHOW HIM HOW MUCH HE ACTUALLY CARES ABOUT YOU! RUNNNNN! It didn’t work and I have no idea what in the world I thought I was doing.
  • The one time where I was drinking with a friend at my apartment. I went to walk her down the stairs when it came time for her to leave and I ate shit (EDIT: “Ate shit” is slang for falling down. I’m adding this edit because someone was really concerned and asked me why I would have eaten shit) and fell down half the flight and landed on my ankle causing my foot to fold sideways underneath me causing instant and blinding pain. She expressed concern but I did that thing where you laugh a lot and say you are fine. I stood there talking with her for about five minutes until she finally left and I burst into tears. I crawled up the staircase on my hands and knees and went back inside the apartment. I drank a lot more, didn’t bother icing it, and woke up the next morning completely unable to walk. I missed a few days of work because I was immobile and had to crawl everywhere. I never went to the doctor to see if there was serious damage and I still get occasional pain from it.
  • The one time I got drunk at a restaurant and convinced my boyfriend to get on a very shady looking carnival ride at the festival happening up the street. It consisted of two pods independent of one another and both on giant hydraulic poles that flipped upside down and flew about 50 feet into the air. The ride made noises like it was tired and depressed and really angry that it had to be doing its job. I screamed bloody murder and my face smashed up against the ceiling of the pod because my seatbelt wasn’t on very tight (I had loosened it once the operator closed the lid of the pod over my head). I pretended it was soooo fun while I was going around and around with my head smashed like a pancake but inside I knew that this was probably how I was going to get dead. I stumbled off the ride and told everyone it was the best thing I’ve ever done in my life. Then I ate a fried Oreo.
  • Threw an elaborate Christmas party for like 30 friends and started drinking well before they arrived. Woke up the next morning in my bed and was told that I disappeared and passed out about 1 hour into the event. Everyone wondered where I had gone. My boyfriend had to tell them I just wasn’t feeling well. And this has happened at least 2 other times that I can remember.
  • Early in my relapse, when drinking was still working okay for me and I wasn’t yet throwing up on people’s faces, I was in heavy training for a half marathon. The night before the race, I carb loaded by eating two orders of Pad Thai and by drinking several bottles of red wine. It seemed like a good idea because I was really nervous about the race and wasn’t sure if I had trained enough/properly since my drinking had started to escalate. I woke up at 4AM totally hungover and feeling miserable. I still went to the race and ran the 13.1 miles in a little over 2 hours. I CAN DO ANYTHING! SEE! DRINKING ISN’T A PROBLEM FOR ME! I STILL DID IT! On the way home, I stopped at a restaurant for brunch and proceeded to drink a Bloody Mary (five) and then got home and passed out. Forgetting to keep hydrating, I woke up later that night unable to move or walk. I somehow got to the liquor store that night and drank until I loosened up and felt like I could run another 1/2 marathon right then and there if I wanted to.

I’m not trying to dwell on the past but as the days continue to roll on by and sobriety gets better and better, flashes of these less than lovely memories keep popping up. I do that thing where I cringe and try to change the subject with myself in my head. DON’T THINK ABOUT THAT! Maybe this little post will do the trick and set these stupid memories free.

Ok. Now. If you care to share, what are some of yours? Hmm??


  1. I got paralytic at a work event and slept with a female work colleague. I’m female. I’m not gay.
    That made for an awkward Monday morning.

    Don’t stop sharing your thoughts, you are amazing! X

  2. Ah the similarities… I didn’t throw my body on a pike of trash but I did jump on a tent that another drunk friend had peed on earlier, and I also had a severe drunken ankle injury,

    I’ve frequently decided it was time to go to the bathroom right here/right now, with out regard for where here is (once I didn’t understand there was a bus of children nearby and my husband had to physically restrain me from dropping trousers and being forever labeled a sex offender).

    I do the take off running thing too, including doing so in the middle of a rain storm in Dublin Ireland.

    I have occasionally broken or thrown things, including a pint glass at my husband that caught him on the elbow, broke, and caused a cut that required 12 stitches.

