You and Tequila make me crazy
I called my brother last Monday to wish him a happy belated birthday. My brother and I talk on the phone about twice a year, once on his birthday and once on mine. Since our b-days are only about six weeks apart, this makes for a long dry spell.
But I recommend calling your siblings more often, if for no other reason than to find out what your parents are saying about you. Mark and I talk to our parents once a week (at different times, of course) and as a result I generally know what he is doing and he has some idea about what I'm doing. But I never know what they choose to tell him about my life.
Apparently, the last time my mom talked to Mark, she told him about the tequila shots I downed a few weeks ago. I told my mom about going dancing, and the fact that I'd done my first shots of tequila ever (and I'm 27 years old). And she thought this information was important enough to relay to my brother.
"Are you worried?" he asked her.
"No, I'm not worried. I just thought that was weird."
"Well, if she starts showing up on Girls Gone Wild, we'll have an intervention."
Well, they don't need to worry about having an intervention. Unless Joe Francis shows up to do Girls Gone Wild: Amish Country.
The fact that my mom even brought this up with my brother is funny and irritating at the same time. I don't need to tell my mom these things, but I thought it was interesting that, 10 years after my classmates were doing shots of tequila on our senior trip cruise, I'm trying it for the first time. This seemed like a very harmless, insignificant piece of information about my life. Apparently not as harmless and insignificant as I thought, since it was deemed important enough to pass off to my brother. She thinks I'm becoming a lush? An alcoholic? Really, nothing could be further from the truth.
Part of the reason I'm just trying tequila for the first time is because of my college experience. My friends and I discussed this last weekend: how weird our college experience was, and how hard it is to explain to people.
We didn't drink. At all. We signed a pledge that said we wouldn't, and while some people broke that pledge, some other people didn't. My friends and I generally didn't. We cooked good food, and had people over for dinner. We did art-y things and went to lectures and concerts. We didn't drink. Until we went overseas during senior year. That's when I started. Wine coolers, baby. In London pubs, I was drinking Bacardi Breezers. When I came back to school second semester, I think I had one whiskey sour in a bar an hour from campus. And I felt like a badass.
No on-campus dancing. Smoking was forbidden, but there was "Smokers' Path," where all the rebels could light up in peace. There were no boys allowed overnight. When we lived in the sex segregated dorms, there were no boys allowed at all, except for designated Open Hours, when RA's would come around and check to make sure that the lights were on and all feet were on the floor.
I feel like I missed some things, but I don't regret going where I went. It was good. I made great friends, I learned a lot, and got to study stuff that I liked. I have good memories.
I'm just catching up now, though. Last week at our family reunion, we were talking about how bad my brother was in high school, and how good I was, and my cousin Tim told my mom "Mel is at her wildest right now."
And that's true. And yet I'm so not wild at all.
In other news:
Congratulations to Tim and Allison on getting engaged! I'm just excited because it means another family wedding, probably next summer. And because I helped pick out the ring. And because Allison is very cool and will be a good addition to the family.
The company golf tournament is a week from tomorrow! And I'm playing in it! Mike and I have definitely improved in our driving (him more than me), but we still have not tried to actually aim at anything. We haven't played nine holes . . . we haven't even played one hole. Today the odds came out; our team is a 150:1 shot. Which is about right, I think.
I get to sleep in tomorrow! For the first time in forever! I'm so excited about this.
But I recommend calling your siblings more often, if for no other reason than to find out what your parents are saying about you. Mark and I talk to our parents once a week (at different times, of course) and as a result I generally know what he is doing and he has some idea about what I'm doing. But I never know what they choose to tell him about my life.
Apparently, the last time my mom talked to Mark, she told him about the tequila shots I downed a few weeks ago. I told my mom about going dancing, and the fact that I'd done my first shots of tequila ever (and I'm 27 years old). And she thought this information was important enough to relay to my brother.
"Are you worried?" he asked her.
"No, I'm not worried. I just thought that was weird."
"Well, if she starts showing up on Girls Gone Wild, we'll have an intervention."
Well, they don't need to worry about having an intervention. Unless Joe Francis shows up to do Girls Gone Wild: Amish Country.
The fact that my mom even brought this up with my brother is funny and irritating at the same time. I don't need to tell my mom these things, but I thought it was interesting that, 10 years after my classmates were doing shots of tequila on our senior trip cruise, I'm trying it for the first time. This seemed like a very harmless, insignificant piece of information about my life. Apparently not as harmless and insignificant as I thought, since it was deemed important enough to pass off to my brother. She thinks I'm becoming a lush? An alcoholic? Really, nothing could be further from the truth.
Part of the reason I'm just trying tequila for the first time is because of my college experience. My friends and I discussed this last weekend: how weird our college experience was, and how hard it is to explain to people.
We didn't drink. At all. We signed a pledge that said we wouldn't, and while some people broke that pledge, some other people didn't. My friends and I generally didn't. We cooked good food, and had people over for dinner. We did art-y things and went to lectures and concerts. We didn't drink. Until we went overseas during senior year. That's when I started. Wine coolers, baby. In London pubs, I was drinking Bacardi Breezers. When I came back to school second semester, I think I had one whiskey sour in a bar an hour from campus. And I felt like a badass.
No on-campus dancing. Smoking was forbidden, but there was "Smokers' Path," where all the rebels could light up in peace. There were no boys allowed overnight. When we lived in the sex segregated dorms, there were no boys allowed at all, except for designated Open Hours, when RA's would come around and check to make sure that the lights were on and all feet were on the floor.
I feel like I missed some things, but I don't regret going where I went. It was good. I made great friends, I learned a lot, and got to study stuff that I liked. I have good memories.
I'm just catching up now, though. Last week at our family reunion, we were talking about how bad my brother was in high school, and how good I was, and my cousin Tim told my mom "Mel is at her wildest right now."
And that's true. And yet I'm so not wild at all.
In other news:
Congratulations to Tim and Allison on getting engaged! I'm just excited because it means another family wedding, probably next summer. And because I helped pick out the ring. And because Allison is very cool and will be a good addition to the family.
The company golf tournament is a week from tomorrow! And I'm playing in it! Mike and I have definitely improved in our driving (him more than me), but we still have not tried to actually aim at anything. We haven't played nine holes . . . we haven't even played one hole. Today the odds came out; our team is a 150:1 shot. Which is about right, I think.
I get to sleep in tomorrow! For the first time in forever! I'm so excited about this.
posted by Melanie at 12:07 AM
