Why I Don't Drink, or, "If You See Something, Say Something"

So I decided to go out last night. Yep, you heard me — to a bar. In Williamsburg. To see this guy I only know from Twitter play a show. With his girlfriend. On a night when I had work AND school the next day.

I have no idea why I thought any of this was a good idea.

(Yes I do: I wanted an excuse to wear my awesome new boots again.)

Anyway, as you may already know, I'm on a few medications. One of these specifically states that one should not drink alcohol while taking it. Another is alternately prescribed for smoking cessation. I smoke "socially," as in, I smoke because I'm socially inept and it gives me something to do when I feel awkward in public. I think you see where this is headed.

A friend from home once said I'm like a cicada — I only come out once every 17 years. This may or may not have to do with the occasional experience of an evening ended slumped over a garbage can on a deserted subway platform moaning, "Oh God, why do I do this to myself?"

At least my boots stayed dry.

Ouch.

The other night I woke up at 4am, violently ill. There is nothing lonelier or more frightening than being sick in the middle of the night, all by yourself.

Fortunately (I guess), this isn't the first time this has happened to me, so I wasn't quite as panicked. This time, I was past the worst of it and back in bed — shaken, but basically ok — within a few hours.

Last time, I called 911.

I thought my appendix was bursting and I was going to die on my bathroom floor and no one would even know for days and then who was going to feed the cat? It turned out to only be either gastritis or a ruptured ovarian cyst (the doctors' certainty on this issue was really reassuring...), and I was out of the emergency room about 8 hours later. I felt like my stay had been interminably long, but a more seasoned Brooklynite friend of mine was impressed with the turnaround time: "They let you go the same day? How? Did you break out of there with the help of a rogue orderly and a weapon made out of tongue depressors?"

Earlier, though, I had spent most of the ambulance ride crying, from both the sudden, severe pain, and out of sheer self-pity for being all alone. Luckily, in a flash of momentary clarity, I had remembered to grab my cell phone on the way out of the apartment — I forgot my health insurance card, but I remembered my phone — and thankfully, my misery was lessened through an abundance of text message exchanges with my concerned family. Even from far away, they always find ways to remind me how much I love them. This missive from my brother being a prime example:

"Ms. Godan, we have your results, and there seems to be a small family of frogs inhabiting your abdominal cavity. Even stranger, the tests show that one of them is the reincarnation of the late Senator Paul Tsongas."

Just what I needed to hear. :)

Two Things No Woman Should Ever Have To Hear From A Medical Professional (Guys, You've Been Warned...)

1. From an ER physician during a manual vaginal exam: "What is that?"
2. From a comically accented Asian sonographer proffering a probe resembling a very large, lubed-up dildo: "I need you to insert this into your own vagina."

Well, thank God she specified my own and not somebody else's, 'cause that might have been embarrassing...

I Am Never Eating Anything, Anywhere, Ever Again

Restaurant Inspection Information: NYC Department Of Health And Mental Hygiene

My local McDonald's has 43 violation points. 43!

I gotta get the hell out of Nogales...

Why I Don't Drink, or, How A Single Alcoholic Beverage Can Manage To Disrupt My Entire Existence

I believe I've mentioned before that I rarely drink, and that this is due to the fact that, for me, there is a very fine line between "happily buzzed" and "miserably vomiting," and that this line is usually crossed somewhere in the vicinity of a mere 2 or 3 alcoholic beverages. Yep, I'm that hard-core.

So last night I was at a bar and ordered my usual Coke to start off. However, as the evening wore on, I decided to attempt to be social and have a real drink. My go-to cocktails are Midori Sour and vodka & cranberry — Midori because it's bright green and tastes like Kool-Aid; vodka & cranberry because if you put in enough of the latter I can almost handle the taste of the alcohol without grimacing after every sip, and cranberry juice is supposed to be healthy or something, right? So this time I order a vodka & cranberry, and along with almost actually enjoying it, it adequately served its purpose of making me feel less awkward and alienated from the cool kids.

Then I went home, passed out with my contacts still in, my makeup still on, and my hair still smelling of cigarettes...

...and woke up late this morning to no hot water in my apartment.

Let me just tell you how smokin' hot and refreshed I look right now.

Don't give in to peer pressure, kids.

America Runs On It All Right

I am convinced that Dunkin' Donuts White Hot Chocolate is made of liquid marshmallows.

And it tastes almost just as good coming back up.