  3. Broken arm after tequila shots,cracked tooth via using it as a corona bottle opener,drinking half of my son rum bar then screaming wildly at his boyfriend via sykpe then backing into a box feet over my head him to pissed to pull me out due the $500.00 of exotic drums I disclaimed I did not consume.Insisting I get to go out last Halloween with my daughter’s only to realize at 11 pm I’m the only chubby 54 year old drunk pirate,not pretty. And it took me how long to thing something’s not right ,right?

  4. When I was a student nurse I went to a Dr’s mess party and got loaded on tequila. Got stroppy and decided to walk home on my own but fell over, rolled down a slope and fell asleep face first under a portakabin. Was found by two friends who when they tried to get me up I charmingly told them to f**k off – spitting mud all over them. That earned me the nickname ‘mud’ for a good while …. classy huh?

  5. A few years ago I got very drunk at my neighbors 18-year old son’s graduation party. I ended up tripping in the street (I was wearing flip-flops) and falling down and hitting the bridge of my nose on the manhole cover. I should have had stitches, but didn’t. I still have a scar to remind me of that blessed day. Oh. and somewhere in there I was apparently kissing my other female neighbor at the suggestion of her husband. I have no recollection of that. Its really fun now when I see all these people out in their yards. Good times!

    1. Yeah for idiot husbands egging on drunk women to kiss each other’s wives.Now having turn the tables and them blacked out kissing each other would be interesting.Not so fun the next day .

    2. Next time you see her, throw your hand in the air and wave and scream, “HEY, SUZIE! WANNA’ KISS?!” and then laugh hysterically. But replace Suzie with her real name.

      I tease. XO

  6. What is it about drunks and running?! I have a regrettable experience in that vein. “Let’s have a footrace!” seemed like a great idea between myself and a drunken counterpart. Unfortunately, my coordination did not match my bravado, and oops, there goes my feet not keeping up, and my face hits the ground. I now have a scar on my chin and ear to memorialize the misadventure. Lucky me, the skinned cheek healed. But for someone who at the time worked in the hospitality industry, a week or so of a bandaged cheek was no doubt off-putting to many customers.

    I think it’s important to face the mistakes and mishaps that came from drinking. For me, recalling peeing in the corner of a party and being asked to leave, the face ripping incident described above, or any of the other more garden variety vomiting and hangover incidents are crucial counterpoints to any dreamy romanticism that “oh, the drinking wasn’t so bad…” No. It was. And human beings shouldn’t find themselves with a catalog of sordid stories like I have. But having the stories, I’m hoping to at least put them to the good cause of serving as reminders for why I must stay vigilant and stay sober.

    I’ve never left a comment on your blog, but it’s very good. I regularly read it. I’m 54 days sober, and draw inspiration from your blog, as well as others. Keep up your good writing and sober journey!

  7. I had many instances similar to your party. Invite people over, drink getting ready, pass out early, or act completely taken aback that these people were in my house, expecting me to entertain them! Who did they think they were??!!??
    I’m suprised people kept coming over…

    1. hahaaa being taking back that people were in your house, thats hillarious.. “Who are you people?” LOL

  8. broken wrist on a New Year’s Eve…in a cast through July. learned nothing, kept drinking for 15 years.

  9. One fine evening while the hubs was working late I stumbled & fell flaton my ass & cut a huge gap in my hind cheek…couldn’t drive so I had to call him & ask him to take me to the ER…had to have 14 stitches & explain why I’d been drinking so much as to cause this injury!!

  10. the time I got so hammered at Friday night work drinks I rolled into town with friends to get even more shit faced.. so shitfaced I had to get the taxi to stop on the way home so I could stand on the grass verge in between two busy roads and VOMIT, my then boyfriend (now husband) managed to get me back into the taxi and home.. where I rolled out of the taxi and lay down on the driveway, vomited again, told him i was going to sleep there.. I remember thinking very clearly that sleeping in the driveway was a good idea and that I would be fine to sleep there thank you very much….. classy huh?

    1. Sleeping In Driveways sounds like a band name. Classssy, indeed! But look at you now! If that never happened to you, we wouldn’t have the lovely Lotta that we have come to know and love! And all of those people who would have never been helped by your words and wisdom! I’m so sorry you had to go through all that you did but THANK GOD Mrs. D used to get sloppy drunk sometimes because look at the good it did/is doing now! XOXO

  11. oh yes , the hot wince moments . Pre fuelled before party and thought it would be great to drink more wine when i got there as I was already rocking , but alas not for long. My dear diminutive friend was near on crushed to death as she tried to support me from falling off the verandah without success, I smashed my leg on the way down and it still hurts sometimes too.
    Apparently ( not that I would know ) my husband bundled me in the car when he found me in some distress. …crap

  12. My most embarrassing moments involve throwing up in really inappropriate places: a movie theater bathroom, neighbors houses where most people were drinking civily and having to call and apologize the next day, at my husband’s work party where I was trying to make a good impression and one of the worst and most recent: throwing up in my friends fancy sink (those above the counter glass bowls kind) and waking to realize she had cleaned it all up. I can’t imagine a grosser task and don’t know if I could have done that for somebody else without totally getting sick myself. Oooohhh….the glamour! Thanks for reminding us to keep it real, John.

    1. Ms. Twain, I love you. I can’t believe you can find the time to read my blog. That does impress me much. I too have thrown up in sinks and left the mess for someone else to find. And what’s weird is I completely don’t remember the throwing up until someone tells me they found my throw up and then I get sudden flashes of images from the night before and then remember snippets of it happening. What a stupid thing we were doing!

  13. Here are some of my finest moments:

    1. Totaled my car in a parking garage – somehow did not get arrested (?)
    2. Walking around outside of a beach bar with my tube top down around my waist (it was apparently put on Vine by someone I don’t know, but an acquaintance saw the Vine and told me about it..)
    3. Decided to drive from one city to another in FL (about a 2 hour drive, loaded) and crashed into a construction site but kept driving. Got pulled over near a convenience store. The cop told me to get a coffee and a snack and sent me on my merry way. I made it home by the grace of whatever higher power exists.
    4. On my 37th birthday (after partying until 2AM) sat up in bed in the middle of the night and started puking and laughing and clapping my hands like a show monkey (according to my then boyfriend)…until BF threw me in the shower screaming and fighting him (I guess I was having fun puking and laughing in bed).
    5. Same birthday – gave my boyfriend’s very shy best friend a very drunken, retarded strip tease in the middle of a wine bar – to the point where he got so embarrassed that he left.

    Those are the first ones that come to mind, but I could keep going…yikes!

      1. It is kinda funny. I listened to your Bubble Hour podcast this past week Mrs. D! Good stuff!

  14. I missed yesterday. 😦 So I’m reading these for the first time this am. Yep, did the boobs out thing – tube top – never wore one after that incident. I was at a beach bar with two girlfriends, left them to go walking with some total stranger, who pulled the top down while we were kissing. Didn’t even notice…….I made it back ok, the guy wasn’t a complete asshole, at least I think so- don’t remember. I refused to go out the next night because I had no idea who saw me or what the guy that I kissed looked like. God, I’m cringing just writing that one….

    Then I once went out the night before my gram’s 80th birthday and got smammered. Broke out in hives as I sometimes did from alcohol, asked for a big glass of water from the waitress, knocked it all over myself, screamed at her b/c of course she did it, ran out of the bar, cursing and screaming at my group of friends which included my cousin and my husband…….then walked home, fell on a cracked sidewalk and smashed my face.

    The best part, I had to explain the scar and black eye on my face to every single party guest of my gram’s…..classy. AND my gram was so furious. Not to mention my husband who was completely embarrassed by my screaming rampage.

    Urrggh!!! I’m so glad that person is gone.

  15. I decided to walk up the street for a glass of wine and order some food(obviously i was out of wine and didnt want to drive) I ordered some food and had 2 glasses of wine which only added to the 2 1/2 bottles before. I remember walking home but not arriving at my apartment. I woke up with a huge bruise on my leg (looked like someone took a black stick and struck my leg) and a gash in the back of my head and had spots of blood all over my shirt- i have no clue what happened that night.(did i get beat up, fall down the steps, attacked)? needless to say this was a huge wake up call. Somehow i did manage to still eat the food that I ordered take out from the restaurant.

    I am too afraid to go out anymore alone in fear of drinking too much and blacking out and someone killing me. I stay at home and drink alone most of the time. I just want to stop and be happy. These blogs are helping me to think more about quitting – When will i be READY??

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